Wyan Moonstalker
Look, one hand!
A Star Frontiers Background
The one armed psi-caster of the Frontier was never at rest. His past haunted him and was never a pleasant memory. He knew all his life he was different. When he was young, he would commonly run off to an old abandoned starport near his home on Mordrad’s World. It was a place of peace and tranquility for the young Moonstalker. Nobody came to Mordrad’s World anymore. His world was lost, abandoned by the human colonists of the Frontier. Long forgotten.
Sitting in the ruined control tower of the starport, he would stare into the wind for hours – Dreaming but not asleep. His visions were filled with horrid things – severed arms, a bright flaming sword, a cut stone and a shattered red crystal. Each vision caused him more and more pain, but it never woke him from his trance.
Words would come to his mind during these trances.
Storm Wind
Death Raider
Spell Caster
Destruction of Time
HIs left arm went numb every time he had these visions.
Once, he asked his father what they meant but all the wise old man could do was smile with a tear in his eye. It was a smile that seemed to know what his child was in for. Why did you not tell me, father! He then performed the magic trick that he always did, producing the illusion of red fire in his hand and tossing it from his left hand to his right.
One quiet day at the abandoned space port, Moonstalker was awakened from his trance by a sudden change in the wind. Something stirred deep inside him. He opened his eye to see a star fighter landing on the far edge of the ruin. It was smoking and battle damaged. The stirring inside young Moonstalker made him nauseous. He felt faint.
He climbed down to the ground floor of the control tower, and sprinted through the tall spine-grass that shot up from the ruined tarmac and hide behind some shag-bushes near the fighter. His dad could probably tell him what kind it was but his eyes were not on the fighter. A white armored figure had emerged from the ship and crawled to a tree nearby. He was examining his left arm and leg. Blood and charring stained his white armor. There was also a bloody black patch on the helmet.
The pilot gingerly removed the its’ helmet to reveal a half human face with severe burns on the other half. However, the other half did not appear to be human – more lizard like. To a young Moonstalker, it looked demonic. After wincing in pain, it … or she opened her eyes to stare directly at the hidden boy.
In a hissing voice … “I can smell you, boy! Smells like a Moonstalker. I came here for you. And your father. Seems your father knew we’d be looking for you… damn orbital defence grid was an unpleasant surprise.”
Moonstalker always hated his homeworld. It was always boring. Living on a farm, no connection to any other planets or people other than the few in his small town. But many talked about the days when people travelled to Mordrad’s World and the Federation had a garrison here during the wars. Now, it was nothing but farms and livestock. Maybe isolation was what father wanted.
The lizard-demon face shifted back to that of a human female’s face to match the other side, aside from the wounds that were still there. Shapeshifter? Then it … she raised her hand in his direction, which began to glow.
That stirring in his gut was escutiating but it seemed to urge him to move. With agility and strength even he did not know he had young Moonstalker leaped away from the shag-bushed just before the disintegrated into ash from some kind of burts that leaped out of the white armored figures hand.
Another blast came from afar, as he saw a figure leap from a vehicle that just arrived. The blast heavily damaged the fighter, which burst into flames shortly after. The explosion threw the demon-lizard lady further away from the starport and out of Wyan’s site. The figure that arrived in the vehicle – wait, that’s dad’s rover – ran after the demon-lizard. Wyan Moonstalker lost site of both and passed out.
Wayan awake in the back of his father’s rover and his father looking over at him. He smiled.
“My son. How are you? I am sorry you had to see that. It was quite horrid, I know.” For a long moments, young Moonstalker stared deeply into his father’s eyes. He felt his soul open and his fatigue and pain lift away.
“It is time to stop the small tricks and tell you the truth. The thing you saw was a Deathraider from the Sirias system. A shapeshifter and a hunter. ” The name shook Wyan to his soul. “She is a Knight of the Dishonored, a strong order of dark warriors during the Wars. You are too young to remember those but they were what brought us here …
“My father passed down something I need you to remember…” He felt his father’s mind reach into his soul again as if to implant these words into his brain.
Young power surges in your veins.
Follow what your Inner Strength ordains.
Time and Balance will conflict.
The grip of the Dishonored will constrict
Beware ye, caster of the Inner Light.
A figure in white armor will declare
The Deathraider’s return to reign
Young caster’s resistance is in vain.
“Son you have inherited a terrible legacy and I have tried to protect you from it. The Deathraiders are threatened by all Moonstalkers. Your uncle was killed by that very Deathraider.”
The boy had only a few memories of his uncle. Many were grand war stories on worlds Wyan never thought he would see. Wyan was told that his uncle died in a grand battle – something called the Dryard Conflict.
“Don’t let that fuel hatred or anger in you, though, my boy. That is the way of the Deathraiders. Their Inner Light has turned dark because of that. Don’t fear her kind – respect them as adversaries. In time, you will learn to defeat them.” Even one handed… Wyan heard a voice say inside him.
Yes, father and master, even one handed.