Seona Echosong
"I have watched worlds die and the fabric of creation itself unwind due to the folly of others while I watched helplessly. I refuse to be helpless again."
Summary
Born on another world, in another reality. Seona is a Tibbit with the memories of worlds lost on her shoulders. Her true name she keeps a secret from all but those closest to her, choosing instead to give people her chosen name: Seona Echosong. Even this is not the full name she has granted herself, for in true Tibbit fashion, her name is a reflection of the journeys she has undergone, an ever-evolving chronicle of deeds won and mountains conquered. And so it is that the chronicle of Seona Echosong begins it's latest chapter. Arriving at Chronus.
Appearance
Seona was once a comely tibbit. Her humanoid appearance was as a short woman with brown hair, a lock of silver in her bangs. Green eyes would peer with a smug intelligence from under those bangs, and forever seemed to hold a secret. A joke at the expense of the world that would never be told. She maintained this appearance a long time, until it no longer held the strength she needed to overcome the challenges she faced.
Seona underwent an extremely traumatic surgery, replacing many of her organs with synthetic replacements, turning herself into an amalgamation of biotech that, while still resembling her former self, would be almost unrecognizable to anyone that knew her before. Even now she gradually replaces more and more of herself, upgrading and replacing parts to increase her own strength for the battles ahead.
Empyreal Raven Solutions
Seona was the CEO of a company she has dubbed "Empyreal Raven Solutions" or ERS. A defense contracting agency, Seona used her charm and knowledge of defensive technologies with a dual purpose. To become known to the elites of this new world she found herself on, and to gather information about the most powerful beings of this world. This plan attracted the attention of certain beings. For better or for worse...
The Aetveran Oversight, Regulation, and Security Agency
Seona has served as the Director of OSRA for roughly 13 years now. In her time with the Agency, she has become a technopath, harnessing the magic of the plane she lives on to speak with the machines she has entrusted her life to, and give them a life of their own, and using them to monitor almost half the known world. In combination with her agents, it is safe to assume that if OSRA wishes to know something, they knew it yesterday.
As Director, her relationship with the monarch of the country is an interesting one. As individuals she speaks to Thale almost casually, berating him for mistakes, congratulating success, and unafraid to speak her mind. With company and in public scenarios however; she upholds the dignity of his office with a loyalty that might put others to shame, reaffirming his position as King and demanding that others grant him the same respect.
Project Valkyrie
In recent months, a new brand of heroes have been seen swooping in on wings of steel within Aetveris, often striking at threats that nearby civilians didn't know existed yet before vanishing into the night without a word. These 'Steel Angels' are theorized to have something to do with the nation's resident intelligence director and technopath, but none can say for certain. However, these strikes have saved dozens of lives already, and whatever the source is, people are grateful their town is saved from potential tragedy.
History
Seona arrived on Chronus sometime after the events of the Horseman War. Much of her time she spent wandering the land, traveling from city to city and spending a few month in each, learning names, powers that be, and forces that acted on the land. Fortified with this knowledge, she began to gather employees and started Empyreal Raven Solutions. ERShad only one major contract, security for the Chronus World Faire. While none could have forseen the chaos that was to follow, the fallout from that event didn't have time to make an impact, as Seona was almost immediately brought on as the Director of Intelligence in the newly formed nation of Aetveris.
As Director, Seona's first act was to form OSRA: The Aetveran Oversight, Regulation, and Security Agency, an organization made from the bones of ERS and tasked with two things: containment of immensely powerful and immortal creatures that would threaten the nation, and gathering intelligence. One of these tasks has proved significantly easier than the other.
Seona's Journal (The Story before Babel)
A tattered and partially burnt journal, written in various languages, sometimes Abyssal, sometimes Celestial, sometimes Draconic, and other languages besides. There seems to be no consistency, the author switching between languages mid-sentence. The handwriting is scrawled hastily, always as though written in a rush. Opening it to the first page it reads:
Day 1: I appropriated this journal as it seemed appropriate to catalogue any of my findings. I have been brought on as an assistant to a sorcerer. With luck, I will gain more knowledge than I give.
