Zeph's History

[Guest]

As he walked along the mountainous path; his six foot eight inch frame moving easily along the rocky path; the man known by many as Zeph began to think about his history. This was defiantly a dangerous thing to do; not only because of the feelings it brought up but also because he was walking along a narrow path about 7500 feet up. He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts, sighing as strands of snow white hair fell before his ice blue eyes. He cursed as he almost slipped and fell. It would be his luck to go falling down a hill and not in a Dance. He heaved himself up the last few feet to a clearing he had visited many a times when he needed to think; not that thinking was his strong suit mind you.

He sat down crossed legged and pulled his two main friends from their sheaths. The first he removed was Thunderblade. As he removed the two-handed bastard sword the sound of thunder rumbled through the mountains bringing a smile to his face. He set the sword down as gently as he could and turned his head as he unsheathes Lightning Axe, a half-mooned battle ax, from his back. As he does there is a bright flash of lighting. He then sets his dagger, Sadain, on the ground next to them. He nods to the warrior spirits in his sword and ax then begins to let his mind drift.

Far from where he sits now and high in the mountains there is a place called the Valley of the Winds, it is here that the Wind Gods of the East and West are constantly battling for supremacy over those that made there home there. At the time there were two villages. On the western side of the valley and the other on the eastern. Zephyr, the God of the Western Wind, swore his people were mightier then those of his brother Eurus; who ruled over the eastern village and was God of the Eastern Wind. Many battles were fought between the two villages until both villages were almost wiped out completely. It was then that the Gods decided that something new had to be done, so they forced villages to merger and marry.

The Gods left the villagers alone for many generations, entertaining themselves by battling in the sky. No more was the valley called the Valley of the Winds, but now called Vally of the Eternal Storms. Life in this time was harsh, for their would not be normal seasons only brief respites in the action above them. During these times the villagers would go out and gather what every berries and roots they could. Hunting was not a problem, as they had become skilled in hunting in even the worse of fights between the brothers.

All did not go according to plan, as marriages did not last. No matter what there was still to much animosity between the villagers. It was this that caused just the occasional coupling of man and woman, if I child was produced from that coupling then the sex of the child determined who raised it. Males were raised by males and females by females. It also tended to determine the outcome of the child's life. For the Gods grew weary of battling each other. They now watched their followers and saw their hunting prowess, as well as their adaptability to what ever thy threw at them.

It was the God Zephyr that came up an ingenious idea, each year one of them would choose a champion from the village. That champion would then set out with three days worth of supplies, a sword, and the clothes on his back. He would battle one of the numerous rock trolls that called these mountains home. The other God could do whatever they wished to help hinder the champion, except kill the champion. Which ever God won that year would be worshiped that year. Eurus agreed to it with one small addition. He said that no old men or those men important to the village- blacksmiths, millers, and the like- would be used. Zephyr agreed reluctantly as this greatly reduced the range of men that they could use.

Eurus went first and chose a twelve year old boy. Zephyr made the winds blow so hard the first night the boy was out that he perished. The following year Zephyr chose an eighteen year old boy. But alas he also perished as Eurus made the winds blow so hard that a tree fell on the poor lad. Not even females were safe from this, and as such the village began once more to dwindle in numbers. The village tried to counteract the will of the Gods by training all the children in as many things as they could. Hoping beyond hope that a child would excel in one art or another. Also, as often happens with the Gods, the gods were bored and began to fight among themselves.

During a time when the Gods were battling at the strongest, a child was conceived and born. This child did not look like any of the villagers, for the child had cloud white hair and eyes the color of ice itself. The Wise One of the village named the child Zephyr Eurus in honor of the Gods and to appease them. Little did she known that this would cause the almost ruination of everything the villagers had worked generations for. Now as the child was male, it was up to the father to raise him. The village had high hopes as the father was the village's blacksmith, but alas the child showed no skill in the Art of Smithing. In all his years in a forge he create only two things, his ax and his sword. Everything else came out misshapen and ruined.

It was upon closer examination by the Wise One that the true reason the axe and sword allowed themselves to be made. For there was a very old and well forgotten legend, that those heroes that died an epic death could return to the material world by inhabiting a weapon. If they chose to, these spirits could also impart strange abilities to the weapon. One thing was for sure, the bearer of these weapons lived to be a great warrior. In all of the recorded history, this miracle had happened only twice. But here was a true miracle, for not only had it happened again but each weapon had its own spirit in it. It also seemed that the spirits had decided to imbue a gift onto the weapons. The sword rumbled like thunder when sheathed or unsheathed, hence earning the name Thunderblade. The ax flashed like lightning itself when it was sheathed, hence earning the name Lightning Axe.

Zeph's studies turned from Smithing to Dancing and it was here he excelled. His footsteps were like freshly falling snow, his movements like a whirling dervish. He could buffet his foe with a storm of blows. It was because of this that he earned his war name, Stormbringer. The Gods had taken notice of Zeph and stopped their bickering to test him. They sent packs of wolves at him while he was training, threaten his village with rock trolls and snow daemons. They did all the could to thwart him, yet somehow he always prevailed. Needless to say, this angered the Gods even more.

Unbeknown to everyone in his village was that Zeph's war name of Stormbringer, would be more accurate then ever. For the Gods had noticed that every time Zeph became angry, a storm would raise that would rival anything the two Gods could create. It also seemed that the madder Zeph got, the worse the storm got. This could not be allowed to happen as the Gods soon saw themselves without any power over the people of the village. So the brothers once more called a truce and discussed how best to deal with the Stormbringer.

Since there was no warring between the Gods, these were peaceful times in the village. The villagers thinking that Zeph himself had finally stopped the feuding between the Gods. He was hailed as a champion and his father was proud of him. The Wise One warned the villagers not to anger the Gods. For she warned that the Gods were fickle and could turn their wrath on the village instead of each other, but the villagers were to happy to heed her wise words. Zeph being a young man, cared not for what the Gods thoughts and relished in the adoration of his village. Taking part in wrestling matches topless in the cold, hunting only with a rock, and many more feats.

Finally the Gods agreed on a plan and began to put it into action. They told the Wise One that there would be no champion this year. Instead, there would be a sacrifice. This sacrifice would be easy to tell, as she would brand the sacrifice with there initials. The ritual was to take place on the shortest day of the year. They also assured her that she was not to fear for they would imbue the brand with their godly powers so that the being did not feel it any pain. The Wise One thanked them for the vision and set about her tasks. What was not told to her was that the brand would subdue the powers of Zeph so that only his anger would bring it forth. They also did not tell her that the brand would never heal, nor the fact that the brand was to be on a human.

Zeph had been getting a bad feeling from the brand his father was making, the spirits in his weapons affirming that something was not right. He made it a point to watch what all was going on, but stay unseen. On the final night of the making of the brand, the Wise One impeached upon the Gods to fulfill their promise and imbue the brand with their powers. At that moment lightning stroke twice, once from the east and once from the west. The brand glowed with a white heat all it's own, and would not need to be stoked in the fire. As the Wise One thanked the Gods, Zeph's father moved to the many animals waiting for the Gods to tell him which to brand. It was then that the Gods revealed that it would not be a God, but the Stormbringer himself whom would be sacrificed. Upon hearing this, Zeph's eyes went big and his father began to plead with the Gods.

Zeph decided to run at that moment. He stopped by his home and grabbed anything he could carry, he dallied to long as the village chief had found him and yelled for help. Many ran towards them to help, not wishing to anger the Gods. Zeph's father pleaded with the villagers to spare his son, but those cries fell on deaf ears. His father fought the villagers for the brand, until Zeph her a blood curdling scream. He then saw his own mother raise a bloodied dagger and thrust it into his father's chest once over and over. It was then that Zeph remembered that his mother was of another village then his father. Before the merger, Zeph's father had killed her husband in a war set forth by the Gods. He was then bent over and branded on the right lower part of his back. He screamed with pain, rage, embarrassment, and humiliation. His rage brought forth a huge storm, the winds throwing all the villagers from him. The smell of burning flesh and meat rising all the way to the heavens themselves. It was then that Zeph cursed the Gods whose name he bore and gathered his things and ran. Zeph continued to run until he reached a land called Rhy'Din. There he made friends, as well as enemies. He found love, and death. He found a home and work he loved, then watched it all fall from him. He remembered the whipping he received for actually helping a noble woman from a band of robbers. She had told the authorities that he was a member of their gang.

Zeph shook his head from the state reverence, knowing that was enough time dwelt on the past. He knew the other memories would send him over the edge. It was because of those memories; and the fact that people from his village had found him and attempted to drag him home; that he ran again. Ending up where he was now. He looked out at the sky, still cursing the Gods whose name he bore. He sniffed the air and smelled the flesh burning, and instantly went into breathing exercises. He had to remain calm. He had to keep his cool. He stripped to the waist; the brand now a festering unhealed wound; and picked up his weapons. He begun to practice until the moon was high above him and he collapsed with sheer exhaustion.