Timekeepers & Arakai Bio (Concept)
This Goblinoid race of borderline catatonic creatures are solely located within the city of ‘Myst’, or as it is otherwise known, ‘The Clockwork Capital’. They spend their lives as slaves; the children are born into this slavery, and will die having not seen the beauty of the world. This terrible existence is to accommodate for the city’s need for clock repair. From child until death, the Timekeepers will spend every waking second ensuring that every single timepiece in the city is in working order. They have no boss, no working hours. They do it because they don’t know any other way of life, and it’s destroying their souls; the only thing they have left.
Their bodies once stood straight & proud, but after centuries of subterranean slavery, being forced to work until their skin was torn from the bone, they have become crippled. They are allocated enough sustenance to be able to perform their duties, and are extremely sensitive to sunlight, since they have spent their lives in blackness.
The ‘blackness’ I speak of is a series of underground tunnels, not much different to the layout of an ant colony. This is where the Timekeepers were corrupted and destroyed. The first of them to arrive into the city, originally looking for medical aid & shelter, were seen as a threat, and forced into a prison, where they stayed for many months. After this time, they were made to start digging tunnels under the city, which would later be used by subsequent generations to move around whilst avoiding the light. All these years in darkness has rendered them practically blind, although realistically, they are just extremely sensitive to photons. After the tunnels were finished, they continued to reproduce, each generation even more disabled than the last.
Their physical appearance is quite distinctive. They have grey, scarred skin. Some might say that it has a hint of green. Their eyes are solid black, their pupils fully dilated as they struggle to find light where there is none. They have some hair, but it is brittle, weak, and in random patches over their bodies. They have almost no muscle on them, the contours of their bones are clearly visible, and redness around the joints indicates their bones are malnourished and broken. They have a thumb and two fingers. They had two removed, as the idea was to weaken the entire race to a point where it would be able to fix the cities clocks, but nothing more. The children are born with only two fingers and a thumb now. If they are born with any more than this, they are immediately removed, causing unimaginable trauma and pain to the newborn, further inhibiting their will to rebel and change.
Once upon a time, in the slumbering forest now known as Chaotica, there lived a city. It didn’t simply exist; it had pulse & rhythm. Its people were humble, its streets were clean, and its buildings were strong. Markets thrived with pleasant conversation and admirable merchants, all of Dwarven descent. Unfortunately this was a closed community, one who were not accustom to visitors or travelers. This was mainly due to the location of their city. The city itself was located within a crater, made by what was believed to be a comet which crashed into earth from space thousands of years ago. The Arakai had built their house into the walls of the crater, spiraling inwards & upwards towards the central monument, which was the royal spire, where Thorim, the king lived.
Most of the men within the city spent their time developing new technology to further their race, in the hope that someday they would be able to venture out into the forest without so much risk to their lives. After many years of living with only daylight and candles, a group of technicians discovered steam power. Making use of the lava hidden beneath the ground, they were able to boil water to create steam. After 10 years of engineering and forging, every building was being powered with this new source of energy. It completely changed the society. They were able to created weapons and armour faster & stronger, develop a larger variety of cuisine, and have streets lit 24/7. It was a big step for their civilisation. Both in safety, and luxury.
Unfortunately, not everyone saw steam power as the revolutionary move forward that it was. A group was formed, who strongly believed that the discovery of steam power was the beginning of the end for their race, city, and world. They saw the source of heat, the lava, as the gods’ stored power. They were convinced that when the gods saw they were siphoning this power for themselves, they would destroy the Great City, along with all its inhabitants. Through propaganda and manipulation, many families were persuaded to join the cause. This meant that the children did not have a choice but to succumb to the ways of the terrorist group, as it was all they knew. Over many years, the group gathered strength as it waiting for an opportunity to begin their uprising.
Thorim, the high-king of The Great City, had held the throne for 40 years, and a celebration was being organised to honour him and his continued reign. Thorim was a fair leader to the people of The Great City. He treated everyone with compassion, and no-one in the city was left without a home. Everyone had a place to live. In Thorim’s tower, a feast was being prepared. Huge Turkeys and all the trimmings littered the massive rows of tabled set perpendicular to the king’s table, which was located under the huge coat of arms at the far end of the hall. The coat of arms for the city consisted of two angels, kneeling, with their swords in the air, and in the middle, between them lay a dead cat. Not domestic, a large, wild creature, with teeth as big as fingers. This symbolised their respect for the animals they kill so that they may live on.
As the party got under way, cheerful melodies echoed throughout; everyone danced, drank and ate. Times were very good. Or so they all thought. Unfortuantely, none of the terrorist group destined to destroy the city attended the event, and had poisoned some of Thorm’s food. After an hour, Thorim lay dead on his table. With all the merriments, it was a few moments before one of the guards saw that the king was not moving. They promptly terminated the celebrations and alerted every guard in the tower to come to Thorim’s aid. Rushing over to the body, they tried to revive him for 30 minutes before they declared him to be dead. The king was gone. There was no-one to lead them. While the guards were distracted with the king, the group had launched their attack, and began slaughtering all men, women and children not loyal to their cause. There was no-one around to protect them, and as the guards left the tower, they were greeted with hundreds of still, emotionless faces scattered on the ground. The military barricaded themselves into the tower, and gathered in the great hall, preparing for a battle which would eventually destroy their entire race. The terrorists broke down the main door after much banging and thrusting. In the great hall, enemy charged enemy, and those left standing did not live for long after.
Although nearly all of the city was lost to the hand of the group, some managed to escape after hearing the commotion, before the group reached their area of the city. They fled into the wilderness, and began to seek shelter. Some were lost to feral beings living in the surrounding area, and others died of shock and exhaustion. Those who made it to the nearest town & cities, such as Myst, were treated as a mysterious threat, and made to work as slaves for the rest of their lives. They were forced to mate, to keep producing more slaves, and after many years of of this torture, they were forgotten as a race, and simply referred to as the Timekeepers.