Tingles Middraft (RIP)

Childhood: Tingles was born forty-four years ago, to a farmer family outside of Dawnspire, spending his days tending to the farm, playing with the local hawks he had befriended, and tinkering with inventions in his room. These inventions were never significant, mostly things to use to screw around with his twin sister, Needles.
Needles always had a knack for reading and magic, drawing the envy of Tingles on occasion, as well as the praise of their parents. This led to Tingles feeling abandoned, his inventive spirit dwindling as he designed things he knew he would never build without better accommodations, a handheld machine so powerful it could level a building with the pull of a trigger. It could show up his sister’s fireballs and then some. As Tingles moved from childhood to adolescence, he began to wonder about his father’s barn, which the children were never allowed inside of. His father had always said it was too dangerous for children, the tools and machinery in there would hurt them if they made a mistake, but Tingles was no child anymore, and he was ready to try his hand at creating a masterpiece. He knew there had to be a forge in the barn, he’d heard his father making horseshoes which he sold at markets, and his father even promised to teach him one day. The only thing left blocking him was an intricate lock, one that a traditional lockpick could never open.
So, on a fateful day in the winter, when Tingles’ father was away at the market in Daybreak City for a few days, and his mother and sister at the Solare for the battlemages to teach Needles spells, Tingles put a plan into action. Over the past weeks, Tingles had been creating a small insect-like robot, which would adhere to a lock, and freeze the metal before releasing a burst of steam, cracking it as though it simply snapped in the cold. A cover story for the broken lock, an entry to the barn, and an unlucky surprise. As the barn door slid open, Tingles saw exactly what kinds of tools his father made, those of war. Incredibly intricate instruments, axes which spun on rings, warhammers which propelled themselves using bursts of flame, and a large, tattered cloth blocking off the rest of the building. The forge, however, was plenty visible, and beckoned to Tingles. So what if his father made weapons, must run in the family he thought.
The next three days were spent crafting the perfect weapon. Capable of handheld devastation, a hand cannon so powerful it could turn the tides of a 10 to 100 invasion force. Tingles could not wait for his father to be home, and continued to craft his designs, making intricate guns with ornate decorations, bullets which could create clouds of smoke, melt the snow, and even replicate some spells. Eventually, however, Tingles thought he could incorporate some of the ingredients his father used. Military-grade materials. Testing a red powder of unknown origin, Tingles lit a small dash, expecting a small poof, and getting a reaction so powerful it threw him beyond the tattered cloth, and directly into the wall behind. The cloth fell with him, mostly uninjured except for a slight pain in his back, Tingles stood up and surveyed the damage. The workbench was unharmed, but the oil lamp was turned to powder, and the cloth was burnt. Looking at what was behind the cloth, Tingles learned a hard truth, an altar with a skull on it bearing a red gem in the forehead, and a sigil of The Order of the Ideals of the Unknown hanging on the wall. Tingles’ father did not work for King Midor, he supplied the elite warriors of a cult.
This was just in time for Tingles’ father to return, sprinting into the barn to pull Tingles out, chewing an ear out in a lecture about responsibility, Tingles almost neglected to mention the handiwork he had created, but at the last second displayed what he had made. His father was impressed by the simple bullets that could replicate spells, but when Tingles pulled out the hand cannon he had designed for mass destruction, he had his father’s full attention. Taking aim at a dead tree his father had promised to remove years ago, he pulled the trigger, and for a moment, all was silent. It was as though the world had to brace itself for what was to come. Then, the gun let out a blast so powerful, it destroyed the tree, and dug a trench thirty feet behind it. This blast produced enough kick to break Tingles’ arm, but the look on his father’s face was worth every moment of pain. For once, Tingles’ skills meant something. For once, he had his father’s attention.
Recruit Years: As Tingles progressed to his adult years, roughly aged forty three now, his father taught him about making weapons. How to balance them properly, how to handle the kick, and more importantly, how to market them. They never once spoke of what Tingles saw behind that cloth, it was unspoken that he knew, but Tingles could never bring himself to ask about it. Maybe he didn’t want the answer. He could convince himself it was all a misunderstanding.
Regardless, Tingles’ talents were scouted by King Midor’s army, and his father encouraged him to accept an offer made by Hastur Grandspear, a general who’s fighting days were coming to an end. Tingles joined King Midor’s army as a soldier, determined to rival his sister, who had already been training in the Solare for nearly a year.
