Stonewall Jackson, the Forsaken One (American Mod)

Chapter 1: Stonewall Jackson, the Forsaken One



I have grown tired, oh so tired with this life of mine, yet I seem cursed to live it yet longer. Jackson's pen scratched on the paper. I wish only for eternal slumber at this point and fear I may not get it. Before my death though, I feel urged to write down my story, lest it be forgotten. May God be kind in his judgement of me.

It was so long ago that I had first gone out on my own, just me and a small group of settlers willing to try and make something out of the terrain that had long supported our nomadic ancestors. We wandered for many years, trying to find the perfect spot to sustain or civilization. We did not find the perfect spot, far from it in fact. However, the spot would have to do. We found to our west pigs and the southern border of our settlement was marked by a river. It was idyllic enough, yet the surrounding area seemed subpar after exploring some more. Had we only know ahead of time, we would have walked farther, but that was not in our minds or written on the soles of our aching feet. Jackson scratched his head and bit the end of his pen. In any case, we settled on that spot and founded the city of Richmond, named after our former leader, who had previously died of a lung disease.



Jackson sipped some water and paced the room a bit, trying to recall what had happened so long ago.

Then, I believe I tasked my people with devising tools to dig into the hills around us. They did this in short order, and I smiled proudly upon them, whom I regarded as family. Then, I tasked them to tame the wild boars to the west. My people happily complied and soon the boars had lost their tusks and became docile creatures.



Jackson slapped his head, he had forgotten to explain how he had come to call the shots.

My leadership in this community seemed to always exist, I had founded the settling party and hired protection for us. From the beginning I had some measure on influence. There was, however, a power struggle within our group. It was me versus Robert E. Lee, a fantastic general, yet I was able to use the fear of God to coerce the people to obey me over Lee. After that, there was no issue over succession, as it seemed as though I was blessed with immortality and invulnerability. I now realize this was not a blessing, but a curse. Why has God forsaken me? Only he knows, I have done nothing against him, yet he curses me with immortality and fails to provide a reason why. Perhaps he is dead or has simply forgotten, but I do hope that he realize that my life should have ended long ago.

Jackson's temper flared the reminder of his curse. He threw the journal against the wall, scattering many loose pages in the process. Jackson picked the pages up again and smoothed them out, then continued writing.

In any case, I had then tasked my people with building a large monument to me, yet they could not move the materials with simple sleds. My greatest engineers talked and developed the wheel, the monument was built. I look upon it as one of my vainest moments, and now is certainly one of my least proud moments, as it was a precursor to my usage of labor in the future.



Jackson put the pen down. He couldn't concentrate for too long anymore these days on account of his old age. He turned off the lights and went to bed, forgetting nearly everything he had written in the process. He had dreams that night of dying and going to heaven. However, when he arrived nobody was there, it was deserted and silent.

"God, where are you? Why have you forsaken me?"

Jackson we greeted with only silence.

Subbed... this looks very promising!

Chapter 2: Of Chains and Shackles

Jackson awoke with a start, he was sweating profusely and shivering uncontrollably. He wrapped a blanket around himself and sat down to write again.

"Where was I, oh yes, the monument" he muttered to himself.

I had grown greedy very quickly, the monument was not enough, I wanted more built and I wanted it built faster. I made my people work with various metals, promising to use them to improve agriculture with metal plows. This was never my intention, I was looking for a metal with which I could make shackles. I planned on enslaving my population. When we finally did find Bronze, I immediately had shackles made and slavery became widespread. I am ashamed at how I had acted back then, I was young and full of Macbethian ambition. I look back on those days as my worst as a human being, although the empire flourished under the longstanding lash of slavery.



I looked out on the land near us and decided it was time to expand. I used slaves to create a settling party, which founded Mobile to the south of Richmond, it was a fairly good city, I suppose. But that doesn't really matter, let me explain a bit more about our slave system. Our slave system put the lower classes at extreme risk to become slaves, the upper classes bought and sold people at their leisure, splitting families. We weren't unusually harsh on them, and gave them a small salary if they had family to support and had sold themselves into slavery to pay for food. More often than not, the slaves actually lived fairly long lives. Yet all this is rationalization for the atrocities of slavery. I myself owned between 50 and 100 slaves at a time, mostly for housework, although some were concubines. As I said before, these were not my proudest days.



Soon after the founding of Mobile, I met another leader of a far off tribe, named Edgar Allan Poe, an author, he said he was. The first meeting was fairly amicable and since then, I believe he has faded into obscurity. He was noted for one thing, Buddhism, he founded Buddhism at some point and adopted it as his state religion, for some strange reason.



Jackson set down the pen as a headache came over him. He stumbled to his sink and got himself a glass of water, with shaky hands he sipped it and stumbled over the couch, falling hard on the beaten in cushions. He was knocked unconscious and dreamed vivid dreams yet again.

Jackson walked along a glittering road, seemingly paved with a metal more brilliant than gold. There were grandiose houses on either side of him, yet all were dark. A dark cloud formed and began to pour terrible, dark rain, staining everything it touched. The street of gold became one of mud and the grandiose houses became dilapidated shacks. Jackson looked around furiously yet the darkness encroached ever further towards him, engulfing him completely. He cried out to God, and still there was no answer.

Another great chapter! I am surprised more people aren't here...

trexeric said:

Another great chapter! I am surprised more people aren't here...

Click to expand...

That's because I have clearly made this an indie storytelling hit...or something. Soon people will come and you can proclaim that you were reading it before anybody else.

Almost done with playing the game and I think it's going to end just as I wanted to. Yay!

Looks cool. When's the next update?

Probably either today or tomorrow.

Chapter 3: Meeting the Neighbors

Jackson didn't recall waking up that day, but he did remember his dream in vivid detail, just thinking about it caused a shiver to run down his spine. He walked back to his desk and began once again to write.

Edgar Allen Poe approached me one day with an offer, he wanted to be able to pass units through my territory and would offer the same to me. I had no enemies at this time, and the offer was certainly innocuous enough, so I gladly accepted and went on my merry way.



However, my youthful vigor made me want more, ever so much more. Thus, I ordered the building of a new city, New Orleans, in a mountain pass. The fact that this was the best location I could find was not lost on me, as I realized that my surroundings weren't the most bountiful and wouldn't be for quite a long time. Nonetheless, I soon grew accustomed to clothing of wool rather than leathers and felt it made me appear more "civilized". I walked in these brilliant white clothes, looking down on all those still stuck with primitive hides. My vanity at this time had no limit, and I was content to let it run rampant.



Suddenly, Jackson developed a splitting headache and he lost his grip on his pen. He shakily stood up and got himself some medicine and a glass of water and waited for what seemed like hours for the pain to subside. Off in the distance he heard loud rumblings, as though the earth itself was in convulsion.

Then I soon met the despicable Charles Guiteau. This lad always had a crazy look in his eyes and it was backed by his murderous tendencies. I met him and tried to tiptoe around him, hoping to never have to face him except at the rear of an army. He would prove to be an annoyance and also the Devil in disguise. Can I say he murdered God? Maybe, but I feel there may have been another I can't remember.



Then I met Charlie's partner in crime and war alike, Cochise. He never came off as a very sophisticated man, wearing cowhides instead of fine wool. I laughed at him as he appeared to me, naked from the waist up, trying to appear serious. Clearly I made a terrible impression on him, as he would soon come to hate me and pester me continuously.



I can remember meeting only one more man about this time, the flamboyant and fierce Buffalo Bill Cody. With a name like that, he sure seemed to appreciate the finer things in life, namely golden coins. He and I did become quite good friends with a mixture of proximity and generous gifts. We had our wars along the way, but I think that conflict is crucial in creating friendships. At least, I thought that back then, now it seems as though war unsurprisingly is very bitter when on the losing side.



More grinding and groaning came from a distance and Jackson began to write faster.

My people were always resourceful and very able learners, so when I tasked my greatest scholars to devise a uniform alphabet, they quickly made progress and I approved it shortly thereafter. We knew that such organized script allowed us to write our ideas more efficiently and maybe even persuade our neighbors to give us their secrets in exchange.



Jackson's headache returned, throbbing and pounding the insides of his skull. He fell weakly to the floor, praying that this would be the time that he wouldn't get up. Soon, he was completely unconscious, yet still writhing in unseen agony as his dreams turned into nightmares and tormented him.

Subbed.

EDIT: Edited to make this not just a sub-post. Keep up the good work!

Interesting civs for your mod.

Chapter 4: A Nation Learns to Trade

I was so very cocky back then, I thought I was doing a favor to the world by being so "technologically advanced". Ha! Now I look at those advancements and find that they were incredibly primitive. We live in a world of gunpowder and machines, and I thought an alphabet was the greatest thing in the world. My how the times have changed. There was one day Norman Schwarzkopf entered my radar, and he soon wanted Pottery from me. I obliged, high on my ego, thinking that he would need the measly little bit of technology if he were ever to hope competing with me. How wrong could I possibly be?



Soon after meeting and trading with Stormin' Norman, as he came to be known, I met Anne Hutchinson. Really a kind lady, usually, she was occasionally demanding, but what strong woman isn't? We got off to a pretty good start I suppose, I gave her my knowledge of fishing, a small price, considering we were entirely landlocked and always would be. She, in return, gave us her people's knowledge of Hunting, which I don't think helped us a whole lot either. It seems to me like it was just a gift between neighbors, fairly worthless, but a nice gesture.



I then met Eli Whitney, who unknowingly perpetuated slavery with his cotton gin, poor guy. It always seemed like he actually had a pretty good future ahead of him, always focusing on production and technology, almost always on the bleeding edge of advancements. We've had our disagreements, but I'd consider us friends, but that's not saying much in this world where I have no friends any longer. We got off to a mutually beneficial start, I gave him writing in exchange for archery, which I thought was fairly biased towards him. Then again, I never liked sharing my advancements, being as cocky as I was. What I really wanted was to give him writing, so I could scam his knowledge of iron working off him by giving him the alphabet my scholars had developed. I laugh now, realizing that my love of war has led me to where I am today, a sorry state indeed.



Jackson got up, he felt a little better today, but the walls shook and the floor quaked and the rumblings that once seemed so far in the distance were now heard from all directions, and a bit closer too. The shaking of the floor caused Jackson to fall down, bruising his side. He was too old, too feeble, and he couldn't get up. He resigned himself to lie there until somebody came to help him up. Soon he was fast asleep from exhaustion.

Jackson looked around, he wasn't up in the clouds any longer. He was down on earth, looking at his glorious empire in its peak of glory. People bustled about the cities and all were happy in a time of peace. Jackson heard war drums and saw dark, demonic armies marching across his lands. The devil himself was at the helm, trying to entire Jackson to join him. As the armies crossed the landscape, they left behind a darkness that seeped into the ground and poisoned the people, spreading farther and faster than even the greatest forest fire. Darkness settled over all of Jackson's land and he was left stranded upon his rooftop, once again crying out to God.

"My dear, gracious God, why have you forgotten me in my time of need?" he cried out, pouring his soul into the universe.

As if in response, the wind picked up and a storm rolled in. Against the lashing rain, Jackson once again shouted.

"I thought that I was your chosen! Why have you sent upon me the forces of darkness? Why won't you speak to me through my finest prophets? Why, God, why?"

Chapter 5: A Meeting with the Devil

My plan had worked, in giving Whitney writing, he was soon willing to give me his knowledge of iron tools and weapons to my people in exchange for our alphabet! What a deal we got! I was excited until I realized that we didn't have any iron within our borders, a problematic revelation to say the least, when all I wanted was to go conquer like some terrible war hero. I was so stupid back then, as I've said before and will definitely say again.



Then, Anne Hutchinson asked me, beseeched me to give her my knowledge of sailing. Of all things she wanted sailing, something I could get no use of and would not harm me by giving it to her. And yet, I still told her that it was too high a price, that it was my country's technology and asked her exactly why we should give it to her. Anne, being the meek person she is, just stood there with her head bowed down, clearly humbled by my unfounded anger. I ruined my chances with her that day, and set a precedent of declining to give anybody anything at all for free. This, by the way, is not a great way to make friends, as I found out before long.



About this time I had become simply, dreadfully bored by our current knowledge of the way the world worked. We had numbers, but no way to use them, no calculations to savor. Naturally, back then, I thought it would be good for organizing regiments and calculating numerical advantages. So, I once again forced my scholars to drop everything they had been doing in order to discover the secrets of the numbers, mathematics. Soon we were more productive than ever as we could more accurately make measurements and for the first time could add and subtract large numbers, we even learned to multiply and divide eventually. I was so proud of my people, taking this new technology in stride. However, the math soon made it apparent that I was not going to die anytime soon, much to my current chagrin, although at that time I was thrilled. I looked to be about 25 to 27 years old at that time, and the scholars calculated that I was aging incredibly slowly. Slow enough to outlive dozes, maybe even hundred, of generations. Now I realize what a curse it has been, I cannot love, for fear of seeing my loved ones die. My children would die before me, something no parent can live through without serious damage, but at the time, I lived it up, loved many women, and fathered many children, not always legitimately. It got heavy there, didn't it? All from talking about math, what a strange, twisted world I live in.



Soon I realized that God must want me to spread my glorious influence as far as possible, after all, I was his chosen one, I thought. So I made my citizens embark on a journey towards an arbitrary location. The only reason this city existed was to be a bridge through which I would pass other settlers. It's a good thing I never expected much out of Savannah, or I would have been sorely disappointed.



