Updated (thanks for Gwal for telling Thoram and Thoram telling me) with the latest additions. Try sending me PM's next time, cause it feels a bit pointless sorting them on the front page when you keep adding them in links directly
Mother Kali (3 stories tru her dark life...) "Warning"
Mother Kali: the Hell begins
This dark story starts in a old house, a dragy house, whit soted wondows and a smell of hate,
i am about 9 years old and my dady takes me out to hunt whit him,
the first time he ever have done anything whit me... a trap is belling! we run there!
a smal animal is traped, dad tells me to kill it, i look at him and walks up to the litle fussy thing who almost
have kicked of hes leg from the trap, he bleeds alot from it... my dad dosent tell me how i shuld kill it so i,
well i was a kid who never had killed anything,
i bite him to death, and look at my dad, he smiles and tell me he "love" me...
dont know what it means but it must be a good thing cus he smiled when he told me and my father never smiles.
my dad and... mother fights alot... i like to see my father beat my mom... she hates me...
one day full of fighiting she stabs my dad tru hes neck when he is saying good night to me... it shower me whit blood from
hes mouth...i try to screem...i cant...dad... ¤
I tell him i love him... my mother laughts at me, she tells me that i just dont know what love is... i stay silent...
the whole night i hold his head in my arms but i dont cry, i cant cry, my mother,father and my brothers
always beat me when i cry, always hurt me in some way, always bleading some...
the day become night again and i fall a sleep whit my father in my arms
i wake up, my dad is standing in the room, he isent alive! just standing there!
i have seen it befor, my mother is learned on waking up animals, i have seen it, i have. they just stand, and hate!
my mother stands on the other side of the bed, she wispers to me, "do you wana know what love is Kali?"
she tells my dad to **** me... i screem inside, i hear my mother and brothers laughing at me...
(i dont think i like this "Love" thing, if this is it i dont want it anymore...)
4 months later i gave birth to somthing... un human, un frendly, un real, thanks to Set i lived tru the birthing of it.
my mother trows it in the basment like nothing have hapend. i feel like it left somthing inside of me,
somthing growing but at the same time not. i feel the same but stronger in some strange way.
living is a pain! yes my mother shows it to me every day!
one day i lock myself in my brothers room, they sleep... my mothers ritual book is heavy, i have read it many nights.
i kill them silently, the sisor cuts the troats easy... they dosent laugh at me, just stare, just stare at me.
the ritual is long and paifull for bouth me and the bodys of my brothers, they twist and turn of
the magic coming out from my cold skinny hands the candels blows out and darknes stands in the room again,
i hear them rising up and tryes to walk but i hold them in the pentagram untill i see that they listen and do what i say.
i pack some things in my smal bag, i shuld have got more but i just thought about my revenge that night, atlast.
my mother will get what i got! yes she whuld get it! but my revenge whuld be more, darker, darker than my life have been...
i open the basment door and get my baby up from the dark, he is almost blind, skinny and pale.
i hear screems from the house behind me as we walk out in the woods. i dident look back, i dont want to see the house again,
for 5 days i walk, my baby is walking behind me, he dosent hurt me, i dont know why but he maby have somthing in hes
head that is a litle human anyway, i falldown, my feet is bleeding from the walk, i make a camp and stay. maby i stay
in the years to come i build me a house, not a big but i just sleep in it, nothing more.
i learn to hunt, not animals but humans, they taste beter.
i use the beasts in the woods, smal skinny beasts whit more jaws then flesh.
humans seem scared of them so i get em to run were i want them HAHAHA it seems that i have got a sic thinking just like my
dear mother... who maby get ****ed still today if it is anything left from her rotting corpse.
iwe heard somone call my home for the Swamp of death... dont know why but i dont like the name...
anyway, the strange thing is when i kill in my swamp, maby normal but what do i know...
they always seem to know my name... every time they say it when i hunt em, kill em, or torture them...
one day i hunted a tal man whos name still is Baltazar, he dident ewen see me cus i was
hiding from him untill the time was right to kill. he wispered a name in the dark
i dident kill him. he did say a difrent name,
the name my dad had for me, i needed to know who this man was! i was hungry but i had to know! i asked him why he
was in this swamp at night, but he dident tell me why, he just asked me if i had a camp he culd sit in untill
the red sun was rising again.
he sat down and made me feel good in a strange way that night...
we prayed to Set and drank varm water whit herbs from the swamp i have found,
well the most i have found was on the travelers that have pased this place when me and my baby have been hungry.
in the morning he asked me to join hes traveling to the big cities,
i had never been in a city... i started walking whit him! whit my child still hiding in the woods...
when i get the ansver i dont know, but i will walk the line and listen what he says in hes sleep in the nights,
my sisor wont rust for a wile but i hope he tells me soon cus i have a child i need to return to...
i hear him screeming my name from outside the city walls at night...
