Ezekiel101
I think I might like it here
I made this story to explain my character, but it's way too long. Geo was just a figment, although Segmon I hope might get recognized someday. Hope you enjoy this.
Once, in a land far from Altera, there was small dwarfish village called Smokestone. They were famous for their smiths, who had found a way to create armor greater than any hide or steel would ever be, for it was forged of obsidian in the heat of Mt. Arthana, a nearby volcano, which encircled and protected the town. Townsfolk relied on the obsidian trade for everything, and great luxury and decadence set in. Fearful of losing the wealth of their obsidian, their smelting techniques stayed a close bound secret, only passing from father to son. It was here that Zebediah was brought into the world.
Born to the head smith Brogden Chainbeard and his wife Ogda, Zebediah was troublesome from the start. Whenever he was due for lessons at the forge, he seemed to disappear. It was only on the following morning that Zebediah would show up, asleep in his bed. One day, his father, in a fit of drunken rage, searched the town from top to bottom. It was at the top of Geos' temple, a building found in all dwarf villages of the area, that Brogden found him. Grabbing him by his young dwarfish beard, Brogden dragged him into the forge, where he threw Zebediah in a chair. "Today I'll show ye what thy calling is, boy!" as he opened the forge canals, filling his armor casts with the finest molten bedrock. As the dwarf man hammered at the armor, Zebediah began to convulse violently, and this was the first of many fits that were to come.
Bedridden by his ridiculously overbearing mother, Zebediah was able to do very little during the day. Other children mocked him from the street window, throwing all manner of things at him. Whenever his parents' harsh voices filled the house with drunken arguments, he would pass into the twilit world of unconsciousness, where strange voices and languages would fill his head. During nighttime though, he was able to sneak outside easily. Knowing his punishment if caught, Zebediah quickly became a master of stealth, and many sentries at night had elaborate, harmless tricks played in the midnight hours. One morning when he was sneaking back home, the road rose up like a pebble hitting water, and, forming a human shape, stepped out of an alley. Alarmed, the child tried to run, but great statues of iron appeared behind him and grabbed him, forced him to his knees, and in an unholy chorus, "Kneel before the Earth God Geo!!" As Zebediah examined the road that was a man, dread, like a cold stone, sat in his gut. And Geo said, In a gravelly, harsh voice, "Zebediah Elderson, give me one reason not to drag this pathetic village back to the pit I brought your race from!!" Confused at this undeserved threat to his home, Zebediah replied shakily, "Sir, I know not why we deserve this wrath." Geo suddenly became like diamond, with redstone pulses flowing where his veins should be, and sitting on a throne of finest gold and lapis stone, He bellowed: "Then I shall tell you of your ancestors and their evil."
Many generations before Smokestone was built, your ancestors were carnival people, going from place to place, tricking and stealing any gold they could find. One day, they decided to stay in one of my caves, and dared to take my gems for themselves. The humans tried to warn your ancestors, but they came along too, for my riches corrupt any who even think of them. I appeared to them and, shall we say, asked them politely to give the gems back. Instead, they offered me mead, and a good show if I spared them. In my idiocy, I gave them mercy, and in that drunken stupor which befalls even gods, I foolishly gave them the secrets of bedrock. As they left, and I sobered, my horror dawned anew, and in a fit of rage, I hunted down and killed all of the stupid human carnies accompanying your ancestors. Their dwarven talents for hiding in my domain saved them however, and that was a gift I could not revoke. So for my conscience, I gave your race another gift: the overwhelming lust towards my golden tokens and anything valuable that comes from a mine. Few can withstand this curse except the most stalwart of heart. Thus, I bided my time, waiting for your family's greed to build Smokestone, which is now big enough that I can feel it itch on the skin of my Earth. This town, and it's secrets, must be buried under my iron fist. The God of Life, however wanted me to "negotiate" with you midgets. I figured that since you are chiefson, you will count. So beg, Zebediah, I haven't laughed for a long time.
