Journey to Bulldrek

[TLM]

Journey to Bulldrek

These are healthy, ordered civilized lands. Forests and farms surround meticulously clean and tidy cities that gleam in the sun like jewels. The citizens are, apparently, happy and content going about their daily business; talking, shopping, making merry, and discussing the hot topic du jour. Efficiency is prized, as is civility and law and order. Of course, one mans law is another mans tyranny.

He had grown tired of the cities and their constant, forced politeness. People never had any heat, no passion in their oratory and debate. Because it was politeness enforced by iron fists in no gloves at all, unless the gloves happened to be studded. So they had evicted him, for speaking exactly what was on his mind, one too many times within earshot (and someone was always listening). He had defied them, then. He had cursed them all, calling them on their lies and their sanctimonious preaching, revealing them for the dictators they were. As they banished him, he had laughed long and bitterly.

Now he was long past the last of the great cities, beyond even the woods and their neatly maintained paths, far in the mountains. His robes were travelworn, and torn in many places, but he still held his head high. Adversity was not unknown to him, and so he struggled on, over sharp jagged rocks and treacherous mountain trails. He would not give up. They would not have the satisfaction.

As he started his descent, his robe tore completely, caught on a shard of obsidian rock that jutted out from the massif he was scaling. He managed to salvage enough to make himself a makeshift cloak. The Desert of Disconnection was next, he knew. Little water, and no food. He might survive, if he was lucky enough to stumble onto an oasis, or if he came across a caravan. Some still traveled to the place he was trying to reach. In fact, it was the stories of that place that had caused him to get banished in the first place; Bulldrek. The realm of Æ, and of others who shared the reputed godlings vision. And also a realm of almost pure chaos, pain and suffering. He grinned. It would be perfect.

Long weeks later, he staggered into a copse of palms on the other side of the Desert of Disconnection, having lost amost all track of time in the course of his journey. There was food here, and water. He drank heavily from the oasis, and ate his fill of fruits from the palms and bushes scattered about. The bordermarches would not be far...

The walls around this realm were high and mighty, purposfully so, since the Lords did not want anyone interfearing in their lives. Ostensibly they were there to protect the people of this land, but in reality, they were there to keep the people in. However, even such a wall as this would have gates, though none were normally allowed to use it. Only the Banished were allowed to step outside the walls, and they were never allowed to come back in again. A grim smiled lit his face. There would be guards at the gate. They would not let him pass uncontested.

The second day after having left the oasis, he could see the walls in the horizon, and as it turned late evening they had grown to a mountain range in it's own right. The traveler grimaced. An imposing edifice, but then again, every prison was. As night had well and truly fallen, he finally reached the gate. Five guards stood watch, weapons ready, supposedly looking for outside enemies.

<Then why do they face inwards?> thought the traveler to himself and smiled ruefully. He approached slowly, hands raised and palms outwards as he slowly summoned his powers.

"Halt! Who goes there! This area is forbidden for Commoners!" The guards, alerted to the travelers presence, lined him up in their crosshairs.

"Relax, friend, it is me. I'm Banished, never to set foot here again." The travelers voice sounded harsh even to his own ears.

"You are not my friend, and Banished though you may be, the Lords have given specific instructions that you are not allowed to pass this gate. Find somewhere else to go." The guards voice was belligerent and surley, and it was understandable. Those who visited Bulldrek were either converted or destroyed in short order.

"Then you will not let me pass?" The traveler made an effort to speak softly, implying no threat. In his mind, he marshalled his strength for attack. This close to the bordermarches, he would be able to unleash a far more devastating attack than in the city.

"No, I will not. Now, leave!" The guard was raising his weapon. The traveler sighed. He had really hoped they would be reasonable about it. And so he let fly with his weapon. The Lords had been very careful when constucting their realm, but there was one thing they had overlooked; the amusement and agony of alitteration.