Mother Kali: Age and Hate
I wake up, is it day or night?...
many years have i spend in this hell hole now...
my mind have started to play trix whit me i think...
this big town have been my home now... i dont even know if i like it...
i dont even remember how, how my old house looked like,
guesing on worse than this basement i live in now,
i think i have get used to the smell now... no maby not... must take the old bodys to the river one day...
i dont want to have trubble, i dont want mutch...
*looks up tru the soted window* *none outside*
my clotes is in a pile in the corner of the room, they smell like this room now, death and eter.
it feels like i inhale sulfur, i slowly put on my clothes, it is the only thing that is mine...
exept my old book... yes my ritual book... my mothers book...
i am screeming as loud as i can!
there, feels mutch beter now...
i cut my self on the legs so i whuld wakeup, dosent feel beter from it but
i have started to move more and feel that i will wake up soon...
i walk out, never sun where i walk, i like the smal back strets in this town, many people have i
vomit my hate on here...
soon will none walk here exept me i think... have heard storys about me from outside the basement
a few times, and now i only see big men walking that strets,
i need a wagon, i know a vendor who have one... but all i have is my clothes.
i walk in to hes shop, a old hag stands before me in the shop,
i hope im not that old yet... she looks sic.
she says good evening to me, i dont say anything back to her,
i just look her in the eyes and fill her whit fear, yes i feel and see the fear running up her spine,
maby cus i hold a dagger in my hand or maby cus i am pressing it to the old women so hard
that it goes in her guts... i hold her right hand in mine as i kill her. i love when they die silent.
...no i dont love...
the wagon stands on the back side of the shop,
i need it to get all roting cadavers out from the basement if i will stay there any longer.
as i walk to my place i see candle lights tru my windows, who the HELL is in there?!
i try to se tru the soted windows but i just cant see, i feel how my hate takes me over,
my claws is pressing in to my hands,
*a drop of blood hits the ground*
i can hear it faling, my torso feels like its burning and freezing at the same time.
i look down and see my hands is full of frost and blood.
silent i go down to my basement, the door is open a litle,
i look in whitout going in there, the corpses is crushed as mud all over the floor,
a dark figure sits in the corner where my clothes ones was laying...
i see it is eating soundly on one of the almost decomposed bodys
*i open the door more and walk in*
the man trows away the half eaten head and stands up,
-is it you? can it be? Samnu? my child?!...
the man stares at me and druel some dark blood on the floor,
the man yells and slams hes big hammer at the wall,
*pieces of the roof falls down and a thick fog turns the room gray*
i tell him to calm down, and walks up to him,
-Samnu my child... how can this be? so many years i thought you was dead...
and here you are, in my home... how did you know?
-i dident. *he told me*
i stand right infront of him and looks at hes deep scar over hes face and hes black eyes.
he must be about 3 times my sise and looks strong as a rhino.
we just stand there and stare... until!
hes hand takes a fast hold of my left lung,
i just let him... if he wants me dead i give my life to him...
i feel some of my ribs crack ¤ ¤ ¤
then he trows me to the floor and walks out in the now dark time of the day...
i stay silent on the floor that night...
smiling for the first time ever...
Mother Kali: -Rituals of honor-
the sun is shining in tru my soted windows again...
i hate the sun,
i try to sleep on the days and wake up when it is darker...
but it is hard some times.
my body hurts, i hate my body...
why do some people say that life is a blessing, when life is all pain and suffering...
wonder if all have a life just like mine, or if i just had bad luck whit mine...
no... i think all suffer as me some times tru life...
well from what Set tells me in my dreams i think some people suffer alot more than i will ever do.
well... i make them suffer more than i have, i think it is this that makes me feel beter whit my own
hell that im in.
*i turn around and look straight at the wall,*
my bed and room smells hard and awfull when the sun heats up my home...
i vomit down on the ground from the bed... i think im sic...
hope i dont die yet, i dont want to die like this in my bed,
Set have told me when i will die and i will try to stay alive untill that moment...
honor the gods tellings.
i dont want him to be mad at me... plz dont be mad at me.
