Backstory
Growing up in a village overgrown by nature, everyone was happy, cheerful, and loved connecting with the wildlife around them. Pymis owned a shop for making little gadgets that seemed useless to his people but to Pymis, his creations meant everything to him. You see, Pymis is different from the rest of the Satyr. He grew tired of the high energy, the constant celebrating, and when his own people didn’t appreciate his creations, he looked to live elsewhere. He just wanted a simple life, alone, where he can work on his gadgets, so he left home to find somewhere secluded to call home, so that he could finally be alone with his gadgets, because at the end of the day, who’s going to love his gadgets more than their own creator?
The End of The Quest
Pymis trudges toward Tessa’s place, muttering under his breath and adjusting his belt. “Best damn birthday I’ve ever had… Hell, probably the only one anyone’s bothered with in two hundred years. Gonna miss those fools,” he grumbles with a smirk, throwing one last wave over his shoulder before making his way past the old wizard’s tower. He stops at Tessa’s door and knocks—three solid thumps. No answer.
He narrows his eyes and leans in. “Figures. Well she never was one to answer ya at the door was she” he says, rolling his eyes as he pushes it open and steps inside.
Tessa glances up from her mirror, humming softly. Without missing a beat, she smirks. “Oh. You’re back? Didn’t even notice you were gone,” she says, her voice dripping with casual indifference.
Pymis chuckles, his face already turning red. “Heh… Thank ya kindly, darlin’. You’ll always be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Tessa doesn’t even blink. “Oh, I know. Glad you noticed.” She tilts her head thoughtfully, giving him a once-over. “You were the one with the banjo, right? That was fun.”
Pymis places his hands on his hips, grinning ear to ear. “Banjo? Oh, it’s much more than that, sweetheart. But I’ll take the compliment. And yeah, I’m stickin’ around—for a bit, anyway. Long as you don’t mind my lil’ buddy Wimpersnack here,” he says, pulling a tiny clockwork creature from his pocket and holding it up proudly. “Kind of a package deal, ya see.”
Tessa gives him a bright smile, though her eyes already wander back to her reflection. “Hmm… well, it would be a shame to lose a musician and his… snack thing. Go on, take a seat.”
“Well, now that’s an offer no man in his right mind would refuse,” Pymis says as he plops down beside her, folding his arms behind his head. “Y’know, three hundred years is a long time to spend mostly talkin’ to yourself and tin toys. Thought I liked it that way. But those folks—those friends—they reminded me that maybe the world ain’t such a bad place after all. Maybe there’s room for a crusty old satyr like me to love somethin’ more than gadgets.” He pauses, his grin fading for a second. “Still… keepin’ the gadgets, though. Obviously.”
He leans back, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Guess I’ll hang around until the world needs me again. Don’t worry—when trouble comes knockin’, me and Wimpersnack’ll be ready.”