Post by kriggud on Apr 12, 2008 23:49:03 GMT -5
A long arse freaking time ago in a town called Kickapoo.... oh wait. wrong story.
I was a boy living in the mountains north of The Wall. My family and my village were all that I knew. My father taught me the ways of the sword, and taught me that the greatest joy in life was the kill. You see, my people worshiped an old god, whose name was Kriggud, god of war and slaughter, who ate his enemy's hearts to gain their strength. My people followed His code of war, but were not cannibals. We had wandered away from that belief more than a hundred years ago.
I can remember the day, it was cold, and the sun had not yet risen. I woke to the sounds of screams. Raiders! They came while we slept. My father woke me, handed me his longsword and told me to run into the woods. He told me that as long as one of our people lived, we had a future. Then he picked up his maul from beside the fire pit, and ran out of the house. I ran to the woods, hearing the screams of my people. I climbed a tree and it was there that I saw my father fall. Bleeding in a dozen places, swinging his maul and breaking bones beneath flesh, he fell to a sword thrust in his back.
I waited for the raiders to leave, then I ran back into my village. I saw the carnage that was before me, and went mad with rage. I drew my fathers sword across my hand, and made a blood vow to avenge him and my people. I hunted the raiders for two weeks, finally catching them in a clearing. The carnage was unspeakable. I fought as no boy has ever fought, rending flesh from bones, and taking heads off with a single slash. when they were all dead, I looked at my father's blade. On the blade were inscribed runes of the name of the war-god, Kriggud. I felt a surge of power, and my memories began to fade, until all that was left was the slaughter and carnage. I even forgot my own name. I raised the sword to the sky, and cried, "KRIIIIGGGUUUD!!
The old ones had spoken of it, when a man becomes so engulfed in violence, that he loses his mind and becomes the knew incarnation of the war-god. Such men are never meant for happiness, only battle. As I looked around me, I saw the bodies and began to hunger. It seems that I not only received a lust for battle, but a hunger for flesh as well. I ate them, I ate their hearts, their eyes, their livers, their ears. These men would wander the afterlife torn and deformed.
For the next five years, I began to wander from village to village, slaughtering everyone, and then eating my fill. I had become the thing that had driven me to madness. Then, when I was 19 years old, my life changed.
I had just finished the slaughter of yet another village, and was preparing to take my gruesome meal, when I was surrounded by a group of men in black cloaks. I stood and took a slash and their leader. He disarmed me with relative ease. As he laid his sword across my neck, he said, "Come with us, creature, and serve on the Wall or die."
As the newest incarnation of the war-god, I could not turn down a chance to learn from this man. The words came slowly to my tongue. "I will serve. For now."
And so I became a brother of the Night's Watch. And I was befriended by a cleric named Thom Devlin. Devlin taught me the ways of the shield, and mace. He also tried to tell me that my cannibalism was wrong. I agreed to stop while I was on the Wall.
The commander, whose name was Martus, placed me with the rangers, the fighting force of the Watch. My lieutenant was wildling-born, like myself. His name was Skeith. For a time, I fought and lived with the Watch. But it was not to be.
On one ranging, Skeith and I were confronted by a band of wildlings. We fought, and I cut the head from the chieftan. His blood sprayed into my mouth, and my hunger rose. I fought to control it as Devlin had taught me, but a voice in my head said, "You can't deny it. It's in your blood." I managed to contain myself, and we departed, little knowing there were eyes upon us. But my change, my regression, had begun.
Skeith had changed as well. His moods were becoming darker, and he seemed more willing to kill than talk. I decided to leave the watch when I saw him draw steel on one of our brothers, the cleric Thom Devlin.
As I was walking across the training yard that night. Two figures barred my way. It was Thom, and Martus. They asked me what my intentions were. I told them I was going to leave, and seek my life elsewhere. Martus wished me good luck, and Thom bade me remember what he taught me. I bid them farewell, and left the Night's Watch.
And so I journeyed south, further into the realm of Dominion. On my way, I encountered a woman who entranced me. She went by many names, but I knew her as Mehran. We shared lives for a time, during which, I heard of the legendary fighting force known as Myrkridia. I set out to find these warriors, and learn from them if I could.
I met them on the field of battle. I witnessed the brute force of the Dwarf Sir Kaine Smaugwater, the speed of Sir Orin, the agility of Lucifer, and the sheer stopping power of Slayer. It was through these four men that I would be given a chance to join this army, this Myrkridian Infantry. I met with their captain, Sir Gabriel, and was told to cut my hair and shave my beard, and pick up shield and sword in defense of the Dominion Nobility. And this I did for a time, but as always, my wildling blood won out, and I was once again plagued by wanderlust.
I told Sir Gabriel that the life of a soldier was not for me, that I was meant to wander and choose my own battles. I set of back to the north, to my home. But as I began my journey, Mehran's true intentions were revealed. That chieftan that I had slain so long ago, was her father. Her getting close to me, sharing my food and my bed, was only to lull me into a false sense of trust. She drugged my food, and when I awoke, I was chained to the inner hull of a ship, bound across the Narrow Sea to the fighting pits of Mareen. I'm told I fetched a good price, and must now earn my freedom by repaying my price. And so here I fight, waiting for the day I will be set free. Once I breath the free air again, then there will be hell to pay.