-i will try, i will do my best Set! i will make it, dont be mad at me.
my dreams have been harder and harder lately...
Set pushes me to do alot of things every night now... not normal things at all.
and i dont know how mutch more i can take now.
*hits her self in the face over and over*
stop this thinking now!!! he hears my toughts!!!
i must get ready... the sun is going down again...
i tell the man who i nailed upside down on my wall to close hes eyes.
-your suffer will end to day...
i will make you sleep and forget your life now. *i tell him.*
he have been silent for 3 whole days now... i think...
well i did take my sisor in to hes mouth when he screemed that day when he got up on my wall.
i know what this man have done wrong in life,Set told me.
and i have told him that every day.
so he knows, and maby accept the outcome of hes painfull end now.
many things have i done to this man now and now Set have told me that he will die from the lich ritual
that i think he loves to see me do now...
well it was a long time ago but i remember it as yesturday.
the dreams after that rituals always make me feel good and calm.
i meditate for a while and try to pull my slaves to me again... many years ago that i have seen em now.
i hear them, they travle underground.
they are under me now, i can hear how they screams and twist around in a pile under the floor...
it sounds weard, i think its more of em now, i think they are to many. by Set... how can this be?
i take a hammer and try to get the dirty floor opend up for them,
sic twisted magot eaten cadavers walks up from the dirty ground in to my home.
i see the man on the wall looks on us like a mad man...
-DONT LOOK AT ME!
i try to take out hes eyes all tho he is trying to close em now.
its a mess... i put the eyes on the floor under him, and make em look down.
i cant breath, i must go out from here, just for a litle while.
i walk up from the basement and inhale the night air...
this town feels strange now days. all have big locks on the doors and guard dogs in many homes...
people fear the destiny so mutch that they can kill em self just so they dont need to think about death.
scared weak people... they sicens me.
*CRASH* a window is smached from the inside of my home!
i rush down and slams the door behind me.
by Set by Set... he is dead... they killed him!
they have riped him to pices, and draged him around in the whole room it looks like...
-SET WANTED HIM TO DIE FROM THE LICH RITUAL YOU MAGOTS!
he will make me pay for this... oh my god, he will make me pay.
i hack the slaves to pieces in the most angry way i have ever killed anything.
it takes me the whole night to kill em all, and i dont think all is fully dead yet.
...yes, the sun is up again...
what in the darkest hell do i see?!
a child is looking in tru my cracked window!
... i wave to the cute child. she seems scared of me and rushes of.
whit out thinking i rushes out after her.
not many people out now so i see where she run.
its an smal house at the outskirts of the town...
i sit down close to the house and looks at it, my fingers turns frosty when i think about what to do
about this smal family who knows what the smal girl have seen,
i know this cus i see em look at me tru the window and have fear in there eyes...
i walk up to the door and walks inside...
-Set wants you to suffer and become slaves to him this morning *i shout out as i enter*
Origin story for my characters, reprised from Cult of Outlaws private forum:
Where are you ye owd *******?
Gripping the battlements of the tower wall until her knuckles blanched with the effort, the blonde Cimmerian woman, cast a statuesque figure of strength and beauty. Staring out over Mordenaar's environs Wulfhilde imagined her estranged spouse Maddogh festering at the bottom of the swamp, having fallen in on his way home to the city after another drunken night with his cronies in the Outlaw camp.
Months had passed since he had left Conarch village to go help in the building of the city that was now her only home. She remained to bring up her children without their father, who was most likely to be found carousing with wenches of the tavern, even in his native Cimmeria. The last she heard he was either seen following some Aquilonian whore like a lost mongrel or even rumoured to have met his end searching for some ancient Pyramid on some accursed expedition to darkest Stygia.
At the urging of her brother Ghror, a shaman in the Cult, she had left Conarch village and travelled with her children on one of the slave ships leaving the Barachan Isles that provided the Outlaw's labour. She went as no slave but as a battle maiden of Aesir heritage, to join the thick of the fighting wherever she was needed. Her offspring were spirited away by the Cult's minions to follow the paths set for them and brought up to serve unquestioningly.Through the force of many battles Wulfhilde had proved her worth and surpassed the rowdy Maddogh to receive honour and glory among her fellows.
