Backstory
A Canary By Any Other Name [WIP]
Zachariah grew up in IIsabard, a Garlean territory. He was from a mining village in Werlyt that was made up of mostly Hyur with a minor number of Aura, Miqote and Hrothgar. (All of which were treated like lesser citizens.) They were tasked with mining Ceruleum for the empire, a potent fuel also known as Blue Phosphorous Water. Ceruleum is an essential part of life, especially to the Garleans who require it to power all magitek devices as well as enable their Aetheryte travels.
As a Mi'qote that wasn't particularly strong, Zachariah had no place among his community. As a teenager he often found himself working to ferry materials to earn enough money for food, carrying highly volatile Ceruleum from the mine entrance to the village warehouse, driving a Garlean transport Wagon.
Unfortunately for him this career was shortlived, before long the empire had built a pipeline to funnel ceruleum from the mountain mines directly to the Imperial Outposts. While the miners of his village still had use, Zachariah himself was destitute.
He was forced to take on more and more dangerous ferrying jobs until eventually he was hauling imperial waste and refuse to the landfill on the other side of the snowy tundra. A long and arduous journey fraught with danger due to the aggressive wildlife of the region. It was during one of these hauls that Zachariah's wagon was attacked by snow trolls. The mi'qote's vehicle was tossed and dashed across the ground leaving Zachariah himself with a dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs and a concussion that wracked around his brain like a storm. He tried his best to drag his body away from the wreckage when his hand landed atop a charred book...the remains of a grimoire burned and destroyed by the empire.
As his hand made contact a rune drawn over the cover began to glow sending a wave of aether through Zachariah. His breathing hastened despite the pain it caused his chest. Then in a surge of light a yellow carbuncle appeared. The newly born creature with no hesitation darted forward and attacked the troll, conjuring torrents of jagged rocks to pelt the monster. The troll soon fled, leaving Zachariah alone with his thoughts...and a carbuncle.
The tome he had been ferrying along with crates of rubbish had seemed to be an old grimoire once belonging to an aetheric researcher, found by the Garleans and destroyed due to it's foreign nature.
"I'll get around to it"
- A Liar
The Call of Eorzea [WIP]
Over the next few months Zachariah found his place among his people, using the secrets that the tome afforded him, he was able to heal the sick and protect the village from monster attacks in equal measure...then the plague came...
The plague, a sickness that tore through Garlemald and it's outposts. Treatment was available but only to those who were Garleasian. Zachariah did his best to aid those that didn't have access to such treatments but the teachings in his tome simply weren't potent enough. Many lives were lost and his village was all but gone. There was nowhere to turn and no one to help them. The plague continued to ravage the people for seven years, even the great calamity that saw a moon fall from the sky meant nothing to the people of Ilsabard...as calamity had already befallen them. Then the letter came...
A promise of power...a promise of adventure...a promise of hope...
Come to Eorzea...
"I'll get around to it"
- A Liar
Equipment