Worker

 

Workers are action and creation. They are the forces and movers of the Wyld. Their first act is to forge themselves out of gossamer and dream, and when this is accomplished, they do not rest. They pursue the labors of their lives with endless, rigorous devotion. They are machines. They are insects. They are pure and unceasing flames, driving with their work the great engine of the madlands.

The symbol of the Worker is the ring — the closed circle, the snake that devours itself, the phoenix born from her own egg, the storyteller caught in her own story and the reflective “I” that gazes endlessly upon its own nature within a raksha’s mind. Of all the raksha, the Workers know themselves best and change the least. Some have a quiet, deep pride in their nature that lets them laugh at others’ temptations. Others are empty, static husks, content to scrub, patrol, watch, whore, tidy, garden or transcribe for all eternity because it is their function. This is their Temperance and their devotion, the source of their energy, from which the nobles harvest gossamer.

The raksha of the ring have a knack for shape. They are crafters and makers. The Wyld shifts more slowly around them and, in a fashion, more precisely. The greatest wonders of the raksha are shaped by the hands that know the ring — Workers and the nobles that share, after a fashion, the nature of that kind.

Workers hate Creation because it is their nature to do so. It is grime in the gears of the Wyld. It is a short circuit in the chaos. Most of all, its existence mocks them. The great machine of Creation, the bastion of shape, makes a parody of their existence. It is a blasphemy against them, much as a stuporous, drunken four-armed idol would blaspheme against the Unconquered Sun. It must end because it is wrong, and while it is wrong, nothing and no one can truly be right.

Those who find themselves in Creation seek out those pockets of Creation that least offend them — temples, workshops and villages with a meditative air. Where mortals and spirits live in harmony with themselves, the Workers can feel somewhat at ease with Creation and use the subtle airs of Temperance to fuel their own. In fits of hunger, ravishers rip the Temperance and self-definition from the mortal soul. Their victims lose their certainty and resolve. Once drained to nothing, a victim forgets herself when faced by the slightest temptation — her convictions remain strong, but her ability to focus on them dissolves. Dissipated and inattentive, mortals stripped of Temperance can no longer function as part of the great machine. Trouble and sorrow follows them until they die.

Caste Traits: Workers are skilled at disciplined and creative arts. Their Caste Abilities are Bureaucracy, Craft, Endurance, Lore and Martial Arts.

Grace and Virtue: Workers feed on Temperance. They favor the Ring Grace and its Charms, which channel Temperance and give them the awareness of self. The Ring has the power to inspire and control productive labor.

Controlling Grace: Compassion controls Temperance. Entertainers create desire, while Workers provide service. Their service is least accepted when it stands in opposition to desire and most valued when functionality and desire conjoin. Artisans — noble Workers with certain of an Entertainer’s skills — are the nobles best fitting the Workers’ description above.

Associations: The inward direction, the color white, the place nearby, the shinma Nirvishesha, creation and insight.

Sobriquets: Jathita, Laborers, Chaos Ants, Rigid Ghosts, Circle and Forge Folk, Makers, Ring People, The Servile Ones, Shapers of Worlds, Kobolds

 

 

I have changed your

dreams and aspirations.

They should be more

functional now.