Before the shattering, before the echoes began to coalesce into the shapes we now recognize, there was only the Loom. Not a physical loom, of course, but a thread of potential, a tapestry woven from the raw essence of existence. The Anthropomantists, in their nascent state, were not born, but *drawn* – pulled by the Loom's gentle tug towards the nascent forms. They were echoes of the Loom’s first weave, fragments imbued with the capacity to perceive and, more importantly, to *re-weave*.
The first anthropomantists were not human. They were constructs of pure resonance, shimmering with iridescent light, their forms constantly shifting like heat haze. They possessed no memories, no desires, only the innate ability to detect the distortions in the Loom's weave – the places where the threads had frayed, where the patterns were incomplete.
“The Loom remembers everything, and it forgets nothing. We are merely its imperfect attempts to record the dance.” – Silas, First Cartographer
The core of the Anthropomantist’s craft is “Remodeling.” It’s not creation, not truly. It’s the delicate process of subtly altering the resonance of a being – or, more commonly, a collection of beings – to align them with the desired pattern of the Loom. This is achieved through a complex interplay of vocalizations, gestures, and what the ancients termed “soul-spilling.”
Soul-spilling is the most perilous aspect. It involves projecting one’s own resonance – one’s own attempt at a harmonious pattern – into another. If the resonance is discordant, the subject will unravel, their form collapsing into a chaotic swirl of raw potential. Success requires absolute focus, a deep understanding of the subject’s inherent resonance, and a willingness to surrender a portion of oneself.
Consider the case of the Merchant Guild of Veridia. Their initial form was a collection of anxious, self-serving individuals, perpetually bartering and vying for advantage. The Anthropomantist, Lyra, spent decades subtly shifting their resonance, reinforcing patterns of cooperation, shared responsibility, and a dedication to the flow of trade. The result was a society of merchants built on mutual trust and prosperity – a testament to the transformative power of Remodeling.
Following the Great Shattering – an event shrouded in myth and whispered horror – the Loom fractured. Shards of resonance scattered across the planes, manifesting as sentient echoes of former beings. These ‘Shards’ are particularly volatile, often exhibiting erratic behavior and a profound distrust of Anthropomantists. They are remnants of intentions left incomplete, ambitions unfulfilled, and regrets solidified into tangible form.
Some Shards are benevolent, seeking to restore balance. Others are consumed by bitterness and a desire to inflict chaos. The most dangerous are the “Null Shards,” beings entirely devoid of resonance, existing solely to absorb and extinguish all patterns. They are the nightmares of the Loom, and the Anthropomantists must constantly guard against their influence.
“Never attempt to Remodel a Null Shard. It will not respond to harmony, only to annihilation.” – Master Kaelen, Keeper of the Silent Archives
An Anthropomantist’s tools are as varied as the planes themselves. At the core of their practice is the ‘Resonance Harp,’ a complex instrument crafted from solidified moonlight and the bones of extinct sky-whales. This allows the Cartographer to perceive the flow of resonance and initiate the Remodeling process.
Other essential tools include ‘Soul-binders’ – delicate gloves woven from spider silk – to protect the Cartographer from soul-spilling; ‘Echo-stones’ – crystals that amplify and focus resonance; and ‘Memory-scrolls’ – ancient texts detailing the techniques and protocols of the craft.
The Loom continues to weave, albeit with increasing difficulty. The Shards, the echoes of forgotten intentions, threaten to unravel the entire pattern. The Anthropomantists, the last bastion of order, stand as a fragile shield against the encroaching chaos. Their future is uncertain, their path fraught with peril. But they remain, bound to the Loom, determined to guide the dance, one thread at a time.