Author Topic: Ax Fell - Redemption  (Read 236 times)

Alan Hunter

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Ax Fell - Redemption
« on: July 05, 2020, 01:42:58 PM »
Ax fell: Redemption

Though Jack was incapable of writing and reading he taught himself how to memorize his memories like a journal. He did business by remembering faces and prices he negotiated easily with this method or else he never get his money. Jack was illiterate but could sure count his numbers especially when it came to fang. These all came thanks to people who taught him and the the unspeakable means to survival. When Jack came to this world he was already broken from the Mist his mind damaged and his memories faded. In all purpose he was a savage scurrying the outskirts like some wild animal devouring Fire Beetle innards to survive.

Laying against his favorite tree in the village far far away from people Jack reminisced on the transpiring events. Yue, Echo, had gotten her friends to help him find a cure to his illness. Mist Illness or curse Jack didn't understand the difference the oaf merely knew he was tired of consuming people and being hunted and weary of people. Trust was a currency rare in this world as it can easily be broken and discarded. Jack trusted Galt Gunderson a man he fought beside many of times and even rescued in his near deaths.

Rein Loktos she was so young so innocent and Jack felt sorry for her. Belief in Pelor was the second time Jack almost believed in a god. Rein's words were so reassuring that Jack believed for once that maybe some iadul god would give him mercy. But, as she too betrayed his trust broken their loyalty Jack realized the weakness in such faiths. The irony a similar follower would aid him despite the past he had. Though he was thankful the one elected to perform the right wasn't an old enemy.

Looking to his hands such an old enemy was powerful they were all powerful yet Jack didn't care anymore. Looking to the dreary rainy sky of Barovia Jack smiled chewing on a piece of dried deer. It was still slightly inedible to him as his cure had not truly manifested even so the juices reminded him of the days when he hunted in that savage time of his life when he first arrived. Wry grin he wondered of old Dragomir puzzled in what he did now outside the Garda.

Reflecting Jack knew were it not for Rodika and Dragomir beating the shit out of him on a daily basis he would never learned the Barovian ways or language. It was them who instilled hard work and the err to ignore the count's law. Back then things were harsher and not as friendly now to outlanders. Now many outlanders Jack watched felt privileged or entitled because of their tragedy. It disgusted Jack how simple those kind of sheep were and how easy it was to simply do away with them.

Shaking his head reminding himself not to get angry Jack considered all the times he had beat up outlanders, pitics, mostly pitics because that was the culture then. Recalling May Jack smiled wondering whatever happen to that small hopeful pitic. How her heart break would make Jack smile now if she saw how evil most pitics were. Then it dawn to him how pointless good people were in this world and yet he did good and somehow survived. Well in a way he survived because of Molly.

Molly the child vampire was considered by most wicked and evil and yet Jack saw her for what she was. A victim child trapped eternally in the body of a little girl. Jack wasn't really intelligent in how such a process worked but he knew that such a curse would undoubtedly made that same little girl mad in the head. To be grown with the maturity of a woman and yet never aged or was it to age and yet still be trapped with the mentality of a child? Yet in that stage of his life when he struggled to be fair and friendly with outlanders she showed him more kindness than any of them.

Sure, Luca the Rat Catcher used him for his size to protect himself. But, Luca gave him work and jobs no outlander did. Domna Ma'jor a drow used him for his strength and ruthlessness making him her pet but Jack was her Jaluk and not even her scrawny drow male could beat Jack and she taught him of coin and business. Molly taught him the really lesson in his life the one Jack held dear. "There are sheep Jack. Sheep are often wolves in sheep clothing and those you can easily see. But, it's the scarred little sheep that will lie, cheat, and do anything to survive even give up one of their own all to pass another day."

No sooner she spoke those words and watched her on goings with the outlanders he watched first hand how outlanders would betray a friend to live. How others would deceive their trust all to ensure they live. This is how Jack came to know the hearts of outlanders and not just them all people of the Core. It was there everyday of his life in their dramas and tragedies. In the outskirts or in the Mist Camp. If you were not one of them you were an outcast regardless and thus expendable.

When the Mist Man came into Jack's life he was going to die in the woods by a Halfling who despised Jack for his cruelty for Halflings. Yet Jack never killed a halfling except one who he strung up like a puppet for assaulting him. Left for dying not only did the pitic stole Jack's purse and axes he left with the words. "People like you are what make me sick. You don't deserve to live." Yet the pitic didn't know Jack's life, his struggles, the constant bullying of outlanders calling him "Stupid, Worthless, Challenged, Imbecile, Idiot, Meaningless." It was Jack who felt that everyday that such people made him sick and drove him to be like this. If he didn't he would of died long ago.

When he felt the last of his breath he awoke to find himself before an demon spawn a fiend like a shadow enveloped in mist. "The Mist Man" It looked over to him. "Why do you let them do such things too you? Why do you allow them to walk over you? Surely you are stronger than them. You are built better than them? so why?" And what little wisdom the Mist Man gave Jack learned from the Mist Man to fight in the night to kill stronger things that even people were afraid of and to stop being a boastful idiot to a threatening idiot.