Day 6: My name is Seona......well, that's the name he may know. My own is close to my heart. I write this...I don't know why. In hopes that maybe someone else will find it? Perhaps in some distant future? Or perhaps I write to retain my own sanity. Regardless, I write, and will write whenever I can. Which given the way he was going on....I'm not sure that will be often. But I will try.
Day 10: As I suspected, he's been keeping me busy. It seems he recruited me for my ability to fluently speak the language of the planes. Or at least, some of them. For being a sorcerer he is remarkably inept......with luck he will never read this. I suppose I should relate who he is. I do not know his name. He seems to think I could use it against him. Bring my "magics" to bear against him. Ha! I don't rely on magic. There are other ways to use one's brain than simply twisting the laws of the universe. And I find that said universe is much less likely to explode in your face when its laws are followed. But he fears me nonetheless even while he seeks my help. I shall dub him "Bob" until I know his name.
Day 15: He is getting far bolder, summoning things at the limit of his natural ability. What does he hope to do? He has me speak with things that blither unintelligently....or perhaps merely beyond mortal comprehension. But he is not satisfied if I say as much. My skin bears the marks of his displeasure, but how is it my fault if he does not wish to hear the truth?
Day 17: Yesterday's punishment....was harsh. I lost consciousness....I don't know how long.....everything hurts....My skin feels as though it will peel away from my bones.... I feel it is time to make an exit, being his familiar no longer has any benefits.
Day 23: He caught me....I can no longer transform.....I know not what he did to me.....everything hurts.
Day 25: –illegible–
Day 42: It has been long.....I cannot transform. He limits me....I know not how. I still hurt.
Day 50: I still translate. Now from a cage. The thing yesterday was horrible, gibbering madly. I don’t know what it wanted. He beat me again.
Day 57: Oh gods, oh gods what was that? Why would he summon that? It was awful, the teeth.....the claws.....the...oh gods why? Why?
Day 58: He is mad...He is mad.....He intends to summon –Illegible– but what would he gain? If I escape it will be during the ritual....I've never prayed before, but I pray that I survive. Though given the circumstances....maybe I don't....
Day 59: B̸͓̞̚e̸̬͕̱͊̈́͋ẇ̴̘ȃ̵̠̤̌r̸̛̘̙͒́e̸͍̙͠.̷̪̙̾ ̵̺̱̋̌͑B̸̲̖̟͒̊̚e̵̖̔͐̾w̵͓͊ͅă̴̻̥̗̈r̴̝̤̂̾̄e̴̡̓̉̑.̵͈͛͊ ̸̳̪̥̅̂B̶̧̖͌ẽ̶͖̘̈̈́w̷̡͍̐͝͝ä̴̢͖̺͋ȑ̶̲͂́e̷̖͔͆͐̊ ̵̲̘̈́́̆T̵̯̲̈́͊ḧ̸̞é̷̈ͅ ̶̠̗͆́͛Ŝ̸̞̙e̷̥͂r̸͇̲̀̆͜ę̴̌n̸̮͇̓͒a̷͓͂͛̚ͅď̵̥͍e̵̞͈̦̊̌ ̴̟̹̍ȯ̵̻̬̝f̴̢͓̃̐ ̶̰͈̊̉Ŏ̷͙̲b̶̮̘̈l̶͖̒i̷͖͈̿v̶͉͎̉͘ï̴͎̑̀ŏ̸̪n̴̝̩̋͠.̸̨͕̣̉͝
The First Awakening
Who am I? Seona? Or the name that rings in my head? How long have I traveled? I remember darkness......chaos.....everything being as it seemed and then no longer being so.....I used his wand… his wand.......but something happened.......what? The portal.....the portal was wrong......more darkness.....It was there.....now I'm here. I don't know where that is....It will come.....we cannot hope to win. Only I know the threat. Send It back where It belongs. I have purpose......what am I saying?........Who am I?
