Garamond Sandspitter aka DJ Daft aka The Daft Monk
Garamond had a troubled childhood, it didn't seem to him that society as a whole really grasped how easy it could be. Instead everyone was preoccupied with their own thoughts and ego driven greed. It disturbed him so greatly he attempted several times to end his life. The last time was nearly successful, if not for a blind man carrying a staff and wearing a bell on his foot. Groping, he stopped the bleeding. Garamond awoke confused at the image of blind, bandaged eyes and loose robes. The ascetic seemed aloof to the turmoil around him. Garamond followed the blind man, who he came to understand was part of a monastic order. In every situation the blind man was unflappable and seemed to be made of patience. Garamond stayed with the blind man on his pilgrimmage and eventually returned to the monestary with him. The years were hard and he had quite a length of time to come to terms that the problems of society were not his problems alone. While on his own pilgrimmage, Garamond was once again plunged into the turmoil of society at large. By chance he heard what was to him a cacophonus rumble. It had a rhythum, and he investigated a bowl shaped valley. A sort of natural ampitheatre, a large group of people were gathered. At one side was a stage where one person pushed and pulled at a console. At their touch the sound changed pitch and speed. The assembled group seemed to be dancing and bobbing in time with the thumping vibrations the person on the stage was making. Garamond didn't know quite what to make of it, but he watched, enraptured. The delight on the faces of the dancers, the way they moved around each other and helped each other up when they fell was a mosiac to him. He closed his eyes and listened to the thump, and his heart seemed to beat with it. He walked in, and no one stopped him. They just moved aside so he had space, and gave nods of recognition. He began to dance with them. In his time with the dancers he learned about community, and that there were people that would set aside that greedy part of themselves. Life was working together and caring for one another and Garamond found a place for himself there. But he wondered if music could be brought to other places, to unify people. In discussions with others it became clear there was a misceivious streak in the dancers, and while there was no leader, there was the Deckmaster. A wild idea came to Garamond and he asked to try the Deck. Anyone was welcome to make the music, but not everyone made music that energized the dancers. Those that did shared the Deck. Garamond reached for the controls, one of the more experienced Deckmasters at his side showing him the ins and out and what everything did. The two of them got the dancers moving. Garamond was hooked. He closed his eyes and looked for that spark deep inside himself and knew that all of life was rhytum and thump. The from the heart, how to run, and it was something his martial masters used to teach. He opened his eyes and triggered off an ethereal wave while subtly withdrawing the bass. The dancers seemed to float. He channeled that student mind and for hours lead the dancers on a journey that soared, ground and throbbed. He'd pull them higher and higher before letting them plummet and catching them once more. Finally, his fingers sore, he looked back at the other Deckmasters and there were none, they were in the crowd with bliss on their faces. Garamond knew then, that he needed to bring this craft to more people. Finally, the exhausted dancers left to sleep off the trip he sent them on. He just collapsed at the Deck. He dreamed of small versions of what they'd just done, a street musician with dancers hiding in the crowd. Over the years Garamond led ever larger troupes of dancers with his portable Deck through the settlements. He would only play for a short time, with the dancers appearing to be part of the crowd. They would entice the crowd to join in. At the end, he'd say a few words about selfless community and compassion. The arrival of "The Daft Monk" would always be an exciting event for the people of a settlement. Many took his messages to heart and new communities gathered, away from those that were continuing the collapse. His words of togetherness, and working together nucleated new groups. While the old settlements stagnated and fell to ruin, the groups which left thrived. One of which was Atlaport, where years after his death, his Deck remains on display in the Civic Center. It is said that once a year, something activates the Deck and it plays that same etherial, uplifting music for a few seconds before becoming inert again.