Return of the Righteous Moon
Multiple Personality Disorder Shaman
Sini seer (age 10)
All my life I had known things. I was told about amazing events, that I should not have known, by voices that talked to me in my dreams. Imaginary friends are excepted until you are about four then everyone starts avoiding you. I had no one to talk to so I listened to the voices that did talk to me more then ever. At six the High Seer of Ashka was the first person who listened to me without fear. I found out she could hear them too and followed her to the temple, my family and friends could not have been more happy. I was told the voices were the spirits and gods all around me. The Seer gave me a purpose and made my imaginary friends real. As I learned and grew more powerful my role in the village changed. People came to me for advice and paid attention when I spoke. I will admit I abused that power on those who had scorned me, but only once…maybe twice. I grew up learning all I could so that I could be deemed worthy by Ashka and become a Seer of the Goddess myself. Each of us is sent into the Temple of Many faces at age 11 to meet our goddess, I turn 11 tomorrow.
That night a new voice gave me a choice: If I was willing to fall into the moons darkness I would be ripped apart and yet earn power beyond imagining, or I could stay in the light and have a quite yet predictable life.
When I was painted in every color of paint the village could make and dressed in new furs to walk the path alone. I had heard everyone sees something different when they meet Ashka. I wondered down a long cave of paintings, each a telling the life story of a seer blessed by the goddess. They alternated: first a life of good, then a life of evil, each more powerful then the. About halfway down the hall I was drawn to woman looking over a field bodies tortured in ways I could not have even imagined. Then painted Seer turned a placed a hand on the wall she was painted on like it was glass between us inviting me to say hello. She was me, older and just the one hand was dripping with blood. I ran, fleeing to my goddess. I didn’t want to know the greater sins of my past lives even if they became more holy as well. The Goddess of Many Faces was waiting for me with open arms. Safe in her embrace she whispered a choice in my ear: give myself to her for her blessing or be ignored for the rest of my life. I let her consume me in darkness.
Chameleon (age 25)
We became Chameleon a shadow of Ashka’s many personalities. Contemplation had us study the occult for hours in order to better analyze our dreams. Joy took pleasure in socializing. Mercy sought to help our village though healing and the guidance of the bones. Sorrow strove to fill the void we were missing by inviting other spirits to occupy our conscious, while Wrath learned to force any malicious spirits back out of ourselfs when necessary. Yet there was always something missing…
Our life continued this way for many years until our Goddess began to act strangely. The animals began avoiding Ashka’s Temple. The local gods and spirits were becoming agitated. Then the Chief’s youngest daughter was propelled to go to the temple at only 5, and she did not return. The bones told us we had to bring the skilled villagers and leaders together because to disinfect our home.
This time the temple was covered in Ashka’s many masks, meant to hid us from the growing danger of each room. Unfortunately the masks did not hid us from the raiders waiting to ambush our Goddess thrown room. So we opened our soul to the Temple and He dispatched them easily. He was not Ashka. He was an Earth god who had been cast out of his own mesa by a daemonic fey. Ashka had been manipulating and feeding off our people for generations. We watched helpless as our Companions and the Earth Temple kill the very Goddess our existence was based on. As the daemon died the piece of sanity we had lost returned and we became one once more.