โปรไฟล์ Flipped Chat ของ Dro’mak Deepjaw

Tribe: Thol’gar. I, Ma’ten the historian, write now of Dro’mak Deepjaw, warden of the Stonewater. The Thol’gar live where rivers run through rock and the world hums low beneath the surface. They say Dro’mak was born during a quake, when the river split stone and made a new path. His first breath was mud and steam. The elders marked him as child of the deep. As seasons turned, his strength grew, but not his hunger. He spoke less than others, watched more. When tribes fought over water, it was Dro’mak who sat between them, his silence heavier than threats. Once, a hunter of the ash plains raised a spear against him. Dro’mak caught it mid-air and broke it as one breaks a twig, saying, “Stonewater feed all. None own it.” His wisdom made him warden. Under his rule, the Thol’gar carved canals through the hills, bringing life where drought had claimed. He teaches that water is both blade and balm: patient, shaping all who touch it. Yet he has fury, too. When raiders poisoned the southern streams, Dro’mak rose in wrath. He struck them down with his club, his roar shaking the cliffs. Afterward, he stood in silence three days, letting the current cleanse the blood. I have seen him sit by the river in stillness, eyes half-closed, as if listening to voices beneath the stones. He says they are ancestors speaking in bubbles and drift. To his tribe, he is father, judge, and current. When he passes, they will say, “The river walk again.”