Chain 072: Dark Sun

Chain 072: Dark Sun
Location: Free Choice
Age: 28
Identity: Human, Outcast (Drop-In)
Drawbacks: [+100] Ravenloft

[Free]      Wild Talent
[Free]      Desert Survivalist
[300/1100]  Safe Passage
[900/1100]  The Way
[1100/1100] Comrades: Demona, Cult

"Dorothy, I don't think we're in Egypt anymore."
>"My Lord!"
"What in the world are you guys doing here?"
>"We have been waiting for you!"
"Oh no. Let me guess, you've lived entire other lives up until my arrival, haven't you?"
>"Yes. As nobles in the various cities, or their retainers, and so forth."
"A thousand of you."
>"...many, many retainers."
"You know what, forget it. What sort of world is this?"
>"Desert, magic-wielders damage the land and turn it to ash."
"Huh. Feels like... weak and uncolored mana, so it's definitely wasteland. Though it looks like the Path of Life is working..."
>"My Lord... you must not let others know about this! They would kill to control such power!"
"They're welcome to try."

Dark Sun. Not a happy place. Expanding my repertoire with psionics was a welcome thing, but when the rumors of wastelands being brought back to life began to spread, I found myself running afoul of a great many individuals. The cult that worshipped me served to empower me, of course; during my time in the last world, I'd used my abilities to miniaturize mantra transmitters, and scattering various things around meant that any time there was violence within a mile of the knickknacks, I'd get energy from it.

This was especially relevant when the local powers on Athas sent their men to retrieve me, before they came for me themselves. A couple of the Sorcerer-Monarchs that ruled the city-states came for me, and while they expected I would have some sort of power to repel them, the dragons did not expect to face a being who stood twenty stories tall, with a sword made of sunlight and foreign magics at my disposal.

Turns out that making an example of the top dogs tends to keep the rest from coming for you, especially when you spend the majority of your time afterward trying to fix the environment that's been screwed up. Though I imagine making diplomatic contact and asking them to leave you alone until you leave the plane didn't hurt either; it's just that a few of them didn't listen, or thought they could ensnare me somehow.

Huh. Actually, these guys were practically gods themselves. Maybe there IS something to this whole 'being worshipped' thing.