Far, far in the north, a man... or maybe something more, awakened and looked down upon the land, that was untouched and unformed, like empty canvas, yet to be painted.
'I am now.' he said, understanding that there was no one to listen... yet.
'But was I before? Or was I born in this very moment?' he wondered.
'Does not matter. I am going to shape the future here, for I understand what must be done.' he decided, reaching towards the land, making it bulge at his touch. Soon, chain of mountains, high and remote was formed.
'Here, I shall plant the seeds from which my children will be born. But this land must harsh on them, as I will be, or they will suffer from others. The land must be ruthless and unforgiving, so they will have to be strong. I will give them nothing... but thorns, cold wind and jagged mountains. Only then they will have what it takes to thrive.'He did as he said, brining harsh winds against the jagged mountains and sharp briers that bore bitter fruits into deep and dark valleys. And he saw what he created, and it was pure. Those where the first works of
'Windstalker, Whisperer in the Storm' 2d6=8 - power roll
1xShape Land, 1x Shape Climate, two points of power remaining
(mountains, thorns that fruit can be harvested and eaten, but one has to be scratch his arms to blood in order to do so and and cold wind, coupled with rare rains and low temperature)
Map: