8BitMMO Wiki
Register
Advertisement

Nibrudly

Nibrudly

Introduction

As I sit here and write my memoirs I walk along the lanes of my memory. Some are well kept and are tender to my feet, signifying those memories that make me happy. Likewise, I see some that are crooked, misshapen and full of burrs and thorns. The ironic thing is that these are the memories I visit the most. I guess they keep me grounded in reality; the cold, merciless, depressing reality. I look outside my window and see the war factories producing endless amounts of arms and siege weapons against the Cats and Zombies. How did it come to this? We were at peace, however short it was, and now we have been caught in the entanglement that is Great War.

Goodness, I'm more depressing than Grim, and he's just like that naturally! I guess I just miss the mirth and laughter I used to produce so naturally. Here I am feeling sorry for myself! Goodness Nib, old man! Pull yourself together! Alright!

Dear Reader,

Whether it is by fate or by chance you happened upon this tome I hope it will serve to educate you on the events and the extraordinary individuals that have surrounded me during my lifetime. I apologize if it seems biased at times, but then again these are my memoirs and not the official History of 8bitloria found in the Stultorum Library now is it? Keep in mind I was brash and not as tactful in my youth as I am today. If I had been, perhaps things would have played out differently...

Anyway, I can't drone on forever so I hope you enjoy my memoirs and I hope, I most sincerely hope, that you will learn from my mistakes and do your best to uphold justice for all and to strive for peace amongst all the extraordinary races that inhabit our realm.

The Great Fool,

Damien Nibrudly

Chapter 1: My Early Days

Now, where to begin? Ah, yes. Concerning humans: Humans are smelly, ill-tempered and will always start a fight when they feel like it. At least that was my impression in my childhood days, as I wandered about my small village. I was different from the other children in the fact that I had no aggressive bone in my body. Interestingly enough, this is a rare case as every human you meet has, at least, some inkling of aggression stored inside themselves. I was incapable of becoming angry, or rather, I was incapable of using my anger as a weapon; as most humans usually do. This brought about many afternoons of running, beatings, and then sobbing my eyes out until they were dry. I was not very adept at the art of war and swordplay, as the other boys were. It's not that I couldn't pick up a sword and swing it; I just didn't see the need. It had never occurred to me that there were creatures and rival power-mongering tribes who would strike me down as soon as they caught sight of me. So, with a rather large amount of reluctance on my part, I would begrudgingly take part in morning training.

Now then, enough about my day-to-day schedule, let's talk about my family. I had a Father, strong, wise and-most importantly-kind. My mother, prone to fits of sneezing due to her severe allergies, served as one of my greatest teachers. What I lacked in the more, how-to-say, "Intellectual" subjects she more than made up for during my studies at home. As far as siblings go, I would have had a brother but he died during birth. Although I was very young when it happened I remember my mother sobbing uncontrollably in bed and my father sitting lifeless by the window, staring out into the fields his new little boy would have eventually frolicked through. This was, of course, years from where we are currently, but this being my memoirs I figured I might as well share some small part of my family history. Anyway, I wish to go into further detail about the two who brought me into this world.

My Father, Thorobrand Nicholas Nibrudly, was one of the better warriors in my village. He wasn't the best, per se, but I, along with plenty of others, believed he could run our village should our current Chief fall from us. While most of the fathers in my village would be rather rude or downright cruel to their boys for failure to become "real men" my father accepted I was different and helped me embrace who I was and what I was becoming. Of course no Nibrudly Man can skip out on morning training so he'd send me out the door every morning with shield and wooden steak in hand. While I disliked it my father helped me realize that while peace is desirable, one must be strong and know how to defend himself and others if he ever hopes to obtain it. So, despite my reluctance to become a savage, bloody troll (I tell you I was sure some of the men spent their days under a bridge!) I understood that to protect others you have to better yourself physically, mentally, and, although it was rarely brought into question, spiritually.

Now to talk of my dear, dear mother, Philipia Primrose Hslawgo, she fell in love with my father despite the fact he had once failed to win her hand in marriage. You see it is tradition in my village that in the spring every elligible lass and lad (Those seventeen or older) who is a bachelor or bachelorette should partake in the Spring Oyunlar, essentially a competition in which the men compete for their heart's desire. Primitive, I know, but that was before we had our revelations which, as you should know, only came about barely ten years ago. Anyway, my mother was next in the "prize" line and my father was among the next to compete. The games consist mostly of games of strength, like the log toss, hatchet throw, and wrestling. Now, as I said before, my father was certainly not the best warrior in the village and, unfortunately, he was paired up with the strapping young brute that was. Now my father wasn't lanky, but nobody could compare to that hulk as they squatted into their starting positions in the ring. Long story short, he was pinned shy of three minutes. Thus, according to our rules, my mother went to the young brute. You may ask yourself "How can she develop feelings for this boy who can't even stand up for himself? Much less, one she doesn't know." Ah, but that's just it! They were lifelong friends. Even more so when he pledged his love to her a year prior to their eligible year. So, it was the intention of both, that they should come together formally and officially in this manner. Back to the results of the fight: My mother "belonged" to the young brute, but then my father challenged him to a duel. Now in the games a single duel may be made for a maiden who is in another's possession, and my father was willing to die to keep my mother out of harm and belittlement. Now, the other man has every right to refuse, unless the lady says he must fight. (Not so primitive now is it?) And so my Mother urged on the young brute to accept my father's challenge. What my father lacked in brute strength he made up for in agility and form, quickly defeating his foe with three thrusts of his sword. (Don't worry, duels were only fought with the heavy wooden training swords. The worst you could suffer was a concussion) And so that's how my parents came together...and I said next to nothing about my mother!

Alright, we'll try that again. Anyway, my mother was the sweetest, kindest flower in the whole village. That didn't mean she wouldn't give you a backhand if you had it coming! But she served as my refuge when I'd come in all battered and bruised after being caught by my "chums". She knew I was a gentle heart and she did her best to help it beat louder and stronger. She taught me basic morality and philosophy, to the point where I was mediating arguments amongst the children in my village when they got hot-tempered and were anxious to let their fists fly. While I was successful most of the time the children would then remember I was an outcast and would resume the chase. Suffice to say, I became a rather skilled sprinter and quite the contortionist due to the small size of the hiding places avaiable for my use. But I digress, my mother had very severe allergies and the tiniest bit of pollen or dander could set her off. Spring was almost literally murder for her, but it was her favorite season despite of it. Sadly enough it was in Spring that she passed from us after getting dreadfully sick during the winter. I was about thirteen at this time and I was as much an anchor for my Father as he was for me.

So I continued to train and study to become a wise and learned warrior. It could be said that my house, which I was now rarely occupying, was my home away from home due to the sheer amount of time I spent pouring over every piece of parchment in our town repository. While the other men spent long hours training their bodies I was busy training my mind, when I wasn't needed for physical work such as harvesting or a barn-raising of course. My life was finally sstarting to come together in my village. I was getting some respect and I was made the assistant teacher in the small tent that was our school. My life was finally going the way I wanted it to.

Alas, tragedy was to strike my life again that following summer. Only a month after my fourteenth birthday. That was when we were assaulted by the Cats. They came in mobs, the last light of the sunset glistening of their claws. They wore strange clothing and spoke rather elegant Human Speak as they shouted out insults and threats as they made their advance. They practically razed our village to the ground, slashing and burning everything and everyone. I made it my priority to get the village children to someplace safe. As I finished gathering the children around me I saw Terror turning its feline head in our direction. I yelled "RUN!" as the cat charged. Just as I was about to be impaled on the fiend's claws my father threw himself in front of me and took the blow. Don't think the Cat got away with it though, my father quickly returned the favor and ran him through with his sword. As he fell towards the earth I caught him in my arms, trying my derndest to hold back the tears that wanted to spring forth from my eyes. He saw the sorrow on my face. He smiled...And he told me I was a strong man and a strong warrior. With his fianl breath he said those three words sons rarely hear from thier father: "I love you." And with that he went to join my mother. I did my best to contain my sobbing as I led the children away from our smoldering village. We spent the next twelve hours traveling along the road, being wary of any ambushes until we reached the small village, Tranzenia.

Once my wards were safe and had been adopted into good homes, I took it upon myself to learn more to expand my already lengthy list of skills. So, within a month of our arrival, I became "apprentice" to a recluse who lived in the woods. It was this old man who taught me to forage, to build shelter from nothing but sticks and leaves, and to track and hunt game. So now I was becoming an accomplished woodsman and I had yet to grow a hair on my chin. After three years in the woods I decided it would be a smart idea to go learn how to make good buildings, buildings that would not fall from a Cat's claw or a flaming torch. So I joined the local Masonry and I learned how to build good-looking, Cat resistant, structurally sound buildings. These were suprisingly very good years despite the trauma I experienced only four years prior. It was the summer of my eighteenth year that my life would be utterly changed forever.

Chapter 2: Happy Birthday

It was my eighteenth birthday. I woke up, put on my clothes, packed a lunck sack, and grabbed my sword as I headed out to begin my day. Now, in my village, you could do anything you wanted-within legal reason-on your birthday and, thankfully, my new home celebrated this tradition as well. So I did not have to go into work that morning as I made my way towards the village outskirts, greeting everyone I passed with a cheery "Good Morning." Upon reaching the village gate (that I had helped create) I went over to the small guardhouse there and had a wonderful conversation with Old Man Roman. He had served as a mentor to me when I was trying to decide what to do with my life. Because of him I spent three years in the woods and was granted entry into the Guild of Masonry due to his recommendation. It was he who was that "recluse" in the woods, who came back to society after my 3 years with him. As it had turned out, he had been the Head of the Guild until a nervous breakdown after some of his buildings didn't make the cut. He then went into the woods and stayed there by himself until my arrival 7 years later. So now he serves as the gateman of Tranzenia, being our first line of communication and defense, should we be attacked.

After finishing our conversation I borrowed his horse and went on my way down the road. Back to my old home. I had started this birthday tradition after my first year of relocation. It helped me to remember my heritage and all that had once been what I had known as my life. Upon my arrival three hours later, I visited the graves of my Mother and Father, both of them sleeping underneath a willow tree. The mournful tree reflected my emotions as I stood there looking down at the cold, stone slabs.

I remember being among the men that returned to my village to assess the damage. I was among those who piled burned timbers and buried the dead. It was upon finding my father's stone-cold corpse that all my pain and sorrow burst forth. I later heard from the whisperings of those who had been with me that I had made the most terrifying noise they had ever heard. Of course I had, for my scream was that of ultimate suffering. Have you ever looked upon the cold, lifeless face of one you have loved so dearly your whole life, and then have been brought to the very edge of sickness from the stench coming off of their unattended corpse? Have you ever had everything you have ever known stolen from right in front of you, ran for your very life away from the carnage, and then returned only to relive it all over again? Have you ever felt the universe wanted you to suffer for no apparent reason, just because it found your agony entertaining? That is what sorrow and tragedy are! That, dear reader; is the ultimate suffering I had gone through.

But I digress. After speaking with my parents and walking through that ghost town located within my memories, I began my trek back to my new home. As I rode back I felt enormous sorrow and pain, not just for my losses but for those of the children who had gone through the same horrifying experience as I had. My thoughts then turned towards a dark, thorny path in my mind, a path I had never dared to tread upon until now: the road of anger and vengeance. For the first time in my life I wanted to hurt something, and I was going to enjoy every moment as I did it. I envisioned the Cat that stole my father on that horrible night in the dark recesses of my mind. He charged at me but then was stopped dead in his tracks. He tried to move and call for help but he couldn't, not while I was there. As I made my way toward him I could hear his pitiful whimpering and mewling through his closed maw. I relished in his fear, his horror, and his newfound agony. As I raised my sword to start my horrendous regimen of torture I saw the shadow of my father in the background. As I looked at him he looked back at me. He had this sad look on his face, no words came forth from his mouth but I understood the message he wished to convey, "This isn't you. This isn't right." As he vanished from my eyes I looked back on the face of the Cat. I saw the genuine fear in his eyes. I saw the contorted spasms of his muscles as he tried to wiggle out of my psychic hold on him. I turned away to escape the Cat's gaze to find a full-length mirror standing before me. As I walked towards the mirror it reflected this terrifying monstrosity. It resembled a human but had no skin, only muscle, along with a totally bare skull. Fire was flaring forth from its eye sockets. As I drew closer I put my hand over my mouth in shock...and the monster in the mirror did the same. With newfound horror I started to do all sorts of strange tricks and funny faces, the monster mimicking me in every way. It then sunk into my psyche: this was me, this was what I had become in those few short minutes as I had embraced my anger and hatred. I ran as fast and as far away as I could from that mirror! As I ran I looked at my hands and was horrified to watch them decompose, my eyes felt, ironically, like they were on fire. I knew I was turning into that monster in the mirror, that fiend of Anger and Death. As I ran I tripped and then I felt myself falling, falling, falling...

As I hit the ground I awoke to find myself lying on the road with pain in my ribs and skull. I had dozed off and had fallen off my horse. But I wasn't naive enough to not realize that that had been no ordinary dream. That was a warning; a warning of what I could become if I gave in to my anger and succumbed to my thought of vengeance. I got back on my horse and continued my ride. I felt funny. Funny as in I was feeling something that made no sense. I felt peace. I realized it was peace in the fact that I had just passed some sort of test. Whether it was my subconscious or an actual message from my father I'll never know. I was just glad it helped me get back to reality.

As I was closing in on the final mile of road that stretches out along the plains towards Tranzenia I looked up and saw a flash. The flash was accompanied by a humongous boom! So strong was the aftershock I fell of the horse again! As I picked myself up I saw an object in the sky. It was growing bigger and bigger. I then realized it wasn't getting bigger, it was growing closer! I dove into the grass as the mysterious object flew over my head and crashed into the plain. Upon recovering my bearings I decided it would be a good idea to run. But something about this mysterious object made me curious, a trait that would put me into many a sketchy situation as you will see, er, read. As I went over I examined the object. The first thing I noticed was that this wasn't an object; this was a person. Not a regular person, mind you, but it was, in fact, Homo 8bitian. As I drew closer to touch the being it suddenly sprang up from ground, bright light flashing from its sockets. As I waited for my imminent death the being's eyes went out and I saw the normal human pupils. The being let out a sigh as it dropped to the ground, unconscious. This was an amazing discovery! I placed the being on my horse and walked back into town, bringing the mysterious visitor to our town healer for treatment. Where it came from and why it came I did not know, what I did know was that this being would have a very important role in my life. At least; for the next few hours.

Chapter 3: The Strange Visitor

It took some effort to move through the streets due to the large crowd that had formed. Finally, I and my find made it to the hospital and to the town healer. After a thorough (and I do mean thorough) examination, it was found that nothing was out of the ordinary with our guest aside from his clammy skin and rigid complexion. Obviously, the Visitor wasn't going to wake up soon so I decided to go help with the construction of the town fortress. Ever since the destruction of my village, the people of Tranzenia have worked on improving the village defenses. We finished the wall only a year ago. This fortress would be our source of shelter and retribution in the worst-case scenario of a Cat Attack. But I digress.

The following morning I walked in to the hospital to find the Visitor had changed sleeping position but was still quite out of it. As I sat down next to the bed the Visitor started to toss and turn. I called the healer just before the Visitor shot up and let out one of the loudest yells I have ever witnessed. The Healer came in accompanied by two bodyguards should our Visitor prove to be aggressive. He was rather placid, actually. You know, aside from the endless screaming of "WHAT HAPENED?! WHERE AM I?!" and the attempted tearing off of his face. It was actually quite entertaining. Finally, he calmed down enough to listen to my introduction. I told him I was known as Nibrudly and he was in the village of Tranzenia. He began to introduce himself but curiously lost his voice after getting as far as "My name is..." But within five seconds he responded in a rather monotone and sporadic manner. He said he was known as Sim Nyne (written out as Sim9 as I saw in our later travels) and he had come from a Sky Portal. This explained the strange cloud that had formed several leagues away from our village.

As soon as he felt well I took him on a tour of the village. I showed him our school, the wall, our town Square, and my three story home I had built all on my own. He liked it all very much. He then asked who could teach him about the world, about building, and how to fight. This was rather interesting, barely a day after crashing into the ground headfirst and he wants to learn basic education. I figured it was due to an unfound concussion of some sort. Upon this belief I decided it would be best for someone to watch after him, but I was sure nobody would be willing to take him in. So I decided it was time to put the second story of my house to use and take on a boarder.

The next morning my accommodations were graced with a visit from our village chief, the mighty warrior Harzipan. Harzipan had served during the Great Cat War a few decades back. it had left him with one eye and one leg. But he could still trounce any who challenged him. After introducing Sim9 to Harzipan I began his instruction. It was grueling to say the least, as it seemed I was training a toddler. He had the short attention span and could throw a tantrum like one too. But, eventually, I was able to educate him about standard village life, how to place stone pavers and some very basic swordplay.

To further his learning I was able to land him an apprenticeship in the guild and I had him join our town militia. He was exhausted within 2 day time. He has as much stamina as a hog on a hot summer day. It was rather embarrassing. Not for Sim9, although he certainly much to be embarrassed about, but I was having trouble showing my face in public. I do realize this was extremely shallow and vain, but you try having pride in someone who can't go two minutes without complaining or calling for a break when you asked him to place a stinking block! And I was known to be a very good teacher, my pupils, however inexperienced they began, always showed major improvement after they had finished their tutelage with me. He was ruining my reputation and I wasn't going to stand for it!

Over the next few months I started him on a rigorous regimen of building, fighting and studies that'd make a learned scholar cry for mercy. Interestingly enough, he learned far more quickly under this newfound pressure. Soon I could show my face in public again, as Sim9 was now of average talent. I never said I could make them geniuses...

Moving on, there was increased Cat activity in the woods and we were all on edge. We fortified the wall and increased our production of the fortress. We weren't going to take any chances. And within a few weeks they finally made their move. What was about to happen next surprised everyone in Tranzenia, especially me.

Chapter 4: The Beginning

Advertisement