Tamerlane

Tamerlane is a character in The Phenomenal Fracas.

Weapon:
He carries a katana, but it holds no special properties and he typically uses his ability to attack instead. There's enough dust embedded in his clothes for him to be able to create small items or sand blasts.

Abilities:
Tamerlane can exert power over dust and sand, using only his mind to shape and move it into any form he desires. Of course, this power is limited to the amount of material he has at his disposal. Furthermore, he must continue concentrating on his creations/attacks, or else the dust will instantly lose it’s shape. The dust takes its toll on him when he’s not careful and he often ends up flaying his exposed skin whenever he moves it too fast. He also possesses an uncanny tracking ability, honed over his many years as a bounty hunter. Tamerlane is trained with his sword, but will only resort to it if his sand powers are restricted.

Description:
Tamerlane is tall, dark, and deadly. His skin is mostly covered by loose clothing, but where it’s visible it’s been tanned and roughened from exposure. A brown, wide collared duster coat hides most of his body and a wide brimmed hat obscures his head. The right arm of the coat is torn apart and a heavily bandaged arm can be seen through the holes. Tamerlane has never shown a sense of humor nor has he shown any remorse for the frequent deaths of his quarry. When he’s tracking a bounty he is restless and focused; when he fights, he is cold-blooded and merciless. He has little regard for the lives of those weaker than him and cares only for his own well-being. He has only met one man he believes is stronger than him.

Biography:
''Haret tumbled down another dune Oh god, I think he saw me, please don’t let him have seen me. His heart still hadn’t stopped it’s mile-a-minute panic. The rumor’s of the Desert King’s tracker were true, all of them. He just massacred them without even touching them! We’ll never recover, our resistance is finished, I’m finished if I can’t get out of here!''

''The young resistance fighter picked himself up out of the sand and began running again. His strides seemed unnaturally long, with each step landing ten feet away per stride. I can’t keep this up he thought as he rounded another dune, trying to keep below the horizon. My manifest power might’ve saved me for the moment, but there’s no way I can keep this up for long. Why does he have to have sand? Of all the places for a dust shaper to manifest, why’d it have to be in the middle of the bloody desert?! Haret rounded another dune and stopped. Maybe it’s safe to take a peek, maybe I’ve lost him Haret slowly crawled up and poked his head over the sand.''

''A monstrous worm of sand reared up before him, bellowing a fearsome roar. On top of what could be assumed as the beast’s head, a dark figure stood, blocking out the sun and glaring down at Haret with impossibly intense eyes. “Noo!” Haret attempted to run, but the dark man had already refocused his power. The worm dissolved and its sand buried Haret’s legs before he could take his second step. “You’ve got the wrong guy!” Haret attempted to turn to face his captor, but his position was too awkward to make out anything but his shadow. “I’m innocent!”''

''Haret could hear the man’s footsteps as he approached “Haret, land skimmer,” a voice rose from behind his back. “You and your group were identified by the King’s diviners the moment your fire starter failed to detonate the Academy.” The footsteps stopped; the man was directly behind Haret.''

''Haret twisted and struggled at the sand, but he only managed to sink himself deeper. “Alright! I surrender! Just let me live, please!” Tears started streaming from his eyes. The dark man knelt down and spoke directly in his ear.''

''“The King has requested that the entire terrorist cell be executed on sight. Your body will be brought back and hung on the palace gate to serve as an example to others who would dare cross him.” The man stood back up and began focusing. Sand began whirling up from the ground and gathering in his hand.''

''“You’re a monster! A monster that slaughters people just because a false king wants them gone!” Haret’s tears were flowing freely from his eyes.''

''“Perhaps you’re right, Haret, perhaps I am a monster.” The sand finished moving and Haret could see the shadow of the man now holding an executioner’s sword. “Or maybe,” the shadow raised its axe over its head, “you’re just a pathetic excuse for a human.” The shadow of the sword swung down foreshadowing the path of its material counterpart. Haret shut his eyes, and cringed from his imminent demise.''

''A light flashed, and Haret felt a clump of sand hit his back. That wasn’t death… He opened his eyes and saw the desert once more, but the shadow of the dark man was nowhere to be seen…''