It has been nearly a decade since I first awoke, and my new body has its benefits and concerns. I do not require food, but if I travel through rivers or prolonged rain I may need to add soil to myself to keep myself together. My father had left books about runic networks everywhere in his growing madness that I was able to bring with me on my mad flight. They contained just enough information to help me keep myself stable. Over time, between soil choices and a minor change to my runic network I was able to hide my true nature and appearance from others. My hair was now carefully nutured fiberglass threads formed with great care from tree resin and heating sand into glass threads. My eyes were flawless topaz cabochons, whose prismatic appearance had garnered me more than my fair share of admirers. A steady supply of granite was easily found and with my internal supply of sand it was relatively easy to keep my exterior smooth despite my journeys. The real trick was hiding the lack of natural heat in my body. Fortunately I had found a runic heating stone at an abandoned campsite some years ago and store it in my chest to help maintain the illusion.

To the outside world I am a sometimes oddly pale girl with sandy blonde hair and sparkling eyes. To the few trained in runic networks and the right equipment, I was a very well crafted statue pretending to be as alive as anyone else. Either didn't matter to me, as long as it kept me less than a passing thought. Not needing rest, food, or water made me an excellent bounty hunter and my new form had given me an advantage over my competition due to my ability to travel through and manipulate stone to my advantage. That meant nothing to any Runic Paladins, but to the world at large I was to be feared. I often presented myself as wearing black plate mail armor to justify my hard skin and would wear a travel cloak to explain my swift tracking. The cloak was a common commodity in this age of advancement. There was a runic network designed to collect moisture from the air and fill flasks and water skins as you traveled. There was one near the fringe of the cape designed to shoot a spark to create a campfire. There were even runes that allowed the shaping of stone into a shelter for safety. I went a bit further and got the model that also had a rune that could produce a current of air designed for drying your clothes if you crossed a river or for using as a rebreather if you found yourself needing to swim to safety. Centuries such practical techniques had simply been stored in the Grand Library of Sno with no one sharing it. While useful to normal travelers for survival, I used it to keep my body dry and to create an air of deniability for any time I used my abilities as an Ulur. I could simply say I had more dedication, will, or persistence than others. Or that an area just happened to have a sinkhole or quicksand. Nothing major. Nothing Flashy. Last thing I needed was a reputation. Not with the Paladins always looking for those who violate taboo.

I had no need for the normal survival goods, but I was still a woman of taste and class. I always appreciated a new gem to add to my "collection" and any runic stones I felt I could make use of were a nice utility. Some were good for lighting up darkened rooms. Others could be used to create fire or rinse something off by producing a stream of water. In the hands of a master runer you could even have stones made specifically for my job of choice. It was as I made my journey to one such storefront that I met the man who would soon become my partner in the events to come. His attire was oddly well maintained, something akin to red velvet with gold silk piping on the edges. Not a single speck of lint or dirt on his coat, which contrasted heavily with his wispy beard and greasy hair. His face carried a well practiced smile that somehow carried sincerity. His walk swayed with each step, but his boots clicked on the road in such a sure rhythm that I mistook him for a soldier. His appearance was so striking it broke my stride and drew my attention. Apparently this pause drew his attention as well, his eyes the color of the deepest seas locking with the gems I was using for mine from under the brim of his wide brimmed hat. His smile twitched into a smirk and I noticed him increase his stride. Realizing his intent to approach me, I waited for the inevitable pickup line that I was sure he was going to lay on me. Instead, he nodded his head slightly and teased, "Topaz, right? Well polished." Panic overtook my mind as I took a step back, wondering if I could break sightline with the crowd fast enough to escape him. He shook his head and offered his palm. Inspecting it, I saw burned grooves into his skin in the shape of a runic network. He laughed, "As one renegade to another, I would like to share a table with you. Just for good company, I assure you."

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I had heard about people like this before. How they learned runic networks varied from person to person but they too were taboo breakers. They would use all kinds of tricks, whether it was metal wires under the skin or tattoos, they would hide various runic networks on and inside their body allowing them to keep them hidden and covert. They would often claim to have true magic. To be special or chosen by the gods. The Runic Paladins would find them and remove these symbols, wires, and whatever other trickery they were using from their body, usually through fire. While these scars still operated as runic networks, they forever marked these charlatans for what they were. They were referred to as "Magicians" to mock their claims of being truly magical. A slur that had been thrown at me when being attacked on a mission before. Unfortunate that I couldn't return that bounty alive.

I don't know anymore why I agreed. I knew someone with this kind of style was going to draw attention. I knew that he was going to make my life more difficult. I knew that the longer I spent with him the shorter my life was going to become. But I looked into those eyes and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I saw someone who wasn't scared of me. I saw someone who knew what I was and accepted it effortlessly. Just like the man in the cloak when I was a child. No mixed messages like the Paladins. No games. Maybe even someone who understood what my life had become. In respect for his honesty, I gave my own honest reply, "Decent conversation is rare. I have a tavern I frequent. If you draw Paladins, I will make my escape."

He laughed and clapped my stone shoulder like I was an old friend, "Darling, if the Paladins arrive they will be too focused on harassing me to even glance at a beauty like you." He tapped his eye, "You would think the first time would have been enough, but some things are more important than a long life." He took off his hat and held it across his chest as he bowed dramatically and motioned me to take the lead. He was so unusual for me at the time. Someone who I couldn't understand because all his cards were on the table, but scattered as though they had been thrown to the wind and it was my job to collect them. It was easy at the time to believe his promise of making for a good distraction from my condition.