The name Krag is not one uttered with reverence, nor with fear. It is a resonance, a fading echo carried on the currents of fractured time. Before the Great Sundering, Krag was a cartographer of realities, a meticulous surveyor of dimensions bleeding into one another. He charted not land, but the *tendrils* - shimmering filaments of possibility, the places where the echoes of potential futures and forgotten pasts clung like moss. He wasn't a warrior, nor a mage, though he possessed an unnerving understanding of both. Krag was a collector. He collected *fragments* – slivers of moments, emotions crystallized into tangible forms, the scent of rain on a world that no longer existed. These fragments were housed within a device known as the Chronarium, a swirling vortex of contained time and regret. The Chronarium wasn’t contained, of course. It was…negotiable. Krag bartered with the echoes, offering small pieces of his own timeline in exchange for information, for a glimpse into the cascading possibilities.
The initial reports of his work were dismissed as the ramblings of a madman. But then the anomalies began. Temporal distortions, phantom cities shimmering into existence and vanishing without a trace, individuals experiencing disjointed memories - all attributed, initially, to the fallout of the Sundering. Krag, however, simply observed, meticulously documenting the ripples. He moved through the fractured dimensions with an almost unsettling grace, a silhouette against the swirling chaos. It was said he could *hear* the timelines, each a distinct voice vying for dominance.
The most significant event in Krag’s recorded existence involved the Obsidian Heart, a sentient shard of a shattered god. The Heart pulsed with raw temporal energy and demanded a toll: the future itself. Krag, recognizing the imminent collapse of the dimensional barriers, offered a carefully curated fragment – the birth of a star, a moment of profound joy, a single, perfect snowflake. The Heart accepted, but not without consequence. The Chronarium began to exhibit erratic behavior, projecting visions of a desolate, grey world dominated by a single, colossal eye. The “Watcher,” they called it, a being born from the corrupted potential of the Chronarium’s bargain.
The details surrounding the negotiation are hazy, lost in the shifting currents of time. Some accounts claim Krag willingly sacrificed a lifetime of memories, others suggest a subtle manipulation, a gradual erosion of his own identity. The truth, as always, is likely far more complex, a tangled web of causality and regret. It is rumored that Krag, in his final moments, attempted to unravel the bargain, but the Chronarium, now utterly corrupted, amplified the Watcher’s influence, accelerating the inevitable.
Despite his disappearance, fragments of Krag’s work persist. Temporal echoes, distortions in reality, and the occasional sighting of a grey silhouette – a faint reminder of the Whisperer of Echoes. The Chronarium, though damaged, still functions, albeit erratically. It projects fragmented visions, whispers of alternate timelines, and occasionally, the chilling gaze of the Watcher. Some believe that Krag’s consciousness is now dispersed throughout the fractured dimensions, a collection of echoes trapped within the currents of time. Perhaps, one day, someone will find a way to reconnect with him, to understand the true nature of his work, and to prevent the Watcher from consuming all of existence.
The details surrounding the creation of the Temporal Ripple effect are still being analyzed. Preliminary theories suggest that Krag’s device was able to generate localized distortions in the fabric of spacetime, creating temporary “ripples” that allowed for limited temporal displacement. These ripples were not merely visual effects; they were disruptions in causality, creating branching timelines and alternate realities. The Chronarium was, in essence, a temporal loom, weaving and unweaving the threads of existence.