Zebediah could not believe this. His world destroyed? All his friends and family? "If you leave now, and do not, under any circumstances, look back, then your world will be spared. I promise." Geo told him, the pits of his eyes flashing with an emerald green. "Just go now, and I will spare them all."
"Agreed," Zebediah said, hoping that the golem kept his word. "You must leave now, before the sun rises." Geo told him, with a ruby glare in his eye.
Quietly weeping to himself, Zebediah began to walk away from his life. He kept thinking to himself about his doubting Geo's word, and how perhaps, he could look back one more time on his old life. At the top of a hill overlooking Smokestone, he thought he could sneak one last look at it. As the first rays of the sun broke over his back, Mt. Arthana erupted in a great explosion. As he watched in horror, a huge storm of ash and molten stone barreled towards his home and, in a grey brown cloud, wiped his entire life off the map. A face seemed to form from the cloud as it settled over his dead family and a horrendous laugh resonated from the volcano like an explosion. Zebediah felt the now familiar shadow of a fit closing in, and crumpled to the ground, his tears mixing in the dirt and ash.
This vision was different however. Instead of the usually fuzzy and colorful blotches, Zebediah was able to see everything clearly, at least whatever wasn't swathed in darkness. Suddenly, a figure floated out of the mists. Zebediah could see that it was a skeleton, but it was not like those that prowled the streets at night. It sat crosslegged, as if meditating, and had four arms, when most skeletons had only one or two. Each arm held an item in its hand: the upper right hand held a knife, gilded with gold and an amethyst pommel, the lower right hand held an open book, with black pages and silver lettering, the lower left hand held a bow, darker than pitch soaked pine and obsidian inlaid the length of the weapon, the upper hand seemed to be aflame, but it was a purple flame, and shadows seemed to grow stronger by the flames. Suddenly a voice, rattling and ancient, sighed his name, "You should not be troubled. Your family is in a better place now." Zebediah grew angry, but he knew not if this creature was like Geo, and would do him in like his family. It seemed calm, and he felt a serenity emanating from the bones. "Your anger is unjustified, aim it not at me, but at the being who killed them," it told him, with a voice that seemed tired and distant. Curiosity overcame the pangs of hate, and Zebediah wanted to know how the skeleton knew all that had transpired, but before he could ask the skeleton stopped him: "I know of these things because it is my business to know. I am Segmon, the god of skeletons and shadows. You are Zebediah, the last child of a city that has been worshipping me for centuries." Zebediah was confused, "But no one ever told me about you. I've never seen any rituals performed for you."
"That is because my rituals are secrecy and hiding. No child would know of them until they reach the age of wisdom, when the worries of the world are thrust upon them. No monk slays demons in my name, and no paladin rallies his troops to my banner. Even some of my prayers are unknown to their owners, made in the corners of their souls. You are forgotten. Anyone who knows of your existence is dead, and I am your patron unless you choose otherwise. I can help you, but your journeys will be tedious and vast. You will learn things no being in this land can imagine, and go places only dreamed. If you do not wish to go, I understand, and wish you the best of luck. But if you do, then follow the setting sun, and you will know my protection."
"What can you give me, that I might avenge this evil? I must not let it go unpunished!"
"You will awake long after this tragedy. No memories will haunt you of this day. You will fight for the just causes that you find. No race will recognize you as their own.
"Do you truly wish my gift upon you? For the price is greater than you know."
"Anything! Name it and I shall give to you!"
"I shall make you a new form, in my element. Now sleep, my reaper...."
