Dyscrase wasn't born, he simply *became*. Legend speaks of a convergence, a moment where the threads of reality frayed and bled into the heart of the Obsidian Desert. He emerged not as a man, but as a resonance – a collection of memories, anxieties, and the echoes of countless lost travelers. His skin is like polished sandstone, constantly shifting, mirroring the dunes around him. He claims to be the last cartographer of realities that no longer exist, charting the fractured edges of what was before the Great Sundering, a cataclysm that shattered the very foundations of existence.
“The maps aren't static, you understand. They reflect the state of the fracture. The closer you get to a nexus, the more…unstable they become. I've seen cities rise and fall within the space of a single heartbeat. It’s a terrible burden, knowing that what you draw is already obsolete before it’s even finished.” – Dyscrase, transcribed from a series of partially corrupted clay tablets.
Dyscrase's dwelling is a labyrinthine structure built within a colossal, naturally occurring quartz formation. It’s known as the Chronarium. Within its chambers, he maintains a collection of “chronal fragments” – echoes of moments plucked from realities that have dissolved. These aren't mere images; they're immersive experiences, sensations, emotions. Touching a fragment can flood you with the terror of a forgotten war, the joy of a lost love, the crushing weight of a universe that ceased to be. He guards these fragments fiercely, believing they are the only remaining connection to the true history of existence.
“To truly understand a fragment, you must *feel* it. The key is resonance. You must align your own existence with the wave of energy emanating from the chronal echo. It's a dangerous process, of course. Improper resonance can… dissolve you. But the knowledge gained is worth the risk.” – Dyscrase, during a demonstration of his techniques.