Information

Nathen
Legacy Name: Nathen

The Chibi Experiment #7777
Owner: Nrogara

Age: 6 years, 10 months, 1 week

Born: June 21st, 2017

Adopted: 6 years, 8 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: August 5th, 2017

Statistics

• Level: 41
   
• Strength: 97
   
• Defense: 56
   
• Speed: 50
   
• Health: 55
   
• HP: 10/55
   
• Intelligence: 15
   
• Books Read: 13
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Lifeguard

Rakover's Journal:Torion brought his friend Nathen to live with us because something had happened to him. He used to be a renowned builder and architect in Subeta, and designed many of the wealthiest homes in the area. Now, however, he has been reduced to the state of a child. "I've never seen him like this!" Torion told me miserably, motioning to his friend's big, empty eyes and goofy smile. "I have no idea who did this to him, and he doesn't seem to understand me when I ask him!" What was I supposed to do? Tell Torion that he had to leave his demented friend to live in the streets? Torion would leave us for sure, and his brother would follow suite. We need them. So, Nathen had to stay.

I have done nothing but regret that decision ever since. Are the two telenine brothers worth all this chaos? Nathen has been reduced to the state of an infant, and a very destructive one at that. He runs around at maniac speed and gnaws on everything, including living beings, though Zvi assures us that they're only "love bites." She seems to see him as a strange sort of puppy, rather than the cursed individual I know him to be.

Why does everyone keep bringing me victims of magic instead of possessors of magic? Why does this keep happening to me?

Namesake's Records:Nathen grew up in the outskirts of Riverside. His family was not well off, but he attended school and found out that he was very good at math, and especially at mathematical drawings. He pursued a degree in architecture in Centropolis, and upon graduating, he began to work his way up through the ranks of a small construction business, until he became known enough to pick up contract work. Some of his most famous designs were composed and executed as a freelancer working with other freelancers. He became renowned throughout Subeta for his work, and developed a dependable group of partners, as well as hiring employees of his own.

He was never so caught up in business though that he forgot to live. He remained a big part of his community in his local Riverside, where he lives not far from his childhood home. He contributed a lot of time to charity work, and enjoyed spending his free time cheering on school league sports. He attended pot lucks and always brought that super delicious spicy barque chicken dip. He liked to hang out at the pub at night with his friends. Nathen was always a down to earth, humble, funny guy. My brother can't say enough about him. He tells me that Nathen would sing karaoke when he was drunk. "He used to tell this joke, about a llama walking into a bar, and none of us even know what a llama is but is was always so funny! But now he doesn't even remember it when I mention it to him!" Torion has told me mournfully.

Why does Nathen no longer remember his jokes? Because his life has been made into a joke. Some cruel creature has cursed Nathen to become a chaotic minion version of himself. He remembers, and comprehends, nothing. Rakover, our main scholar and magician, has not been able to make any progress on his case. But Zvi thinks she knows a different way to come about this puzzle. She's not trying to find a counter curse to cure him.

She's trying to find the creature that did it.

Rakover's journal:Honestly what is this child.

She has lately been insisting on running around in the swamps around Shadowglen in big ugly boots, a tee shirt, no pants, and a big straw hat. She's "spirit hunting." And boy does she find them. She sneaks around to all the darkest, dankest places - places even Torion won't step foot in - and plays slow, rhythmic melodies on her pipes. I don't know where she got them. Maybe they're magic. But whether they are or not, she keeps coming home adorned in more random, powerful, and sometimes vengeful spirits. She wears them like a constantly moving, whispering, sometimes glaring with bright eyes from misty shrouds... cloak, kind of, thing. No one can get near her anymore, and Torion has to walk several feet behind her when he goes out with her, cowering for fear that one of the spirits is going to lash out irrationally at him. She seems to be very proud of herself, and quite satisfied with her results. Surrounded by mad things and stuffed things. She collects spirits and bean bags.

I repeat, what is this child.

One day, one of them nearly took a wing off me, and I snapped.

"Zvi!" I shouted as they hummed and buzzed about her loudly in irritation at having missed me, "This has got to stop!"

"Don't worry Rak," she told me. (she insists at calling me this. Torion tried it once, and I stared him down) "They'll get tired of me eventually, and go home. Some of them have anyway, they only stay a few days at a time, that's why I have to keep getting more... but Rak, I have to keep them around as long as I can! They're telling me things."

"What kind of things?" I asked irritable.

"Things," she said quietly as she leaned uncomfortably close to me, "About other sorcerers. And magical beings. Anyone who could have cursed Nathen."

"Oh, is this about him then?"

"Well," she said, straightening, "And about me. It always comes back to me, doesn't it?" She laughed with that awful high pitched dragon laugh that is basically her evil laugh. When she's actually amused she laughs like a normal child. The dragon laugh always feels like it's going to burst your eardrums. "It's good for us to know what's out there, Rak," she told me, serious again. "It's good to know who's dangerous, and who might be useful. But if we un-curse Nathen along the way, that would be nice too. He chewed up my bed again this morning."

"Who cares? You never sleep on it anyway. You've got your pile of plushies."

"It's still nice to have around."

"So that means you're going to get another one."

"Well, yeah."

"Even though you never use it."

"Yeah."

"Even though he's going to chew it up again."

"Yes!"

"Why, Zvi? Why bother?"

"Because it's my room, it's supposed to have a bed."

I sighed and gave up.

Honestly, this child.

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