"Time is as fluid as a river. Truth, as fleeting as rain."
Name: Arkos, Sage of Waterfalls
Age: 63
Gender: Male
Appearance: Arkos is a grizzled and grey old man. Though he was tall and fit in his prime, the years have weakened him, and he stands with a subtle hunch. He was never a particularly handsome man, but the years worn on his face lend him an air of dignity and fascination. The silver hair atop his head has been thinning for years, but he still carries great, wild eyebrows, and sports a thick, coarse beard. Though usually hidden by his thin-worn green and golden robes, his body is weathered and scarred, but still straight and strong enough to carry himself with pride at his age. Two of his features are immediately striking above all others: the golden Alchemist's Diadem he wears about his head, and the misty, ethereal quality to his cataract-covered eyes.
Personality: An enigmatic man, full of strange ideas and stranger sayings. Arkos walks through the world as though wandering through a fog, recognizing those he encounters, but always looking through them or beyond them. His understanding of the world is past that which most men can bring themselves to understand, and very few try. To the casual observer he is a crazed and obscene old man, but his words and actions carry far deeper meaning than most realize. He has a distaste for authority, luxury and the many other foolish trappings of civilization, and under no circumstances filters his thoughts or opinions for the betterment of others. Though he often maintains a stoic demeanor, he can sometimes display a harsh, irreverent wit, usually at the expense of the person invoking it.
History: Arkos was born an Age ago, before the fall of Atlantis, and was the son of a lesser nobleman in the polis of Thagaste. A small city on bordering the sea at its Southern shores, near the Ivory Kingdoms of Kush, Thagaste was among the few cities in Atlantis ruled by a committee of noblemen, which Arkos' father was among, rather than a Prince. Such a small territory was below the notice of the malevolent forces that plotted the downfall of Atlantis, and so when the Years of Dusk ened, Thagaste had barely been affected at all, carrying on as it had for centuries.
Arkos' father at first tried to bring his son into the realm of politics, but the boy quickly developed a distaste for it. He saw noblemen and politicians as parasites, assuming power only from the strength and efforts of others. As he son did not take to the trade of governance, Arkos was placed in the apprenticeship of the city's respected Master Alchemist, who educated Arkos in the Divine Craft. Though he studied under the wise alchemist until he was a young man, Arkos had no talent for the craft, and found himself growing impatient and bored when learning rote and theory. Even so, he earned the title of Alchemist from his master after successfully crafting Orichalcum from simple electrum. His studies complete, Arkos found little success in his trade, as he was genuinely mediocre.
Unsatisfied with his life, Arkos gave up alchemy and returned to his father's estate to study philosophy and history as his whims dictated. From travelers and refugees he learned of the dire state of the world, and the collapse of greater Atlantis. Arkos was alarmed at not only the extent of suffering that existed in the world, but at how little his father and other noblemen seemed to care. Arkos protested their inactivity openly, marching in the streets of Thagaste proclaiming his radical opinions and offensive philosophies. Eventually his father could bear the shame Arkos brought him no longer, and petitioned his peers to have his son exiled from Thagaste. The committee concurred, and Arkos had his citizenship revoked. To an Atlantean, there was no greater pride than to be a natural citizen of the greatest empire in the world, and death by grief or suicide was a common reaction to the punishment of exile. Akros was overjoyed. No longer was he tied to the petty, self-obsessed dung heap that was Thagaste, as he now considered himself to be a citizen of the entire world.
Arkos sailed across the sea into Borea, and for years wandered the length and breadth of the land. He learned much from the peoples there, and their struggles. He helped as many as he could, lending his small skill in alchemy where it was beneficent, but in this time became more worldly, learning many practical skills of survival that he had never known as a pampered youth. In a world that had become so savage, it often happened that Arkos needed to defend himself, and so he learned to fight with a staff, though it was really more of a walking stick. He was a man of letters and science, not of swords and warfare, and so he carried no other weapon. He was taught herbalism and woodsmanship, and in learning many herbs and other materials found in the wilds, even his paltry talent for alchemy improved.
After many years of journeying, a fateful encounter befell Arkos. A troupe of bandits fell upon him, seeking to rob him of the little value his few possessions held. Arkos held them off as best he could, but there were too many for him to emerge victorious. As he felt his strength fading, he fled, leaping into a nearby river and swimming downstream. The bandits did not give chase, and Arkos soon discovered why: the river fell off a cliff as a roaring waterfall. The current was too strong by the time he realized, and he was sucked down into the vicious cascade. As he fell, time seemed to slow, and his life flashed before his eyes. There was an awakening in Arkos, then, as he saw a future before him, despite his peril. Arkos was knocked unconscious by the fall, but emerged mostly uninjured at the river's shore some hours later.
From that point on, Arkos saw more than common men; he could see how fate wove and twisted through the world, ever shifting with current of time. He could pull on these subtle threads, seeing where they had been, and where they would go. Past, present and future melded together in his eyes; what was, what had been, and what could be were one and the same. His journeys at once became more and less focused. Rather than wander where his feet took him, he followed fate where it guided him, though it led him to far stranger and more distant lands. In hidden places of power and potential, he learned secrets lost to the ages, and so picked up the rudiments of wizardry. The past gave up its secrets easily to Arkos, and so he learned much in a short time, always developing his skills wherever fate guided him.
Journey: Arkos sees his fate spread out before him, culminating in a blinding dawn past which he sees no future. He journeys toward this mysterious destiny, following the the path of time like a complacent riverman drifting down a stream. Along his way he picks up the small fragments of wisdom, knowledge and power that he finds of value, knowing that they will be of use when the time comes for his destiny to come to fruition.
Ideals: Arkos looks always to the horizon, to the mysterious and unknowable destiny that lies beyond all things. He knows that life and material things are ephemeral at best, and that it is knowledge and the wisdom to use it that will can last through the ages, or stand to alter fate.
Holdings: An ascetic, Arkos carries little as he does not need much to live on. The robes on his back, as well as his Alchemist's Diadem, are the only clothes he owns. He carries a satchel filled with various small trinkets and writings, interesting scrolls and unique herbs and minerals. He carries no weapons, only a gnarled walking stick carved from rowan wood, which may be a crude cudgel at one moment, and a focus for his wizardry the next.
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