On this balmy summer's eve she was to induct another into the Cult, a Stygian mage no less. Chewing on the remains of a Black Lotus leaf, her thoughts filled with dreamy images, she ruminated over what kind of man used the ways of magic to achieve power. Absently she drew her bejewelled short sword from it's scabbard and imagined drawing it across the wizard's throat.
In the distance she could see a party of grim looking figures emerging from the treeline and descended the tower calling to a guard patrol to accost the travellers. The guard captain duly allowed the travellers entry and gave a shout:
"The necromance Xhul of Khemi wishes audience with you milady."
As she surveyed the mage, a sharp twang of fear struck her to the very soul, his companions were no mere soft Stygian slave girls, but eight shambling corpses that made a mockery of humanity, some in an advanced state of decomposition. More fearful than those with open bellies that displayed rotting organs was one that seemed fresher than the rest: a tall dark haired zombie that bore the countenance of a warrior. Above one eye was a distinctive scar, one that she had made herself when spurning a raider's advances in times long past. Her jaw dropped open and she gasped in horror:
"Maddogh?! Crom's blood even ye deserved better than this!"
The wizened tattoed countenance of Xhul grinned evilly as he mockingly bowed and gave praise to Set.
She went outside and sank down on the hard stones. Why would he have to be so stubborn? He had always been stubborn; guess it why she was still here. But this meant so much for her; it was not just some small issue. It was life and death, honour and betrayal. She had felt bad when she decided for Silvara to have her cleansed and blessed. And it might not have been all what Silvara had wanted back then, but she had come to her and asked for a solution. Told her how she did not want to love Akselvee, how she felt torn between Zackita, Imoteph, Akselvee and those pesky Fergals. Beside it had turned out so well. Silvara had become a true believer, she was touched by Set. Imoteph said she was a holy vessel, a sanctified and truly blessed girl. And if said something like that, it was true.
Why could not Ozric be proud of her? She had worked hard to make this happen, and now he worked so hard to tear it all down. Could he not see the light? Take pride and joy in her work and success?
Two days earlier he had promised her she could ask anything. Not only once but several times, he said he would do anything for her. How could this not be part of those oaths?
She had asked him twice to let her go. And both times he refused. Was not those oaths bound to her own oaths. She had told him yes when he proposed, was her answer not tied to those oats. Did she dare to put it all on this, her life with him? If she made him fold she would hurt him, did he not fold all his honour would be gone, his promises and oats blown with the wind. How could she ever trust him, if his words meant nothing?
For if she folded, and they truly desecrated her then she had no friend. Zackita could not be friend with the Fergals, not while they wanted Imotephs head, not in this life. They should all bow to the prophet, his name be sacred. But no, they war on him, spy on him, like those infidels they are. She remembers every single Menfyt she had lost to them, their names and faces was stuck in her mind. They had met their faith on her orders; it would never be fair to them to just forgive. The hatred for them was much too strong. The day all Fergals were dead could not come soon enough.
And knowing now their evil plan: To pull apart her dearest friend. Could she just let it go? For every action she now knew and did not act on was treason. Treason to her best friend, treason to Imoteph, treason to Set and treason to herself. Imoteph might forgive Silvaras treason, but he would not forgive hers, she would have nowhere to run. How could she even consider this? How could she make Ozric see?
It was like her darkest nightmare come true. Her soul mate, her heart descries were working so hard to ruin everything she stood for. Not only had he kidnapped Silvara her very best friend, tied her down and let her sit and stink in the cave for days. He had shot Zackita down when she tried to rescue, so full of arrows she was sure she would have died. Saved by Silvara yet again, had she not summoned the serpent and power of Set, she would have been dead for sure. This nightmare took no end. He wanted to do some Cimmerian spirit ritual on Silvara, to drive set out of her. Zackita was convinced it would leave here without her best friend.
And did any of them ask Silvara what she wanted, no. Zackita should not talk to high about this, she had not asked herself. But when they judged Zackita on her actions, they should judge them self and see what hypocrites they are. She could at least stand for her actions with pride.
Did she dare to play so high a game? She could fold herself. Close her eyes and wish it all to go away. Or she could cry her heart out; let him see how much his actions hurt.
In the winning pot she had her best friend, her husband, her husband’s honour and her own betrayal of the Prophet. Could she win it all?
She whipped her chin for tears as she prayed to Set, formed the snakehead over her head and walked back inside.