153,151 Registered Players
Back to post list
Back a step
Replies:
Add reply:
Back a step
| Lerajie
Posts: 616 Status: Earl Karma: +145 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: Ler - A beginning | |||||
| Saddest is the story of those known as the Fallen; Once, glorious visions of form and energies, made fell by their own choice to question their creator. More sad still, are those of the Fallen who could not, or would not, choose sides; torn between their love for The Maker and that of their fellow Angels. They stood by as the battle for Heaven raged, and for their non-commitment, they too were cast down with the rebels. These neutral Fallen, punished not only with eternal exile from The Maker's grace, found themselves scattered about this physical plain across distance and time; some amongst the first creatures to swim the seas, some just finding their way about this world, some still yet to arrive. Such was The Maker's disappointment with those who'd refused to rally to his side, their punishment didn't end with banishment, and each was changed in form, such that they'd forever be strangers to each other by eye and tongue; the Maker's reasoning being that as a full third of his Original Host had rebelled, and a full third had remained neutral, they should never be able to join in force to threaten his domain. The Maker had charged a number of His Host to patrol the borders of His creation, to hunt down, turn back or destroy the void entities that made constant incursions on His territories. Lerajie, who's skills at concealment, ambush, tracking and marksmanship were surpassed only by The Maker's alone, was an automatic choice for this hunting party, and his ability to choose whether a weapon wound would heal or become lethally infected, made him a valued member. Lerajie felt no special pride in this, content merely with the fellowship and comradarie of the other Angels, and when not making jest and playing practical jokes on his fellows, Lerajie strived to craft a bow and set of arrows worthy of gift to The Maker; It is his works, pieces he deemed unfit, that the Cherubim are armed with to guard the inner gardens of Heaven with, their unerring and lethality ideal for the task. It was The Maker's special favourtism of His work, mankind, that seeded the jealousy in the hearts of a good number of Angels leading to the attempted coup and rebellion, yet Lerajie had no ill feeling towards these creatures, finding them inferior; their benighted, clumsy and brutish manner paling in comparrison to the grace and skill he, as did the others of The Host, possessed. When Lerajie first woke after being cast down, he found his once immaculate form changed to that of a human; his elegant wings removed, and his head and parts of his body covered in hair; and so he wept for the first time, ashamed at being reduced to a near animal. Wondering the forests alone, he came to learn the languages and ways of the animals that dwelled under the green canopy, spending his time learing the ways of this physical plain and further honing his tracking and hunting skills. Still, occupying his time as best he could, he was constantly tormented by loneliness at this forced solitary existance. Then, one winter, he came across the tracks of people, a hunting party following a pack of large animals. He watched from a distance, impressed by the coordinated effort and brave daring as they brought down one of the beasts even with their crude spears. He made his pressence known to them days later, killing their target for them from a great distance with a single arrow. Joining the family of these primitive peoples, he quickly learned their crude language and was able to instruct them on the construction and use of the bow and arrow, finding a new respect for mankind in their capacity to learn and adapt, and began to feel the comradarie so long denied him; making easy friends amongst them sharing with their humors even with their harsh and demanding existance. Lerajie's returned happiness proved short lived, as, being immortal, he came to know constant loss and sadness with the continual passing of his human friends. The extent to his punishment was realised, and so Lerajie imposed a second exile on himself to relieve just a little of his continuing torment, retreating once more to the darkest forests, with only the animals, sheltering trees and the altering weather and seasons as companions. He knew of the changes to the outside world through the smells on the wind and from the chatter of the birds and animals, the rare contact with outsiders was him stalking those brave enough to venture into what had become his home. It was the son of one of the Winds that suggested Lerajie look to the lands Westwards. The giant wolf thing was a regular face in the forests, and an uneasy friendship grew between them after Lerajie had healed severe magik soaked wounds to The Big Bad that would otherwise have left him crippled. The Big Bad made promise that Lerajie would find others of similar form and life span as he in the coastal town, reading the hermit-like Fallen yearned company... Lerajie opened his eyes, his blade in hand before waking proper at the sound that disturbed his sleep. Emerging from the shelter of the low branches of a great pine, he pulled his furs about himself against the chill weather that had blanketed the open patches of ground in a deep snow and decorated the trees drooping branches similarly. A full moon in a now clear night sky, gave the land a sharp monochromatic, silvered hue, and it took little time for Lerajie to find the recent tracks; humans pursued by a large mob of more humans and hounds. The doings and dealings of humans Lerajie had long ago decided non of his concern, and he had thought to just continue his journey West, but, something, some inner doubt made him set off in the direction the tracks led. Ahead of him, it was clear by the excitement in their voices and the celebratory whoops and cheers, that the men had finally caught up with their target. They stood encircling a group of a half dozen smaller, weaker humans, the dogs pulling hard on their leashes to get at them. Lerajie had his bow cocked and drawn, about to dethroat the man seeming, by the way he ordered the others about, the group leader. Just about to loose off the arrow, Lerajie was caused to pause, smiling at the familiar howl of his friend The Big Bad. The dogs all suddenly became frightened and subdued, as did the men, who began looking about themselves and to each other, suddenly not so cocky and triumphant, now afraid and unsure. Dogs broke free of their handler's grips, all of them bolting away in a group, yelping and whimpering as if all runts. Another deep, rumbling howl, this time seemingly much closer, had a good number of the men break and chase off after the hounds. Those that remained closed ranks, one raising his trident to stab at the nearest of the almost forgotten prey. Lerajie's arrow took the man in the side of his head, lifting and throwing the man several feet. Another man died, and a third arrow was in the air before the remaining men realised they were under attack. The not too distant sound of the hounds yelping and dying, plus a third man's body hitting the ground, helped the others decide to forget their quarry and the natural reaction to flee kicked in, and they too ran. Lerajie moved into the clearing, sweeping the area swiftly under the aim of his bow as he approached the figures crouched, trembling in the snow. He relaxed as he stood over them, slinging his bow over a shoulder and stashing the arrow in his quivver. One of the group was injured, a crossbow bolt wound passing through the calf. Lerajie rubbed his hands together then pressed the palms either side of the through-and-through hole, holding them in place for only seconds, then stepping away and rubbing snow in his hands to clean them of the crusted blood from the human. "That should do it, but I hear there's a great wizard in a nearby city that will fix it properly" They gave him their thanks, and he offered to lead them to the city, where he was already heading to. Taking his bearings from the stars, Lerajie led the way West, in his wake the humans moaned and bitched about these harsh unforgiving lands and their just as cruel peoples, praising their gods for sending them a mighty warrior to save them. He rolled his eyes to himself "Noobs"! Behind them the sounds of terrified and dying men quickly silenced, their end punctuated by a tremendous and victorious long howl, the trees rippling and shedding the snow from burdened branches at the sonic low for leagues in every direction. |
||||||
|
||||||
Replies:
Add reply: