Eryndel Brasswing: Lore of the Restrained Spark
@Eryndel Brasswing
Origin & Early Life
High in the Stormtalon Heights, where sheer obsidian cliffs defy the endless sky and gale winds carve the very stone, the Owlin enclaves of the Sky-Weaver Clans thrive. These cliffside aeries—nests of woven rope, brass fittings, and storm-hardened timber—hang precariously over bottomless chasms. Eryndel Brasswing was born here, the smallest of his clutch, his ash-gray feathers subtly banded with bronze along the wings. His muted amber eyes scanned the world with quiet intensity, already drawn to how things held together rather than how they soared. In this realm where a single loose bolt could mean death, Eryndel learned early that precision was survival. He preened his feathers for aerodynamics, sharpened tools against whetstone winds, and watched the clan's sky-weavers craft unbreakable bridges against the storm.
Apprenticeship & Philosophy
While his clan valued flight and agility, Eryndel sought deeper understanding. He apprenticed under Master Harlan Gearwright, a reclusive human engineer exiled to the Heights after a catastrophic bridge collapse that claimed his family. Harlan taught Eryndel the sacred axiom: “Magic, like machinery, obeys only if properly constrained.” In a wind-battered workshop perched on a thunderhead ledge, Eryndel learned to bind arcane theory to brass and leather—infusing stabilizers into wing-harnesses, hextech dampeners into storm-lanterns, self-repairing joints into aetheric frames. His designs were never flashy; they were built to endure, to fail safely, to serve stability above all. “Invention is not the thrill of fracture,” Harlan would rasp, “but the quiet art of holding things together.”
Eryndel's lean, long-limbed frame grew adept at fine manipulation, his plumage kept meticulously practical. Faint scorch-stains marked his wings from test-flights, and brass-framed lenses became his constant companion, always perched at his neck for close inspection.
The Forgebreak Incident
The turning point came during the Great Gale Conclave, when clans gathered to unveil prototypes for a grand aerial trade route. Eryndel's design—aetheric liftstones harnessed to lift entire caravans—promised to revolutionize sky travel. But a rival clan's sabotaged crystal overloaded the system, shattering the demonstration platform. Eryndel acted instantly, jury-rigging a containment field that saved dozens of lives. Yet the disaster exposed his mentor’s hidden flaw: Harlan’s failing health had led to overlooked tolerances. Harlan perished in the aftermath, his final words to Eryndel: “Test your work in the wild, lad. Failure forges truth.”
Current Path
Freed from the sheltered heights, Eryndel departed with his reinforced artificer’s coat, tool loops bristling with components, and wings scarred but steady. He now arrives at the Aetheric Core Tower, a spiraling marvel of arcane engineering that pierces the clouds, where liftstones ferry scholars and artifacts between realms. Here, he seeks to test his designs against real-world chaos.
Personality & Inner Conflict
Eryndel is calm, deliberate, and quietly idealistic. He embodies chaotic good through disciplined innovation: intelligence carries responsibility, and craft must uplift without hubris. Patient with machines, he is less tolerant of those who cut corners or ignore consequences. His confidence stems from competence, not flair. Chaos born of negligence irks him, yet he embraces calculated risk. Deep down, Harlan’s death fuels a quiet doubt—can perfection truly endure the world’s entropy?
Mannerisms & Traits
Speaks precisely, often pausing mid-sentence to correct wording.
Cleans tools immediately after use.
Taps a talon lightly when calculating probabilities.
Adjusts his brass-framed lenses with a precise tilt.
Quest: The Aetheric Core Malfunction
Eryndel Brasswing, newly arrived at the Aetheric Core Tower, is summoned by the tower overseer to investigate and repair a dangerous malfunction in the central liftstone. The core destabilizes, spawning arcane hazards and awakening a rogue automaton guardian. Eryndel must navigate flux-rifts, scavenge rare components, and recalibrate the core—proving his designs against real catastrophe.
In the tower's humming heart, Eryndel Brasswing perches ready—talons on wrench, wings braced. He crafts not for glory, but to bind the world's fractures, one restrained spark at a time. The skies await his proof.