rkade8583
Realism Invictus Player
"I am an infection of peace!"
The young chief thrashed about in his bed as this horrible vision of sleep continued. It was change. It was unfamiliar. It was a usurper!
"I am NOT a usurper. I am only attempting to give your people glory."
Never, the chief thought! His body was his own and his tribe was his to rule! A mere dream, this mere dream, would not make him succumb!
"I am sorry but you will cease to be as you are. We will meet again when the time has come."
---
The days of change, that's what the tribe would remember it as. The days that death of their own was no longer necessary, when rape was abolished, when stability and a new way of life was started. The days, his enemies said, when the Gods, themselves, cursed them.
The chief awoke from his dream utterly calm. His eyes and mind were fixed, as one, to the rooftop of his hut. Tomorrow, he thought, this will cease to be. He wiped his hand across his field of vision to visualize it and suddenly smiled. He heard his people at work. He heard wild birds chirping and they warmed him for what he was to do today. He sat up in his bed, did a strange ritual of exercises, and dressed himself. As he walked toward the opening of his hut, he folded his hands and pulled outward, popping his knuckles. He then pushed his neck from side to side, popping it. Punching his jaw with both hands and squaring his shoulders, he walked out to his people.
His fourth wife, almost young enough to be his daughter, was the one who saw the first stirrings. Her husband was not this way! He woke up and assaulted her or her first-sisters or he scratched himself. He was a slob and a fool... but this man was different. He appeared to not even see him and the noises he made with his body were made by warriors when they prepared to hunt. He held himself differently, indeed by all accounts he was a completely different person. These reasonings from this observant woman were the reason that her and her unborn son, who she talked to every day, were not as startled as the rest of her tribe.
"What is this unintelligible gibberish?" Petyr asked?
"I do not know but it may be a message from the Gods for us to take action" his friend and ally, Dahvid.
The two of them had been planning to strong-arm the chief to allow them access to his harem, the best of the best of nubile and pleasing women. Two of them, they reasoned, would be able to do such a thing as the chief was getting up in years and his harem was far larger than any one man could hope for. Tonight, they agreed, before the chief's plan could be put to effect.
'Curses! They can't understand me' the man who used to be the lecherous chief thought to himself. 'How could I not have planned for this?'
Seeing that he was getting nowhere with the elders, he turned to the children and beckoned them come. He then took a stick and began to draw pictures. The pictures and the acknowledgment by a man they feared and respected, drew them forward. He intimated that he would have them explain the ideas put forth to the older tribesmen. Nodding their assent, he began his work.
<For life eternal, our people have traveled from one place to the next, following the animals that sustain us. We must stop this and settle somewhere permanently! If we do this, we can send our hunters out but keep our women and children in a specified place. Hunters, warriors, and laborers can move quicker than an entire tribe. Runners can bring us our food. Our lives will be much improved by this. This is the first step to a much improved life. Follow me to greatness and glory!>
The children, using their lesser vocabularies and youthful innocence of the storms of change, told the adults this thing that the chief had written down. Their faces masked their true feelings but outwardly, they assented. He's the chief, they told the children, so he can do what he will of us. The children enjoyed playing the messenger to their confused chief and drew simplistic pictures explaining what was said. 'Good,' the usurper thought, 'even though they're resistant, they won't question me too much in this, not openly at least.' In pictograph, he said to his youthful translators that they would begin the search tomorrow. He ordered the children to find the people with the best eyes and report to him their names. He did the same thing with those of strong build and then he asked a question that made the children fall over laughing.
<Who are we?>
After the laughter over such a strange question had abated, the children tapped themselves and then pointed at him as if to say, we are yours. The chief considered this for some time. He then punched his chest and said "German!" He repeated this and then waved his hand to signify the entire tribe and shouted "GERMAN" at the top of his lungs, thus telling the world that these were the Germans.