I was a boy living in the mountains north of The Wall. My family and my village were all that I knew. My father taught me the ways of the sword, and taught me that the greatest joy in life was the kill. You see, my people worshiped an old god, whose name was Kriggud, god of war and slaughter, who ate his enemy's hearts to gain their strength. My people followed His code of war, but were not cannibals. We had wandered away from that belief more than a hundred years ago.
I can remember the day, it was cold, and the sun had not yet risen. I woke to the sounds of screams. Raiders! They came while we slept. My father woke me, handed me his longsword and told me to run into the woods. He told me that as long as one of our people lived, we had a future. Then he picked up his maul from beside the fire pit, and ran out of the house. I ran to the woods, hearing the screams of my people. I climbed a tree and it was there that I saw my father fall. Bleeding in a dozen places, swinging his maul and breaking bones beneath flesh, he fell to a sword thrust in his back.
I waited for the raiders to leave, then I ran back into my village. I saw the carnage that was before me, and went mad with rage. I drew my fathers sword across my hand, and made a blood vow to avenge him and my people. I hunted the raiders for two weeks, finally catching them in a clearing. The carnage was unspeakable. I fought as no boy has ever fought, rending flesh from bones, and taking heads off with a single slash. when they were all dead, I looked at my father's blade. On the blade were inscribed runes of the name of the war-god, Kriggud. I felt a surge of power, and my memories began to fade, until all that was left was the slaughter and carnage. I even forgot my own name. I raised the sword to the sky, and cried, "KRIIIIGGGUUUD!!
The old ones had spoken of it, when a man becomes so engulfed in violence, that he loses his mind and becomes the knew incarnation of the war-god. Such men are never meant for happiness, only battle. As I looked around me, I saw the bodies and began to hunger. It seems that I not only received a lust for battle, but a hunger for flesh as well. I ate them, I ate their hearts, their eyes, their livers, their ears. These men would wander the afterlife torn and deformed.
For the next five years, I began to wander from village to village, slaughtering everyone, and then eating my fill. I had become the thing that had driven me to madness. Then, when I was 19 years old, my life changed.
I had just finished the slaughter of yet another village, and was preparing to take my gruesome meal, when I was surrounded by a group of men in black cloaks. I stood and took a slash and their leader. He disarmed me with relative ease. As he laid his sword across my neck, he said, "Come with us, creature, and serve on the Wall or die."
As the newest incarnation of the war-god, I could not turn down a chance to learn from this man. The words came slowly to my tongue. "I will serve. For now."
And so I became a brother of the Night's Watch. And I was befriended by a cleric named Thom Devlin. Devlin taught me the ways of the shield, and mace. He also tried to tell me that my cannibalism was wrong. I agreed to stop while I was on the Wall.
The commander, whose name was Martus, placed me with the rangers, the fighting force of the Watch. My lieutenant was wildling-born, like myself. His name was Skeith. For a time, I fought and lived with the Watch. But it was not to be.
On one ranging, Skeith and I were confronted by a band of wildlings. We fought, and I cut the head from the chieftan. His blood sprayed into my mouth, and my hunger rose. I fought to control it as Devlin had taught me, but a voice in my head said, "You can't deny it. It's in your blood." I managed to contain myself, and we departed, little knowing there were eyes upon us. But my change, my regression, had begun.
Skeith had changed as well. His moods were becoming darker, and he seemed more willing to kill than talk. I decided to leave the watch when I saw him draw steel on one of our brothers, the cleric Thom Devlin.
As I was walking across the training yard that night. Two figures barred my way. It was Thom, and Martus. They asked me what my intentions were. I told them I was going to leave, and seek my life elsewhere. Martus wished me good luck, and Thom bade me remember what he taught me. I bid them farewell, and left the Night's Watch.
And so I journeyed south, further into the realm of Dominion. On my way, I encountered a woman who entranced me. She went by many names, but I knew her as Mehran. We shared lives for a time, during which, I heard of the legendary fighting force known as Myrkridia. I set out to find these warriors, and learn from them if I could.
I met them on the field of battle. I witnessed the brute force of the Dwarf Sir Kaine Smaugwater, the speed of Sir Orin, the agility of Lucifer, and the sheer stopping power of Slayer. It was through these four men that I would be given a chance to join this army, this Myrkridian Infantry. I met with their captain, Sir Gabriel, and was told to cut my hair and shave my beard, and pick up shield and sword in defense of the Dominion Nobility. And this I did for a time, but as always, my wildling blood won out, and I was once again plagued by wanderlust.
I told Sir Gabriel that the life of a soldier was not for me, that I was meant to wander and choose my own battles. I set of back to the north, to my home. But as I began my journey, Mehran's true intentions were revealed. That chieftan that I had slain so long ago, was her father. Her getting close to me, sharing my food and my bed, was only to lull me into a false sense of trust. She drugged my food, and when I awoke, I was chained to the inner hull of a ship, bound across the Narrow Sea to the fighting pits of Mareen. I'm told I fetched a good price, and must now earn my freedom by repaying my price. And so here I fight, waiting for the day I will be set free. Once I breath the free air again, then there will be hell to pay.