The Tale of Terra Tom

The Terra Magna at the time was a short, rather stocky man named Tom. Kings and Queens struggled to continue being formal with him, though he seemed unconcerned to show up in their fine tapestried halls in what seemed to be a piece of grime from every field he’d visited. Terra Tom the farmers called him.
This man had sandy hair, weathered skin, and eternal grime trapped in the cracks of his callused palms. This man was one with the land and the land knew it. He was Terra Tom and he was not ashamed of his grime. It was terra. He was the Terra Magna. That’s all there was to it, in his mind.
A man of the dirt.
Wherever he laid his head the light-filled Gobbets would dance above his head until the light woke him and he sucked the rather large blob down. These Gobbets gave him power over the land and all that sprouted from it. During the day, as he was walking in the fields and sniffing in the ditches, there would always be a struggling farmer that needed assistance. Terra Tom was always more than willing to give that assistance.
He touched blighted crops and healed the whole field.
He assisted the birth of a calf and for the rest of that year the cow continued to birth a calf every new moon.
He assisted in the plowing and, regardless of how many fields needed it, was always done by midday.
One year the Gobbets were extra enthusiastic in their nightly attack. Tom had injested so much Light his fingertips glowed, even through their dirt and black callus. Every night his skill with the land was replenished, regardless of what he’d done the day before. Alandalan, his home country, had the best crops, the happiest herds and consequently the fattest farmers in anyone’s rememberance. As they sat in their Harvest Halls and surveyed the abundant checklists of provender a few began to wonder.
Why was this year better than the rest?
What was causing the Gobbet overload?
Were the other Magna’s similarly affected? Was the Aquae Magna giving gentle waters lapping at hulls and licking at shores? Was the Atmos Magna creating blessed summers with gentle rain all over the Aerth, not a cloud to be seen? Was the Aevus Magna seeing the future times in clips of sparkling joy and redundant peace? What was happening?
Well, what was happening was a famine in all the countries to the south of Alandalan. Dry dust. Starving herds. Stringy crops. Lots more dust. When Tom arrived the Atmos Magna was attempting to use his skills with the weather to make the clouds a bit more energetic about their job. He’d been struggling for months now, struggling to gain Gobbets to work new attempts at healing this land. The sky refused the Atmos Magna.
One glance at Tom’s glowing fingertips and they all knew hope had arrived. It was what they thought anyway. It was a suspicion. A whiff of that elusive hope?
Tom used all his knowledge, all his practice with the ground. Every trick he’d ever used turned out to be useless. Every time he turned it was only another hope crumbling to dust behind him. Every night his dreams took him deeper and deeper into the dark, lifeless dirt.
These dreams bothered him and even in waking hours he was unable to shake the feeling of being fully esconced in the dry soil. His lungs burned. He told his recurring dream to the Atmos Magna, who they all knew was well versed in dream lore since all dreams come from the sky. The tall, sinuey Magna could only shrug and guess it was simply because Tom was so bothered about the state of the dirt here. Tom disagreed. He’d been bothered about dirt for as long as he’d been a Magna and had never had any dreams like this.
With a shrug he was told to seek out the Aevus Magna, who could, from her throne in the Mountain of Time, see future possibilities. Maybe she could shed a bit of light on the dirty dream. So to the Aevus Magna Tom went. This Mountain of Time was set inside the Failling Mountains, in its own lush garden. After weeks of travel, Tom was spent but travelling through the mountains seemed to restore him. Their strength and endurance hummed through his every footstep.
Terra Tom eventually entered the Mountain of Time and found the Aevus Magna in her throne. The matter was laid out before her and she was begged to find what solutions they had, both for the starving land and Tom’s dream.
To everyone’s relief she did find an answer, after she spent half a day decended into the mountain of time. It was the name she called the state that allowed her to see options for the future and who was going to point out its redundancy? If the Aevus King wanted to descend into the mountain of time inside the Mountain of Time, she was certainly allowed.
In the end she revealed to Tom that the starving land and his dark dreams were connected. In some of the visions she’d seen him dying, still others showed him ceasing to live and then in others he died. In fact, every last one of them beheld him sacrificing his life to save the land. What was he supposed to do with this information? Terra Tom spent the long trekk back to the barren land in deep thought. When he arrived more of the population had left for greener lands, and even more had died. Tom grabbed a shovel and a pick and set to work in the exact center of the land.
He dug long. For a full month, Tom dug. It was no longer possible to toss the dirt out of the hole. People had tried hauling it up by the bucketfull but Tom was too fast for a bucket. Soon he was trapped in his own diggings. That night Tom lay and peered at the tiny point of the night sky at the very top of his pit.
A Gobbet peeked over the edge. Then two. Then three and they began a sheer waterfall down the side of the pit to Tom. Tom was tired. He watched and even smiled when they gave him the faintest twinkle. They did not seem to want to heal his exhaustion this time. Tom closed his eyes and tried to understand.
He fell asleep. His dream was once more about the deep darkness, but he had already dug so far that the deep dark no longer held any unknowns. Deep in the soil. As he dreampt he began to see that this was always where he’d longed to be. Deep in the soil. Even before the Gobbets had chosen him to be the next Terra Magna. Deep in the soil. This was where he belonged.
Outside the pit the loyal Mayor and a few hopeful farmers had remained in case Tom wanted anything in the night. They were sitting about their campfire, sipping Beetroot tea before bed when a farmer drew their attention to the pit.
It was glowing.
With a glory that mirrored the Great Light that shone in the day, Tom’s pit blazed. More and more Gobbets were slipping from the sky toward the pit and the blaze grew. Soon the farmers had to turn or be blinded.
Then with a splashing bang Light exploded from the pit. The pit exploded. Tom exploded.
Gobs of Light rained down all over the land from that pit. Some fell on the farmers and healed their bruises and scrapes. After the main burst, though the pit still glowed with a fierce Light, they crawled to the edge and squinted down, calling for Tom.
They recieved no answer.
In the following days, months and years the land never quit growing. Residents flocked home and brought friends. Granaries were built. Flocks were grown. Nobody knew hunger.
The tale of Terra Tom holds weight even now.

Age

32

Circumstances of Death

Light Infusion

Gender

male

Eyes

Brown

Hair

Brown. Brown. Brown!

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

By the end of it all: Brown

Height

5'2"

Weight

160pds