The man awoke, his vision clouded. A dark, shadow seemed to be over everything. He felt a dark hood over his eyes. His hands seemed to be nothing but bones, and his body dark. A name kept throbbing in his head. Ezekiel. Ezekiel. It felt ancient, yet appropriate. As Ezekiel began to walk, he noticed a smoking crater nearby, with the remnants of buildings and a few broken tools. He bowed his head to the unknown dead there, and continued on his new journey.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I know it was long and probably boring, but it means the world to me that you finished it. please give opinion on this. Characteristics: http://hollowworld.co.uk/index.php?threads/ezekiel.7848/
Once, in a land far from Altera, there was small dwarfish village called Smokestone. They were famous for their smiths, who had found a way to create armor greater than any hide or steel would ever be, for it was forged of obsidian in the heat of Mt. Arthana, a nearby volcano, which encircled and protected the town. Townsfolk relied on the obsidian trade for everything, and great luxury and decadence set in. Fearful of losing the wealth of their obsidian, their smelting techniques stayed a close bound secret, only passing from father to son. It was here that Zebediah was brought into the world.
Born to the head smith Brogden Chainbeard and his wife Ogda, Zebediah was troublesome from the start. Whenever he was due for lessons at the forge, he seemed to disappear. It was only on the following morning that Zebediah would show up, asleep in his bed. One day, his father, in a fit of drunken rage, searched the town from top to bottom. It was at the top of Geos' temple, a building found in all dwarf villages of the area, that Brogden found him. Grabbing him by his young dwarfish beard, Brogden dragged him into the forge, where he threw Zebediah in a chair. "Today I'll show ye what thy calling is, boy!" as he opened the forge canals, filling his armor casts with the finest molten bedrock. As the dwarf man hammered at the armor, Zebediah began to convulse violently, and this was the first of many fits that were to come.
Bedridden by his ridiculously overbearing mother, Zebediah was able to do very little during the day. Other children mocked him from the street window, throwing all manner of things at him. Whenever his parents' harsh voices filled the house with drunken arguments, he would pass into the twilit world of unconsciousness, where strange voices and languages would fill his head. During nighttime though, he was able to sneak outside easily. Knowing his punishment if caught, Zebediah quickly became a master of stealth, and many sentries at night had elaborate, harmless tricks played in the midnight hours. One morning when he was sneaking back home, the road rose up like a pebble hitting water, and, forming a human shape, stepped out of an alley. Alarmed, the child tried to run, but great statues of iron appeared behind him and grabbed him, forced him to his knees, and in an unholy chorus, "Kneel before the Earth God Geo!!" As Zebediah examined the road that was a man, dread, like a cold stone, sat in his gut. And Geo said, In a gravelly, harsh voice, "Zebediah Elderson, give me one reason not to drag this pathetic village back to the pit I brought your race from!!" Confused at this undeserved threat to his home, Zebediah replied shakily, "Sir, I know not why we deserve this wrath." Geo suddenly became like diamond, with redstone pulses flowing where his veins should be, and sitting on a throne of finest gold and lapis stone, He bellowed: "Then I shall tell you of your ancestors and their evil."
Many generations before Smokestone was built, your ancestors were carnival people, going from place to place, tricking and stealing any gold they could find. One day, they decided to stay in one of my caves, and dared to take my gems for themselves. The humans tried to warn your ancestors, but they came along too, for my riches corrupt any who even think of them. I appeared to them and, shall we say, asked them politely to give the gems back. Instead, they offered me mead, and a good show if I spared them. In my idiocy, I gave them mercy, and in that drunken stupor which befalls even gods, I foolishly gave them the secrets of bedrock. As they left, and I sobered, my horror dawned anew, and in a fit of rage, I hunted down and killed all of the stupid human carnies accompanying your ancestors. Their dwarven talents for hiding in my domain saved them however, and that was a gift I could not revoke. So for my conscience, I gave your race another gift: the overwhelming lust towards my golden tokens and anything valuable that comes from a mine. Few can withstand this curse except the most stalwart of heart. Thus, I bided my time, waiting for your family's greed to build Smokestone, which is now big enough that I can feel it itch on the skin of my Earth. This town, and it's secrets, must be buried under my iron fist. The God of Life, however wanted me to "negotiate" with you midgets. I figured that since you are chiefson, you will count. So beg, Zebediah, I haven't laughed for a long time.
Zebediah could not believe this. His world destroyed? All his friends and family? "If you leave now, and do not, under any circumstances, look back, then your world will be spared. I promise." Geo told him, the pits of his eyes flashing with an emerald green. "Just go now, and I will spare them all."