Anyways, I have met the Devil and his name is Stephen Austin. I personally met him and shook his hand, we talked, drank, and generally had a good time. But he was the Devil, although I didn't know that at the time. Stephen Austin. His name now makes me shudder in disgust. How could such a man do so much damage? I'll tell you, he's the Devil. Maybe that's why God punished me, for consorting with the Devil on many occasions. If is, I sincerely regret ever helping that man, and wish to take it back, as he has caused me nothing but misery. May God send him back to his realm where he belongs, so he may not scour and scar the earth once more.



Then, maybe to try to counter Austin's dark influence, I felt compelled to build another city, Petersburg, near a great source of fine gems and fatted cows, and the sweetest sugar you could possibly imagine. Oh, how I enjoyed that fine city, unfortunately, it has since turned to dust.

I'll be keeping track of this story.

Very good!

Chapter 6: A God-King in the Making

My people were not a very cultured people at this time, they had vulgar habits and no unifying ties to hold them together, which proved problematic for spreading my influence. So, I decided to make an exchange with Schwarzkopf, giving him writing in exchange for a little bit of gold and mysticism, mostly for the construction of monuments. That was my idea for unifying the country, making people build monuments to me in every city square. It actually worked though. Of course, at that point I knew it had to work because of my amazing charisma and good nature, yet now it seems like a childish gambit to make my people worship me as their god-king even more.



Soon after my monuments began to be erected, I came across a stern, unforgiving woman, Suzy B. Anthony. She was a feminist extraordinaire and wouldn't let anyone forget it. What came of her is a mystery to me. Like Poe, she seemed to just vanish behind the shroud of some giga civilization and was rarely heard from.



Eli Whitney came up to me one day and asked for Currency, one of my most beloved technologies. Why would I give anybody my precious knowledge of coin minting when I could hold it over their head and try to get a great deal later? I turned down his request with a haughty chuckle and sent him back to his land empty-handed.



Once again I turned my eyes outward, expanding my country, which was caught in the middle of every other civilization. I sent a party out to found the city of Nashville, near some deer and a gold vein. It was one of my favorite cities, and proved invaluable in forestalling my imminent doom. Unfortunately, it was a hungry city. There wasn't enough farmland for them to adequately feed themselves to a huge size, yet the citizens served me faithfully and well right up to the bitter end.



I soon decided that crime was running a little too high for my taste, thievery, petty brawls, rape, and the like were all up and there was little that said people couldn't do these things. I soon drafted a code of laws, setting up the foundations of our current legal system. It was common sense and reciprocity for the most part, the punishment fit the crime well in those days. Since then, we've had our ups and downs in severity. For example, a couple hundred years after those laws, nearly everything was punishable by death, years after that, rape went unpunished, and murder was hardly a serious offense. It was a bipolar system that constantly swung either way, yet gave me more power than ever before, which may not have been a good thing considering where the country is now. In the process of creating these laws, I inadvertently created Confucianism. People began following the teachings of this "Confucius" pseudonym I wrote my laws under. I adopted some of the beliefs, mostly due to proximity and time, yet never fully embraced it as a religion.



Jackson set down the pen, his hand had cramped and he was slowly clenching and unclenching his fist to try to assuage the pain. He poured himself a glass of water and went to bed, hoping the next day would not bring his end before he finished his chronicle.

I like, subbed

Aye! That be me thought exactly!

Chapter 7: When God Cannot Face the Devil

Jackson awoke the next day in a cold sweat. He got up and tried writing again to clear his mind.

I believe what happened next was my meeting with John Rockefeller. He was a smart man with money, and he knew just how to throw it around. However, at this time some of his investments hadn't yet panned out, and so he seemed behind compared to me, so I gave him my knowledge of fishing, throwing gasoline on the already raging fire that was my ego.



Soon, I looked out onto other nations, notably the Industrialists, and noticed that they lacked the basic laws my people had by now come to take for granted. I offered Whitney a deal he simply couldn't refuse. I decided to give him my law code in exchange for his knowledge of bricklaying and meditation. To think, my people hadn't yet figured out how to lay bricks yet!



Once again, in a fit of "divine inspiration", I decided to send citizens out to create more cities. Norfolk was founded in order to gather more cows into my empire's borders and Augusta was also founded for the cows, although the wheat helped a bit too. I had thought I was doing right by God, yet my arrogance clearly put him off, as he hasn't been kind to me recently. I have received no inspiration, no fantastic luck. Nothing. Nothing but a dry, dead wind that pushed me along until I arrived in the position I am currently in. Once again I wonder if God is alive, as the Devil has not been halted, and has only gained momentum in this world, demolishing all who stand in his way, including me.

Expect an update tomorrow or the day after, possibly with musical accompaniment.