The traveler chuckled evilly as a Painstakingly Precise Purple Pike of Perfect Pelvic Penetration and Perforation shattered the lead gurads pelvic bone. As the scintilliating shard of purple light faded, the guard screamed in agony and landed in a whimpering heap on the ground. The traveller was already swinging a Cunningly Crafted Cerulean Censer of Complete Cranial Collapse over his head, and let it fly right into the head of a second guard. The guard didn't even have time to scream as his head burst into a spray of blood and gore.

Two of the remaining guards drew steel and charged, while the third broke and ran. The traveller pulled out a Meticulously Manipulated Mauve Mace of Mortal Mastication, grinning gleefully as hundreds of fanged steel mouth opened and shut, prepared to devour flesh. He swung it nonchalantly into the side of the third guard. The fool tried to parry, but his blade snapped like flimsy balsa wood, and the mace plowed right through him. Judging from the scream, the pain was significant.

The fourth guard was upon him, swinging his sword downwards in a brutal overhead slash, only to find his blade stopped by a Perfectly Prepared Poignard of Parrying Prowess. He gaped in surprise as the traveller punched through his ribcage with the Gloriously Grim Glowing Golden Gauntlet of Gleeful Gore and tore out his heart. The only sound to escape his lips, was a wet gurgle as blood flooded his windpipe.

With a derisive snort, the traveller turned to observe the fifth, fleeing guard, and waved his hand idly. A perfectly positioned Amazingly Antagonistic Amber Anvil of Agonizing Atomization destroyed the coward instantly, leaving nothing behind but a shockwave and some singed grass.

The traveller took the Gate Key from the leader, laughing derisively as he stood over the whimpering, sobbing wreck on the ground.

"Who.... who /are/ you?" The leader managed to choke out between sobs. As the traveller placed a boot clad foot on the neck of the whimpering man, he smiled serenely.

"Who I was is no longer of any concern. I have a new name now, one I have chosen for myself. You may call me TLM. Give my regards to the Lords when they resurrect you." With that, the traveller brought his boot down sharply, breaking the guards neck with a sound like a rotten twig snapping in half.

As he walked up to the gate, TLMs hands shook in excitement. Finally free of these cursed fools and their blindness. Finally, finally free from the constraints of "proper speech and behaviour". His had to force his hands to remain steady as the turned the Gate Key in the lock.

As he finsied turning the key, the Gate changed. It was now wrought black iron and obsidian, decorated with spikes, portrusions, weird assymetrical symbols and angles, and the huge legend "BD" emblazoned on its center. TLM pushed it open. A wind, cold and musty, whipped out of the Gate to encircle him. It smelled heady, damp, and decaying, the scent of unrestricted imagination and power. he would be the lowest there, he knew. But he did not care. He stepped through, and felt the Change come over him.

As he entered the bordemarches and headed for Bulldrek Proper, TLM was no longer the man that had come through on the other side. His body had been replaced from the waist down, legs discarded in favor of a globe, with ten impossibly long and thin spiderlike appendages that clicked ominously and continuously on the rocky ground. His skin was now a pale white color, and his long hair had turned blacker than pitch, hanging limply around his face as if constantly wet. The arms were also slimmer and thinner than before, and long silvery claws had replaced fingernails. As he scanned the barren surroundings with pitch black eyes, his mouth parted wide in a fanged, vicious grin.

"Home... at last. I think I will like it here...." He laughed loudly, joyfully, raising his arms towards the cruel, black, uncaring sky...

[TLM]

Wrote this yeaterday... to pass time. Not very good, and completely unedited apart from a few spelling errors. Ok, guys, have fun. Ass-rape away!

[Kai]

Heh, fun One of these days we ought to try and collect a little page of persona origins for those of us who have had way too much fun with them.

[FlameBlade]

Since we're on-topic.

SMITE™!!!!

KERBLAMMO!

Nice piece, by the way.

[Salvation122]

I like it. It's a lot better thought out than mine - I just kinda showed up one day cause I was bored.

[Kai]

Kai's is much better organized than Wildfire's but hey, equally fun and all, but I already posted them anyways