In training, Tingles made friends with a large dragonborn man named Tallur Grandspear, the son of Hastur, the two would play pranks on other cadets, namely Isla Stormbringer as she always got incredibly worked up over them, even something as simple as a vibrating tick-bot attached to the bottom of her bunk, she would threaten Tingles, but Tallur was always there to back him up. They got in more scraps and more trouble than any other cadet there, but Hastur himself said at their graduation, they must have had the most fun of any recruit ever.
Front-Lines Years: Having graduated, Tingles and Tallur remained together for quite some time, rising through the ranks before the onslaught of undead from the South truly got bad. Once it did, both of them were called to the front line. Tingles could never use that hand cannon, his father had done something with it, calling it too dangerous, and Tingles could never remember how to create it, as hard as he tried to recreate it, or else maybe the war with The Empire of Dusk would be over by now.
In the front lines of battle, Tallur and Tingles would fight side-by-side, becoming one of the most effective duos there were out there, going so far as to breach lines of undead to take down the necromancers behind them, then break back through the line to tend to other soldiers. They took down all manner of enemies, mages, zombies, skeletons, and even vampires on occasion.
All until Tallur signed them up for a mission nobody had ever signed on for. A simple in-and-out, one target. The vampire lord Viresse Al Khan III. Viresse had given the forces of King Midor’s army quite some trouble by orders alone, and never seemed to show herself on the battlefield, allowing underlings to do all her work. However, her crowd had thinned, and the army was ready to make a gambit.
Tallur and Tingles were escorted to the fort in which Viresse governed from, and proceeded inside. Making their way through this fort, Tallur and Tingles lost count of how many vampire spawn and acolytes they killed, they made a contest of it, with them each losing track nearing fifty. Eventually, they reached the chamber in which Viresse lied resting, and had been instructed to wait until sunrise to fight her, as their magic would be stronger and hers weaker. Tallur suggested getting it over with sooner, and before Tingles had time to respond, Tallur had burst through the door, burying his spear in Viresse’s coffin. No more resurrections, no more do-overs. A fight for her life. Viresse fought dirty, blinding spells and displacing Tingles and Tallur to make them lose their bearings, and more importantly, eachother. After long enough, Tingles had run out of flash bullets to keep Viresse at bay, and Tallur called out his name to find his location, but this time, no response came. Again and again Tallur called out, to no avail. Once Viresse’s blindness spell had finally faded, Tallur saw what scene laid before him. Tingles, holding onto Viresse’s hair, her fangs embedded in his neck, and one sunstone chamber in Tingles’ now stiff hand. A sunstone chamber, which held enough light to sear through the flesh of even the living, now empty, having petrified Viresse as she landed a killing blow.
Death/Resurrection: From conversations with Tallur in the future, Tingles learned what happened afterward. Tallur was heartbroken, afraid, and for the first time in his soldiership, he was alone. He wrenched Tingles from the clutches of the vampire lord, and carried him out of enemy territory, using up what little reserves of sunlight were in his spear before dawn; he had slain three vampires with his bare hands. Not because he had no other choice, but because he was enraged. Tallur wanted them to pay, and he would stop at nothing before this war was over.
Tallur carried Tingles’ body all the way back through enemy lines, and was escorted back to Daybreak City to receive a hero’s welcome, and a promotion. Tallur was now a captain, and Tingles was to be entombed with the highest honor King Midor could spare, an Amber Knight. An Amber Knight is a status given to those who gave their life for a cause so great that the world could have perished without their sacrifice. Often, these Amber Knights combatted the Beasts Below, but with the new war raging, the first Knight fell to the Empire of Dusk.
Tallur sat and grieved at Tingles’ tomb for almost two days straight, hardly taking the time to eat and drink, before resolving that he could not let their story end here. He only knew of one place where someone may hold the power to truly resurrect someone, and that was the Lich’s Wing. Forbidden to enter, but headstrong and grief-stricken, Tallur used the birthright of his name to enter the Lich’s Wing, and wandered for so long he wondered if he would perish himself, before finally happening upon Araineas in her library. Tallur threw himself upon the ground, begging Araineas to take his life, to take his soul and use it to bring back Tingles, and that he would accept any price which he must pay, if only to make right his arrogance which led to his friend’s- no, his brother’s demise.
Tallur would never reveal what happened between here and when Araineas revived Tingles, whether he truly paid anything, or whether she did it out of the kindness of her heart, which was not out of the question. No matter how much Tingles asked, Tallur would only ever respond that he did what he had to do.
Her Lady’s Honor Guard: Tallur was never quite the same after that event. Serious, driven and strict, he became one of the most talented military minds on Vaalshilles, commanding King Midor’s army with expertise which made his ancestors proud. Tallur reclaimed land from the Empire of Dusk that had been taken over for years already.
Tingles, however, had followed a different path. After his resurrection, Tingles had been inducted into Her Lady’s Honor Guard, an elite squadron of soldiers dedicated to the service of Araineas, an old friend of the Midor bloodline, having lived in the palace for longer than anyone had been alive. She kept a select few soldiers close, as her Honor Guard, giving them badges with small, bright blue gemstones rather than diamonds used by the rest of the military, and bright red cloaks.
Araineas and Tingles got to know each other quickly, as Tingles took more interest in her past than most Honor Guard members did. He remembers nights where the two of them stayed up well through the night, into the next sunrise talking, sometimes about Araineas’ life, sometimes about books they had both read, and sometimes just about the mundanities of life, politics, and how to make banana bread.
Tingles had become Araineas’ most trusted Honor Guardsman in mere months, and had been given a task. Araineas needed him to retrieve a debt owed to her by a very unusual demon in the Drakelands, one which had no true name yet, but had served as a patron for her in her younger years, and she was sending Tingles, as her most trusted, to retrieve this item. A rib bone, engraved with magic of souls, a piece of her phylactery; her own ribcage. She had told Tingles the story once, how she became a lich, but it slips his mind now, not all memories can be restored, some must be relieved.
And so, Tingles left. On a quest to retrieve a rib bone from a demon in the Drakelands, he travelled there by boat and then by foot, before entering the drakelands. Avoiding dragons was a hassle, but nothing that a great warrior like Tingles couldn’t manage, before reaching the peak of one of the mountains, Tingles knew it was the right place as all vegetation that usually thrived on the geothermal heat of the Drakelands were wilted and dead, despite being in optimal conditions.
Sitting atop the mountain was a massive pale humanoid, seemingly devoid of life, but also so full of it. It outstretched one bony, clawed hand with a snapping of a joint, holding the rib bone without a word. Tingles had tried to exchange pleasantries, but it seemed wholly uninterested. As Tingles smiled and waved goodbye, it snapped its head to look at him, and he jumped back in fear, losing his footing and cascading down the mountainside. Tingles remembered now, hitting his head. His cape and badge torn off on the jagged rocks above him, and then the landing.

Tingles and Tallur, during the black hole event on the separate island, after laying down their weapons and sitting to watch The End
“Kind of surreal, isn’t it? Been working at this for all this time… Now we’re here.”
“I really didn’t think we’d get here”
“Every step of the way, we watched. I truly thought when it was down to you and Akai…”
“I know, I know, but I couldn’t just let them die. Evil or not, they were still my friends. I had hoped that maybe that would be their wake-up call, that they would call it quits after that. . . “
“We hope for many things, Tingles. I had hoped that you would come back to us, I had hoped for so much time, that the next time I saw you, it would be over. To hope for the impossible is as good as wishing upon a star.”
“Hah, I can tell you’ve been spending time with Araineas. Gods, I miss how things used to be. I miss Daybreak, I miss pranking Isla with you, I even miss Stal! Why did it have to go this way?”
“I do too, Tingles. There is scarcely a day I don’t think of those times, and never a day I don’t mourn their loss. Perhaps, one day in the future, we will be reunited with them. Turned tail or not, Araineas is still willing to accept you.”
“Araineas. . . I can’t believe I haven’t seen her this entire time. I figured maybe one day she would show up and take me home, but she never came. . . Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything, Tingles.”
“When you brought me back, all those years ago, what did you trade?”
“Tingles, I thought we agreed… Ah, never mind. It’s been long enough. I gave her my soul and my word, Tingles. I promised her that I would never allow another comrade to die in the field under my watch, I would become the shield for those in need.”
“Tallur. . . I owe you more than a life, and even then I’ve still failed you in that way. Do you. . . do you regret bringing me back?”
“Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder how things would have changed… But no, I don’t regret it. You did much good in the world before what happened. And even before then, you showed me how to live. Consider your debt scored.”
“I wish I could go back to the day I left Daybreak, where I got my memories back and found you. If I could change anything, I would’ve stayed with you. I would’ve stayed where I belonged. Home.”
“Too much focus on the past leads to a murky future, Tingles. Perhaps, had you stayed, they would have failed. Perhaps, they would have found someone else. Someone worse. You can only control so much by your place in the world, it is often best not to worry with the ifs and buts, simply go where you are needed. And you did exactly that.”
“I guess there’s no use thinking about what could’ve happened, we’re here at the end. I wasn’t supposed to know about this beforehand, but a few people told me. Is there anything after this? Do we exist after this?”
“The magic behind this is uncertain. Inidir’s half-finished schemes, and Trip’s variable power could cause many outcomes, and that’s not factoring in Astra’s fragmented mind. Perhaps things go as they should, new worlds created, and a great number of people survive. Judging by Inidir’s soul lines, that isn’t the case. The best we can hope for is that Araineas survives, for through her, we live on.”
“We’ll both have another chance at life, well, un-life? Maybe there we can make up for lost time. I can show you a thing or two about farming, city boy.”
“Ha! You might be able to show me how to clear space for a field with an explosion, that’s for sure! Maybe I can teach you to wipe your feet before entering a home, or to chew with your mouth closed!”
“Hey! I have carefully cultivated a healthy layer of dirt and grime down there, it keeps my feet safe! And chewing with my mouth open is a compliment to the chef! If only you could’ve tasted Nargol’s pancakes, they were pretty great.”
“Maybe you can try and figure out the recipe. I can’t imagine it’ll be hard with your refined palate. Though, before that you’ll have to get the taste of Isla’s fist out of your mouth, I imagine she won’t be happy with you until you explain everything. She never knew. And after that, we can pull a few pranks on her. Like the olden days.”
“Oh shit! Isla! I figured she probably didn’t survive that blast. . . shit. I might need you to carry me while running away, she might kill me dead dead!”
“We’ll see who ends up there first. You might be on your own for this ass whooping!-”
A large, jagged bone spikes up from beneath the island, fading shortly after, leaving a somewhat saddened looking Araineas
“Tingles… I’m so sorry, I never truly got to say goodbye.”
Araineas kneels down, opening her arms to hug Tingles
“Araineas. . . I’m so sorry. . . “
Tingles goes in for the hug, after which large splinters of bone jut out from the ground, impaling him in Araineas’ arms. Tallur steps back, holding his hand over his eyes, unable to watch his brother die once more, under his watch.
“I’m so sorry, Tingles… I hope only that you’ll find peace in the next life.”
“. . . is it over?”
The world fades to black… In Araineas’ phylactery, Tingles finds himself nearby a small pool of water emptied into by a small waterfall, where Isla Stormbringer and Deiah Stormfist sit fishing
“Looks like he’s finally here… Damn, never thought I’d look on one of my own like this.”
Deiah nods in agreement
“Wait wait wait! I can explain! First of all, the World Suit thing was an accident, we did not intend for that at all. Our bad. Second, I’m not actually evil! I’ve been working with Trip and Midor and everyone for some time, I sabotaged freeing the Beasts. But as you can see, I wasn’t successful in the end. I’m so sorry, I never wanted anything to go this way.”
A voice rings out from behind Tingles, as Stal steps around him
“He tells the truth. I know his lies when I see them, always had a tick.”
“Well I’ll be damned, if Stal says it, I’ll trust it. Even after we’re all dead you keep me on my toes. In that case, good work… Never thought I’d say that to you.”
“Thank you, Stal. I’m sorry I got you killed, none of us saw that coming to be fair haha. . . So, this is Araineas’ phylactery, huh. Where’s Tallur?”
“He’s yet to arrive. Even a place outside of time must operate in a certain order, it seems. Deiah survived the initial blast, but still beat both of us here. In the meantime, we regale. I’m sure you have plenty of stories.”
“Alright, alright, I guess I have some time before Tallur arrives. I’ve got a few stories packed in here. Do you guys remember Flint Jerell? Well this one time, he stole Midor’s hammer. . . “