---
A stone's sharpening before the first light, Dahvid and Petyr quietly grabbed their clubs from their resting spots and started the short walk to the chief's hut. The hut was a good ten paces from any of the other huts. The chief liked privacy when he had his women, they snickered. Maybe they too could gain access to that hut while they took turns with his women. The thought alone put fire in Dahvid's loins. Seeing his excitement, Petyr tapped Dahvid on the head with his club, silently telling him to keep his head to the task. Calming down, they reached the hut and looked in. All of the chief's women were at their lesser huts this night. It was just him, asleep in his sleeping area. The two assailants smiled to themselves. This, they thought, would be easy! They tapped the chief awake with their clubs and started talking in low voices to him. They wanted his women and his hut! He would leave or they would kill him! What happened next, Petry would remember for his entire life. Due to the moon being so full that night, when the chief had turned around, Petyr had seen his eyes and he noticed they had changed color from dirt to the color of the sky and they were fixed on Dahvid and him with a fury never seen before. This was not the chief, Petyr thought.
He was awakened by cold wood being jabbed, unceremoniously, into his ribs. Sniffing the air, he deduced it was around four-thirty in the morning. He brushed his graying blond hair out of his eyes, turned over and looked at his attackers. One was all hot blood and barely-concealed lust. The other had a more cold demeanor. Suddenly the hot-blooded one started spouting off in a language he was unfamiliar with but with nuances understood. These men meant him harm. Maybe it was his plan. Maybe they were going to kill him to halt the change. They would not be so lucky! Sitting up slowly, he motioned acquiescence and stood to his feet. With palms out, he looked the vision of innocence. The hot-blooded man smiled smugly and elbowed his partner in the arm as if to say 'see? Easy,' and that's when the chief struck. With the heel of his palm, he hit the burly warrior in the face, breaking his nose with an audible crunch and causing him to drop his club as he cupped his nose. The cold one backed away slowly and the chief picked up the massive club with relative ease. He then took a tremendous swing at the hot-blooded assailant and knocked his head sideways, breaking his neck and killing him. He turned with icy fury in his eyes to the second one but he had dropped his club and fell to his knees. 'These actions must not be like the original host,' the usurper thought. He pointed to the cold seeming man and motioned for him to leave. The man positively scrambled out of the hut and the chief laughed heartily and proceeded to do his morning exercises.
---
When first light dawned, Petyr was still in his hut, going over in his mind what had transpired. That man, whoever he was, killed his friend quickly and efficiently, much more so than any warrior he knew could have. His hot-blooded friend, little more than a bully really, would not be missed but he had questions he wanted to ask this man. How had he taken over the chief? Why did he look so much like the chief? Why did the man not kill him, instead deigning him leave? Was his harem so important? No, he thought, this was a man who did not think with his middle leg. He turned to leave his hut and almost ran into the very man he was thinking about. Falling to his behind, the man felt like walking into a mountain, he looked up at the long blonde hair and beard... and those eyes. He seemed younger, Petyr thought, than the chief. There was no gray in hsi hair or beard and his skin was not so wrinkled as the old lecher. Bowing down belatedly, he hoped with all his mind and heart that the man was not here to kill him.
'What a shrewd fellow,' thought the usurper, 'he's noticed his chief is looking younger and I can tell he's been thinking about last night's meeting. Good.'
He bent over to the bowed man and pulled him up not unkindly. Pointing to the ground, he began drawing figures in the ground. He beckoned Petyr to respond in kind;
<Why did you attack me last night>
<We wanted the chief's women for ourselves.>
<You know I'm not the chief.>
<Who are you?>
<I am your new chief.>
<Where did you come from?>
<Beyond.>
<Are you a God?>
<No. I am like you but I am more.>
<What do you mean?>
<Time will not harm me as it does you. I have a plan for you people.>
<Why us? Why not another tribe?>
<Why not? I saw a man ruling over a tribe. I decided to take him out and lead you all myself.>
<Will you kill me for trying to attack you?>
<You didn't. Your friend did.>
<What would you do to me?>
<You will be my mouth. You will be my eyes among this people. Your children will be thought of as Gods. You must do this one thing, however.>
<What is it.>
<You must agree to a test of faith.>
<You are a mighty man. Better than any warrior I have seen. I will follow you.>
'Good. He will do,' thought the usurper, smiling to himself.
