Lerithyn – Kor Artificer (Gunsmith)

Lerithyn was always the odd one for a Kor.  Sickly from a young age, his mother carried him in a toddler sling for nearly half of a pilgrimage.  He didn’t walk until the age of 4, barely recognized that the waving hands directed at him were a form of speech, and merely cried out when hungry or tired.  He was a burden on his tribe, but they never gave up on him. 

Seven years into Lerithyn’s first pilgrimage, the tribe crossed another on their pilgrimage. There, an elderly Kor woman by the name of Lillith was drawn to him. She was able to focus Lerithyn’s attention with a tiny trinket and taught him to speak his first words. That week with the other tribe, Lerithyn had learned more than he ever had the whole seven years he was with his own tribe. Taken aback by the progress, his parents begged Lillith to travel with them and to continue Lerithyn’s tutelage. However, the path that Lerithyn’s parents traveled was far too dangerous for Lillith, and her own tribe had come to rely on her magic on their own pilgrimage. She offered to take Lerithyn with her instead.

He was adopted by the tribe of Suk-har, the Temple Path, a pilgrimage that only lasted a year.

Lerithyn ran his first ropes on this pilgrimage, learned quickly under the guidance of Lillith, and built up a large collection of trinkets. The first time his trinkets fell from the ropes, he nearly jumped down after them. He was stopped by Lillith, barely, as she wove a spell to calm him. She focused his attention and made him understand that on the ropes there was no place for burdens. He had to travel light or fall and crash like the trinkets he cherished so much. Lerithyn’s mind works in an odd way, so Lillith’s lesson taught him something vital to his future… it taught him that he would have to live like a bird.

Lerithyn found the perfect nesting location. One hidden from the other Kor. One that he knew no one would ever find. That’s where he starting putting the trinkets he found in his year-long ‘expeditions’. As the years passed, Lerithyn quickly became essential in finding the perfect ebbs and flows of gravity. Often times the other Kor would comment on how he must have been a gomazoa in another life. He was able to find the quickest routes through the pilgrimage, sneak away as the rest rested, and start his expeditions into the sacred grounds his tribe was meant to protect. The years piled on and his nest grew fat. Occasionally Lerithyn would return from his nest with a new contraption that he’d made to quicken the expedition. Sticky substances that would allow ropes to hang without hooks, attachments to arms and legs that would simplify climbing, even a crossbow he had crafted out of raw materials. The Kor scoffed at that one, calling it a slight to tradition. Lerithyn liked it though…

As he grew older, so did Lillith. Eventually she was sent to rest in the arms of Talib during a skirmish with a tribe of goblins. Lerithyn watched the spectacle with curiosity as the Kor flew at them, snagged them with their lines, sliced them, then quickly moved to avoid the explosive trinkets the goblins threw at them. The explosions hurt his ears and left them ringing. The light hurt his eyes and left white spots on everything he looked at. Those trinkets were the most uncomfortable thing he had ever experienced. No wonder the goblins were able to take out such a powerful person as Lillith – They had trinkets that killed and made Lerithyn uncomfortable. He gathered as many as he could.

After that Lerithyn couldn’t focus on anything but making something more amazing than the goblins did. He rushed his tribe through the rest of the pilgrimage, forgoing any further expeditions so that he could return to his nest. Once there, he began working on something more terrifying than explosive trinkets. He recalled the words and movements that Lillith made in battle, the words she spoke as she healed the fallen, and tried to imprint them upon his trinkets. He worked day and night as the rest of his tribe visited the sacred shrine down below. Eventually, without a wink of sleep, he crafted his very first firearm.

As he exited his nest he half-expected his tribe to be as exhilarated as he was. They weren’t there.

They must still be at the sacred site. He rushed down to show them his creation. Standing upon a cliff looking down at his tribe, he saw what kept them at the site. The goblins were back. They had somehow caught up with the tribe. Now he could show them his creation.

He grinned and pointed the gun at a group of goblins. He had crafted 40 projectiles that night and he ended up using every single one. Each time the weapon fired, there was a deafening explosion in the air. He could see the goblins ducking as he stood above them, firing down. Explosion after explosion rang out upon the holy site. Eventually Lerithyn forgot to aim, and his own people were found ducking to keep away from his shots. The fountain they protected exploded, raining water upon the battlefield. The goblins began scattering into the ranks of the Kor to be met with bloody hooked rope and enchanted stone blades. The night was won. Lerithyn stood atop the cliff with a huge grin on his face, black powder staining his ivory white features. His people looked up at him in horror.

The sacred site was lost, destroyed by Lerithyn’s amazing creation. The nights following were a blur. He only really remembers being told to find his own pilgrimage, that his pilgrimage was no longer theirs. He didn’t really understand until much later in his life that he was exiled. He gathered up what trinkets he could from his nest, promised the rest that he would be back for them, and headed in the direction he was told.

Traveling the ropes was much harder alone, and Lerithyn found it was nearly impossible to accomplish without a tribe. Eventually he found himself on solid ground. It felt strange after an hour of traveling without the earth moving beneath him. He heard noises in the distance and, at times, nearby. Suddenly, without warning, there was shouting nearby followed by a grunt and the sound of steel on flesh. Lerithyn wondered over, saw a man pinned down by a great cat with huge teeth and sharp blades protruding from its arms and legs. Lerithyn aimed and fired, sending the animal barreling into a tree. The cat was dead. His ears rang as the man began speaking. Lerithyn gestured for him to speak with his hands, but the man continued talking. He was a human, Lerithyn knew, as he had seen them before from above as the tribe avoided them on the pilgrimage. Lerithyn turned to leave, but the man grabbed ahold of his arm and spoke again, “Thank you for saving me,” he said, “I’m Aldhara, on expedition from House Cannith. Are you an Artificer?”

Aldhara led Lerithyn back to his camp and introduced the rest of his group. They noticed Lerithyn’s firearm and began asking questions.  He answered as best he could, but the attention was awkward and unpleasant.

As stories are told, the rest of Lerithyn’s history is bland. He travelled with Aldhara and joined him in House Cannith, living in Sharn and adapting to the culture of the city. He still hates being touched, doesn’t speak much, and is fascinated with technology. He’s learned a lot since his youth in Zendikar, has grown wiser, and has improved upon his weapon of choice.  He covers himself up in robes and hides his barbs so as to fit in. He hates when people question him on his looks, so he’s learned to avoid eye contact when speaking. They gave him space to do his own research in Sharn and let him learn at his own pace. It seems as though House Cannith were used to eccentrics, and the variety of people he found there were nearly as interesting as the trinkets they created. Still, he finds himself wishing to return to Zendikar some nights. He understands the events of his past now. He knows what he did, and he knows he needs to make amends.