Kamara

Backstory
Kamara lived for years in the fringe of Davros, an overcrowded and exhausted world for any Yuan-Ti nomad. He kept to himself to its furthest edges, hoping to have better insight into what may lay ‘beyond’, from there.

In Kamara’s treks, always solo, he routinely moved through the multitude of Davros races and cultures. An unvoiced compulsion drove Kamara to seek out old tomes, scrolls and tales as equally fringe as the location if its acquisition.

Since he could remember as a newspawn a cold ember glowed within. Kamara could read any language but contributed to the cannons of None. He had developed something so much more. Personal and unique to his tribe of one- Kamara instead created his own pictoral language, often left as etchings in locations of note past traveled. Never of the mundane, these etchings always marked points along the journey of Kamara’s life- new knowledge obtained, psychic bridges crossed, and the name of any fallen enemy before him.

Kamara continued on passed them all, never one to linger when of course there was More. Pictorial etchings left as runic mile-markers in his mind, he suspected they contributed to the focusing of a potent resource swelling inside. Kamara had swam in the eddies of his own pscionic flow, but at this moment he could now feel his mind-dam ready to burst.(edited)

He had to get to where his thoughts drove him. This only made Kamara smile. With a flashing blink through clear eyelids Kamara furtively began crafting another rune, etching his minds vision into the material plane.

Despite how varied his literary sources had been over time, a common stitch in them all pointed directly ahead of him towards an elevated vista plain of collective knowledge distinct from sensory perception, memory and imagination:  A Nousphere. A sphere of the thought that indeed wraps around the biosphere, a thinking layer of all the races, a mental sheath around the physical world as he and everyone he knew knew it.

Kamara had his Moment of Vision. He understood that Understanding had created Order, but that Understanding was also a recipient of Order. Knowledge to him became canonized as an unbegotten fire that can be fed and can grow, and he had gotten the keys to the furnace.

Clarity came as he looked upon the Center for Science and Magic annual lottery flyer nailed to an unremarkable wooden post in an unremarkable old frontier town. This is why he was here. This is why he had to go there.

On The Ship
Kamara initially spent much of his voyage in the front landing room, finding the fore vessel to be the closest he could get to where they were going. A suitable choice to settle and speculate on the destination, and on the awakening of his mind force. Little time passed from departure when Kamara rapturously found that he could lightly probe beyond the vessel’s exterior with his interior thoughts. Naturally he took attempt to hone his mental fidelity. But in a stark break from previous habit Kamara gradually started started to spent his time circulating idly amongst his fellow travelers.

Why did he do this? Yuan-ti historically divorced their emotion from cold intellectual pursuit, but Kamara had habitually ignored doctrine without pause when he could see through it as false. This made it all the sweeter for him to had once taken the furthest territories as his intelligence assignment, as it separated him from the pervasively insufferable caste system if his serpentine brethren and the vast majority who blindly let themselves be yoked to it.

In all the pass-through towns he past through Kamara kept interactions brief. Obtaining arrangements for food lodging or knowledge solely and directly, time was better spent in travel or the other transit, transmission of knowledge from source to himself. It’s not that he stood out necessarily, his microfine reticulated scales were humanistic enough in their wash of white gold and black. It was usually his clear eyelids that drew unwanted attention, drawing away his time available for transit and other meaningful tasks. Thankfully some dull monk had come up with hooded robes for his milieu quite a time back so Kamara readily adopted them for his traveling operation, and oh what could he say it had stuck for a quite a time since those days. Quite a time indeed.

Quite conveniently this vessel was hurtling toward their destination, leaving one facet of transit accomplished for the moment. Perhaps it was because of the years spent secretly spurning the laws of his kind that Kamara allowed himself to interact with the others. Those his people considered meat. Verily, Kamara still spent plethoras of time in the launch room staring at the wall according to the crew. Despite materially still his mind flew as synapsis snapped and popped unobserved, slowly loosening the spigots of connected knowledge: the Nousphere. The great awning potential. Kamara keenly felt foremost certain that the Nousphere wasn’t going anywhere, so mind studies could incrementally more be put on hold for chatter amongst the erstwhile ships crew, a cast of characters he somewhat grew to knew.