"Agreed," Zebediah said, hoping that the golem kept his word. "You must leave now, before the sun rises." Geo told him, with a ruby glare in his eye.
Quietly weeping to himself, Zebediah began to walk away from his life. He kept thinking to himself about his doubting Geo's word, and how perhaps, he could look back one more time on his old life. At the top of a hill overlooking Smokestone, he thought he could sneak one last look at it. As the first rays of the sun broke over his back, Mt. Arthana erupted in a great explosion. As he watched in horror, a huge storm of ash and molten stone barreled towards his home and, in a grey brown cloud, wiped his entire life off the map. A face seemed to form from the cloud as it settled over his dead family and a horrendous laugh resonated from the volcano like an explosion. Zebediah felt the now familiar shadow of a fit closing in, and crumpled to the ground, his tears mixing in the dirt and ash.
This vision was different however. Instead of the usually fuzzy and colorful blotches, Zebediah was able to see everything clearly, at least whatever wasn't swathed in darkness. Suddenly, a figure floated out of the mists. Zebediah could see that it was a skeleton, but it was not like those that prowled the streets at night. It sat crosslegged, as if meditating, and had four arms, when most skeletons had only one or two. Each arm held an item in its hand: the upper right hand held a knife, gilded with gold and an amethyst pommel, the lower right hand held an open book, with black pages and silver lettering, the lower left hand held a bow, darker than pitch soaked pine and obsidian inlaid the length of the weapon, the upper hand seemed to be aflame, but it was a purple flame, and shadows seemed to grow stronger by the flames. Suddenly a voice, rattling and ancient, sighed his name, "You should not be troubled. Your family is in a better place now." Zebediah grew angry, but he knew not if this creature was like Geo, and would do him in like his family. It seemed calm, and he felt a serenity emanating from the bones. "Your anger is unjustified, aim it not at me, but at the being who killed them," it told him, with a voice that seemed tired and distant. Curiosity overcame the pangs of hate, and Zebediah wanted to know how the skeleton knew all that had transpired, but before he could ask the skeleton stopped him: "I know of these things because it is my business to know. I am Segmon, the god of skeletons and shadows. You are Zebediah, the last child of a city that has been worshipping me for centuries." Zebediah was confused, "But no one ever told me about you. I've never seen any rituals performed for you."
"That is because my rituals are secrecy and hiding. No child would know of them until they reach the age of wisdom, when the worries of the world are thrust upon them. No monk slays demons in my name, and no paladin rallies his troops to my banner. Even some of my prayers are unknown to their owners, made in the corners of their souls. You are forgotten. Anyone who knows of your existence is dead, and I am your patron unless you choose otherwise. I can help you, but your journeys will be tedious and vast. You will learn things no being in this land can imagine, and go places only dreamed. If you do not wish to go, I understand, and wish you the best of luck. But if you do, then follow the setting sun, and you will know my protection."
"What can you give me, that I might avenge this evil? I must not let it go unpunished!"
"You will awake long after this tragedy. No memories will haunt you of this day. You will fight for the just causes that you find. No race will recognize you as their own.
"Do you truly wish my gift upon you? For the price is greater than you know."
"Anything! Name it and I shall give to you!"
"I shall make you a new form, in my element. Now sleep, my reaper...."
The man awoke, his vision clouded. A dark, shadow seemed to be over everything. He felt a dark hood over his eyes. His hands seemed to be nothing but bones, and his body dark. A name kept throbbing in his head. Ezekiel. Ezekiel. It felt ancient, yet appropriate. As Ezekiel began to walk, he noticed a smoking crater nearby, with the remnants of buildings and a few broken tools. He bowed his head to the unknown dead there, and continued on his new journey.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I know it was long and probably boring, but it means the world to me that you finished it. please give opinion on this. Characteristics: http://hollowworld.co.uk/index.php?threads/ezekiel.7848/