—-------------
I have met a man named Quill. The smell of death clings to him like maggots to a rotting corpse. For all that he is kind. He has offered me a place in his home. I rejected his offer. My work must continue, and no one can be trusted. Still, I appreciate the gesture.
—-------------
Quill’s kindness continues. He brought me a meal the other day and we discussed the Starstrider. He had some bright ideas on how to improve the inner mechanisms, and after examining the theory behind his suggestions, found them sound and implemented them. Perhaps I could grow to like this man.
—-------------
The memories were too much, for a week I have found myself breaking down in the midst of working, and finally I found myself unable to continue. My memories are fragmented, but I still remember many who I have lost. Family and friends that, if they are not dead, are certainly lost to me forever. Quill found me in this state and his comfort made me open up and tell him everything. I am weak. I woke up in an unfamiliar room, a guest room in his house as it turns out. I may have to kill him.
—-------------
As it turns out, he is tremendously hard to kill. Lich. Annoying. But once my energy was expended he told me the truth of the matter. He brought me here to keep me out of the cold. ….I think I owe him for trying to kill him now.
—-------------
I heard tell of an Outer Entity and the glacial flats…I hurried to confront it but only found madness…were it not for Quill and his consort I may have stayed their for eternity. It…was horrifying. It twisted my mind against itself, despite my preparations. It shrugged off my carefully prepared concoctions like water balloons, and when I sought to escape, my magic itself betrayed me, catching me in an endless loop which I am told only the total suppression of magic in the area was able to undo. The forces against me are as the tide or a great storm. I scream in defiance, but can I actually fight them in any reasonable manner?
I took refuge in Quill’s bed tonight.
—-------------
Great forces are at work. I suspect my quarry, but Quill claims it is a war amongst the gods. I have my suspicions, however.
—-------------
I cannot continue to fight as I am. I am too weak, and the demands of combat are too great. I risk death with every fight I'm in. Quill is against it, but it is necessary. I will begin the process of augmenting myself with cybernetic implants.
I never much cared about my appearance anyways.
—-------------
Pharasma is dead… I only faintly know the prophecies but this cannot be a good thing. Another rose to take her place, but I do not trust them to act as a true replacement. From what I recall, no one can truly replace her.
—-------------
The world fragments. My mind flashes back to before. It couldn’t be happening. Not again. I hear the singing…
—-------------
He’s gone…
—-------------
I cannot spend long mourning. Cannot suffer a repeat of the first time. Is this being hunting me? Looking to finish what it started at home? I find myself in another strange land. The weapons and metals I thought I was familiar with burn my hands. I’ve been warned by locals that I must stay on the run in order to survive. I will do as I must. I will not give it what it wants. I will fight.
—-------------
It took so little time this time. I am so new to this world I don’t know what exactly caused it. There was a great fireball, and then another, and another. Shockwaves of force shattered the land and cut down anyone that wasn’t hiding underground. Through the clouds I swear I saw a glimpse of him…but he didn’t look at me. He was looking at the still unharmed city which had rained destruction on us all. I heard the song…and the world fell apart.
—-------------
I barely had time to gather my wits. I write this from another world, because I didn’t have time to take stock of the first I landed on. I found myself on an advanced world unlike any other I had seen. Datapads in a surprisingly familiar language opened themselves to me at public facilities which I believe to have been libraries. I busied myself in research, and no sooner had I begun to learn of great troubles which plagued this world than it began to dissolve. I don’t know how long I spun in limbo. It felt longer than usual. The song haunted me, but I had time to think and began noticing a pattern. I do not think the song is after me. It is a great force, but a storm doesn’t seek to harm the houses it crosses paths with. Nor does the rain seek to flood cities. They do merely as a consequence.
I’ve landed on another world, and coincidentally reached the end of this diary. I will continue to keep records when I find a suitable medium. This journal will be a record of my journey here. I will not give Oblivion cause to visit this world. I will not need to write in this journal again.