Colossus_Tan

WIP


Background
Once upon a time, magic flowed across the world, free and untamed. It ran in unfettered streams through the wild landscape of yore, leaving nothing it touched unchanged. Entire ecosystems flourished or died according to its currents, springing up practically overnight with flora and wild animals abounding, just to shrivel up and die when the path of magic shifted once more and the region dried up. This unpredictability was deemed unacceptable to the gods, who saw fit to step in and intercede, fixing the errors of creation to establish order. At each of the major channels of mystic energy, an anchor was planted, sixteen in total, all aimed at forcing the natural ley lines to cease their constant shifting and redirecting in order to bring stability to the realm. Within each of those arcane restraints, a host of souls was bound together and implanted, tasked with the difficult goal of tending to the astral environment to keep it from wandering astray, ensuring that the world remained a safe place to grow and develop for the tiny mortals that were just beginning to walk its surface. Mighty forests withered and barren deserts burst forth with sudden life as the rivers of magic sought out their newly determined paths, but with time the planet settled into its current state, predictable and unchanging.

With thousands of years of successful management of the world's magical energy accomplished, it might look the system of anchors is working in keeping everything from going haywire. But not all is as it seems under the surface. The solution, effective though it was, had only been intended as a short term fix, not at all planned as the final method of addressing the problem. Already, long-term exposure to the chaotic influences of wild magic have taken their toll on the physical objects used as focal points for the powerful ley line control mechanisms, mutating them from the monumental structures and majestic landmarks into something else entirely. Hopes and dreams and wishes and fears and expectations all pulse through the magical tethers, corrupting and shifting the anchors slowly throughout millennia of existence, turning them into what they are today: lumbering beings that roam across the lands they were designed to protect, searching for something, though what exactly remains to be seen. Perhaps they are looking for someone brave and strong enough to put them out of their misery, so their collective souls can finally rest after so many years of draining labor. Or maybe they seek to find a lasting, suitable alternative to their own imprisonment, so they can be freed of their service and still accomplish their original directive. Of course, they very well might be simply looking to experience life and the world on their own, rather than watching it grow and develop around them without having any part in it.

Whatever the reason, these colossi are now waking up, making their presence known, and participating in the activities that most people take for granted. Simply moving about and seeing other parts of the planet is a fascinating event for them, and they take to it with a child-like sense of wonder that belies their true antiquity.