Leaning back against the old tree Jack reached into his cloak removing a vial which had some smoke residue along it. Burned when they set him afire for being a Cannibal. When Molly was nearing her departure things had got heated with a paladin and his friends. Jack had introduce the Mist Man and Molly and they soon became good friends. All in all Jack knew such creatures were inherently evil but like him were cursed for some reason with people.

When the paladin discovered Jack due to a friend tigan of his following Jack to their meeting place that was when the real horror became true. Molly's words rang true. No matter how well Jack explained to the paladin he could see nothing beyond justice or his zealotry. When the fight broke out Jack was forced to fight with Molly and the Mist Man. They defeated them once and convinced Molly and the Mist Man to not kill them that it was best to run to the Mist Camp and enter the Mist. How wrong Jack was as no sooner did they recover did they give chase.

By the time they entered the Mist so did their pursuers and a fight broke out once more. However Jack was alone Molly had left with the Mist Man back to the foggy reaches of the land beyond. Vulgar words, tense muscles, rage beyond anything Jack knew he fought. Wasn't a clean fight either he knocked down, disarmed, stunned, and fought dirty to live. He had slain them all but his wounds were grieve and his rage was subsiding to quickly. Jack clutched his chest remembering that terrible nightmare the seventh time he died and knew this time no one was going to find him in the mist along his assailants.

Dying Jack recalled A gift Molly gave to him a vile of blood filled with golden flecks of dust. At this point Jack sooner desire to be a monster than to die with these fools in the Mists. Hesitant Jack knew what Molly meant if he were to drink this and what it would bring to him. The blood even though few days old was colder than he expected it burned going down his throat. When darkness claimed him surely he thought he be reborn as some iadul Vrolok chasing after the stupid outlanders with joy. Till the feint image of a sadden Mist Man came and felt it surging through his nostrils and lungs as if trying to keep him alive.

Jack felt sad for some reason he knew the Mist Man would perish if it did so. Cold deep nothing filled his body and eyes. Jack felt warmth to his body and when he awoke with such a hunger he knew nothing would ever be the same. That memory haunted Jack to this day. "Why couldn't they understand? Just like I sought a cure they didn't understand. Yet my friend Yolven, Karis, Echo, and the few that shed tears for me understood. I was a victim of people's sick minds of selfishness and beliefs. I was the damn daft child nobody wanted not even by his own mother that everybody rejected. Of course I would hate the world and its people. My existence was nothing but their torments of me since I was born."

Angrily Jack crushed the vial and tossed its shattered remains to the land. "Sorry, Molly. Maybe when I'm dead and if this anger still thrives maybe I'll be la Monster like you. It seems that's the only thing they understand. Because Monsters can only speak with other Monsters." Shuddering and holding himself Jack couldn't help but tremble at the memory of his burning in Vallaki. Looking to his burned scars and pale skin he sighed. even though resurrected and medically taken care of he was indescribable from his old Jack self. His hair was gone he had a short gruff patchwork beard. Jack had to cover himself in bandages every day due to the sores and cracks of his skin from his malicious burns. Pain was his constant friend and yet he struggle to angrily with indomitable will to ignore the pain of his belly from his cannibal like curse.

The thought of his true friends not desiring him to be a monster was enough. Jack by nature was stubborn and brutish and no man, no monster, and no curse was going to defeat him. If his days were at his last he would spend them working on what he loved most  which was forging steel. Jack wanted to make the best steel before he disappeared. Steel worthy of his name and remembrance with edges so sharp and grips sturdy a true weapon worthy to cut into all monsters even those right beside them. Feverishly Jack trembled and laughed getting up to go to his secret spot to forage for iron ore. The "Angry Ax" and the Jack people knew was dead and gone there was no reason for him to retain the name of his past those men were gone and dead.

Jack would need a new name and be a new person only those true to him will know who he was and his past. For now they will know him as "Bandages" not a very Barovian name but he always considered the name "Nimir" and "Rodavan" It had a romantic and strong allure to it and Jack consider that it would be a good name to blend in. If any asked he was Barovian enough to blend in though given his height he was taller than most Barovian men and his burns would conceal most of the confusion if people didn't see him as one. Yet that all he wanted to do was give himself a new name and submit to his new identity. All Jack desired was to work his steel and make his magnificent works. The Pelor Priestess insists Jack should redeem himself in acts of good. But, that was the stupidity of priests and paladins that acts of good would erase sin. With huffing scoff Jack stood from his tree dusting himself off and asserting new bandages to his scars.

"No amount of good doing changes the evil a domn does. Even good men can do evil and just don't want to admit it. It's domns like me who know he done wrong and accepts it who do good things." And with that Jack moved to go to his spot for iron so he can make his master pieces in hopes to redeem himself in a way Jack knew how, through Steel.
"For Evil to win is for good men to do nothing."