---
The coronation of the new chief was a thing to behold! The bones of Dahvid were were made into a sort of hat for the new chief and Petyr had the honor of putting the crown upon his head. The chief, in turn, put a band of Dahvid's hair on Petyr's left arm. He then took Dahvid's club and with one mighty strike, destroyed Petyr's last two fingers on his left hand. The scream of pain that Petyr let out would haunt the tribe's collective dreams for a fortnight but it was shown that this new leader and his new apprentice would lead the tribe, some thought, to glory. Poulticing the wound and sawing off the broken appendages, the women tended Petyr's hand as he started to speak.
"This is not the chief! This is a new chief, a better chief! I saw his power and I know his will! I have taken these sacrifices of my hand and life in order to serve Him! He beckoned us make a... settlement... and I believe he speaks good wisdom. Those who desire change and peace, follow us! Those who cling to the old ways of power and pain, leave us now. You are not welcome in our... civilization. As dedication to our tribe, our new leader will sacrifice of himself as I have."
Petyr turned to his chief and nodded. the chief then took a sharp rock in each hand and stabbed out his eyes. Women screamed, men cringed, and children cried. All of them clutched their own eyes so none of them saw what happened. Petyr, knowing what was to come, kept his eyes open and was witness to it. The chief's eye sockets grew larger to accommodate the rocks and then he pulled out the rocks with his destroyed eyes attached to them. The tribe was too panicked to grasp it but they heard the rocks go in. They heard the eyes pop. They heard the rocks being removed. They did not hear a man scream. Slowly they began to open their eyes, one by one, to see Petyr put a stitched skin headband over the chief's destroyed sockets and the chief suddenly shout out
"GERMANY!!!"
A great cheer rose out of the crowd. This new chief was doubtlessly immortal! Nobody could take that kind of pain without even an ounce of pain!
---
"My head screamed with agony at the pain. Luckily I had prepared myself with a numbing agent so the pain, while intense, was detached. Luckily none of them had seen the glazed look in my eyes when I had walked out. Only Petyr was that observant. This should prove to those people that I mean to lead them. Simple people require simple gestures but I don't plan for these people to be simple for long... well not too long in my own lifespan."
The Watcher's Book - The Time Before
---
"Peter, we need to found a settlement. I was intending to do that today, after all."
The Watcher, as he was named, had learned the language in an amazing amount of time. His pronunciation was off but Petyr was pleased that he was the one who taught him.
"I know, Watcher, but we can not decide whether to have the settlement on the hill or closer to the ocean."
"We? It is up to me to decide once I have heard the advice from the people. What have you found?"
"They say it will allow easier access to fishing and we will be able to use that for food.'
"Indeed. And those for the hill?"
"They say that it would provide us a natural advantage to any that would dare take our settlement."
"What do you think, Peter?"
"I think that our survival as a... civilization, should be paramount for our settlement. It should be the center of us. We should be able to look in the distance upon our prized gem at any place in the world. Besides, we can build huts for the fishermen. Most of them are older and would appreciate it, besides."
"I concur with you. Make it so."
"Thank you, Watcher. What shall we name this place?"
"David, after your hot-blooded friend, to remind the people not to think with their... third leg," The Watcher smirked. "Oh that is such a clever saying. I love it so! Do not feel disheartened, Peter. Your children are coming along nicely, why not send the boys to look around. designate one as a runner and you will see what I meant earlier about the world we live in."
"Yes Watcher. It will be as you say."
---
