Saint Rising
Metal Monster
So yes, I am writing a story! Woo! Actually, its not that uncommon. I write them all the time, just without Civ IV being a factor. Anyways, I decided to do Sitting Bull because it seems he isn't used much. ^^; So yes, before you read, I'm a huge nerd. Sci-fi fans might get a kick out of this. Enjoy!
EDIT: Also, my keyboard is slightly messed up and will sometimes insert an extra t when I hit that button. It shouldn't show up in the actual story, but it might in any notes (OR THE TOPIC TITLE, GRR) that I put on the thread.
Long had Sitting Bull been the chieften of his people. Since his father, Wise Buffalo, had died, he had bravely lead the nomadic Native Americans. For as long as any of them could remember, they had wandered the land. Soon, though, it was prophesized by Great Owl, the High Shaman, that their nomadic ways would end. Great Owl was right, too…
One silent night, Sitting Bull could not sleep. He found it strange that he couldn’t. There were no barking dogs, no chatting people, no howling wolves, and no chanting heard from Great Owl’s tent. On any other night like this, Sitting Bull would have been asleep a long time ago. Something was strange tonight, though. He couldn’t quite figure it out, though.
Sighing, he decided to take a walk outside of the camp. For hours he walked. Through the forests, through the plains, and through the marshes. “This land is beautiful,” he said to himself, as stood on the bank of a flowing river.
Suddenly, a huge flash of light appeared in front of him. His eyes wide in terror, Sitting Bull looked around for a place to hide. Spotting a bush, he ducked into it. Peering through its leaves, he studied the light which had now turned into a large blue box. Scowling, Sitting Bull gripped his Tomahawk.
The box opened up, and out of it stepped a pale man, with extremely strange clothing on. “He must be a dishonor to his people…” Sitting Bull thought, looking at his extremely short hair.
The pale man looked around. “Oh, I could have sworn this is where he was going to be…” he said.
“Who do you speak of?” Sitting Bull asked, without leaving his bush.
“Ahh, there you are!” the newcomer said. “Sitting Bull, yes? Leader of the Native Americans?”
Sitting Bull frowned. “That is me. Who are you?”
“I am The Doctor.”
“Like a Witch Doctor?”
“No, just The Doctor! Now, could you please come out? I have some rather important things to talk to you about.”
Still distrustful of this albino, Sitting Bull slowly emerged from the bush, still tightly gripping his tomahawk. “What do you want, The Doctor?”
“I want your tribe to settle. Here.” The Doctor said, spreading his arms. “Your shaman prophesized you settling, and this is the perfect place.”
Sitting Bull was amazed. This pale outsider knew that his people were destined to stop moving, and he even suggested a place to settle. “Why should I trust you?” Sitting Bull asked. “You are pale, you are dressed strangely, and you do not smell as my people do.”
The Doctor just smiled. “Trust me or not, this is the best place. Now, I must be off! Goodbye!” with that, The Doctor jumped back into his box.
“Wait!” Sitting Bull shouted. It was too late, for the great box was already changing into a bright flash of light. In a few seconds, it was gone. Sitting Bull sighed. He sat down in the grass, and rubbed his hand against the cold, dew stricken blades. It was green and healthy. The land was obviously very fertile. In the distance, he heard the calls of the great cows that had long fed his people, as well the squeals of the pigs that his people considered a rare treat. “Perhaps this is the best place…” he murmured. With that, he stood up, eager to go back to his tribe and tell them what had happened.
EDIT: Also, my keyboard is slightly messed up and will sometimes insert an extra t when I hit that button. It shouldn't show up in the actual story, but it might in any notes (OR THE TOPIC TITLE, GRR) that I put on the thread.
Prologue
The Doctor’s Visit
The Doctor’s Visit
Long had Sitting Bull been the chieften of his people. Since his father, Wise Buffalo, had died, he had bravely lead the nomadic Native Americans. For as long as any of them could remember, they had wandered the land. Soon, though, it was prophesized by Great Owl, the High Shaman, that their nomadic ways would end. Great Owl was right, too…
One silent night, Sitting Bull could not sleep. He found it strange that he couldn’t. There were no barking dogs, no chatting people, no howling wolves, and no chanting heard from Great Owl’s tent. On any other night like this, Sitting Bull would have been asleep a long time ago. Something was strange tonight, though. He couldn’t quite figure it out, though.
Sighing, he decided to take a walk outside of the camp. For hours he walked. Through the forests, through the plains, and through the marshes. “This land is beautiful,” he said to himself, as stood on the bank of a flowing river.
Suddenly, a huge flash of light appeared in front of him. His eyes wide in terror, Sitting Bull looked around for a place to hide. Spotting a bush, he ducked into it. Peering through its leaves, he studied the light which had now turned into a large blue box. Scowling, Sitting Bull gripped his Tomahawk.
The box opened up, and out of it stepped a pale man, with extremely strange clothing on. “He must be a dishonor to his people…” Sitting Bull thought, looking at his extremely short hair.
The pale man looked around. “Oh, I could have sworn this is where he was going to be…” he said.
“Who do you speak of?” Sitting Bull asked, without leaving his bush.
“Ahh, there you are!” the newcomer said. “Sitting Bull, yes? Leader of the Native Americans?”
Sitting Bull frowned. “That is me. Who are you?”
“I am The Doctor.”
“Like a Witch Doctor?”
“No, just The Doctor! Now, could you please come out? I have some rather important things to talk to you about.”
Still distrustful of this albino, Sitting Bull slowly emerged from the bush, still tightly gripping his tomahawk. “What do you want, The Doctor?”
“I want your tribe to settle. Here.” The Doctor said, spreading his arms. “Your shaman prophesized you settling, and this is the perfect place.”
Sitting Bull was amazed. This pale outsider knew that his people were destined to stop moving, and he even suggested a place to settle. “Why should I trust you?” Sitting Bull asked. “You are pale, you are dressed strangely, and you do not smell as my people do.”
The Doctor just smiled. “Trust me or not, this is the best place. Now, I must be off! Goodbye!” with that, The Doctor jumped back into his box.
“Wait!” Sitting Bull shouted. It was too late, for the great box was already changing into a bright flash of light. In a few seconds, it was gone. Sitting Bull sighed. He sat down in the grass, and rubbed his hand against the cold, dew stricken blades. It was green and healthy. The land was obviously very fertile. In the distance, he heard the calls of the great cows that had long fed his people, as well the squeals of the pigs that his people considered a rare treat. “Perhaps this is the best place…” he murmured. With that, he stood up, eager to go back to his tribe and tell them what had happened.
I think I'll enjoy this but...
It won't be continued...
