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GreydonQiVo
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Etjole Ehomba

Here you will find the story and journals of Etjole Ehomba, the curious shaman from Caetia.

---
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." -- Sean Bean(Equilibrium)
23/Oct/05, 6:52 pm Send Email to GreydonQiVo   Send PM to GreydonQiVo ICQ AIM
 
GreydonQiVo
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Every man deserves a chance at freedom....

“Every man deserves a chance at freedom. But every man is not free. The story remains the same, there are those fighting for freedom, those enjoying what temporary freedom they have, and those who seek to take the freedom of others. The story remains the same, every man is not free…”

Etjole Ehomba, once a simple hunter and shaman on the Island of Light, Caetia, son of the Etjole tribe, grandson of Etjole Bahime, husband to none and father to none. The man who believes in this truth about the nature of freedom, the man who has now become a traveler, left his home to walk the world, learning, exploring, and searching for truth.

Ehomba had walked Castille, land of passion, on the southwest edge of Theah. Walked it, explored it, learned much, and moved on. Such was the nature of his quest for truth and knowledge, he was not an important man, nor did he claim to be, he simply went about his quest, helping those that needed help along the way, and learning from those that would teach him. That is, until he headed north…

“Ahg! Get off me mutt!” Ehomba looked up as he heard the shout, following the noise to its source, one of two men who were being attacked by a large pack of feral dogs. The men were dressed in furs, carried blunt weapons, and smelled of alcohol and death. Ehomba did not like the look of them, but it was not his place to judge, yet. He jumped into the fray without a second’s hesitation, firing his bow rapidly at two members of the pack, before reaching them and starting to lend a hand. Between the three of them they were able to thin out and scare off the pack of dogs, a fact that made Ehomba a bit saddened, as the dogs were only attacking out of hunger, there was no malice behind their actions, they simply wished to live, as everyone does.

The two men whom Ehomba had saved, were very grateful of his assistance, so grateful that they clubbed him over the head as soon as his attention was elsewhere and dragged him off to their nearby city.

When he awoke, Ehomba found himself in shackles, in a building full of men in the same position, beaten and broken men, men without hope, slaves…

It seems the two men whom Ehomba had rescued, were members of a large group of slavers who had taken over a city known as Vergogne. These men had enslaved the population of this city and had forced all of their slaves to work for them, keeping them separated into several camps throughout the city. Those who did not work, did not eat, those who did not eat, were not allowed assistance, even from the other slaves, which meant that those who did not work, died.

Ehomba did not enjoy being a slave, as his people had spent a hundred years in slavery, before they revolted and drove their masters from their home. But while he did not enjoy being a slave himself, he knew that the slavers would never truly be able to take his freedom, he would always be free, it was only a matter of time before he was given the chance at it again. But the others, the ones without hope, the beaten and broken ones, they were whom his heart grieved for, because they did not understand the nature of freedom. They had given up. But after watching an old man, older than Ehomba’s grandfather was when he died, get beaten to death by the slavers for refusing to work and speaking against them, Ehomba decided that he could not let this stand, he would remind the broken ones what hope felt like, show them the true nature of freedom, teach them, to resist…


---
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." -- Sean Bean(Equilibrium)
23/Oct/05, 6:54 pm Send Email to GreydonQiVo   Send PM to GreydonQiVo ICQ AIM
 
GreydonQiVo
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Every woman deserves a chance at freedom....

   The evening shift has just ended and the slaves have been sent back to their bunkhouse. It has been nearly a week since Etjole was captured, and he decides that he has observed long enough. The guards leave the slaves to stand guard outside the bunkhouse. The slaves of course still wearing shackles.

<Etjole Ehomba> :: checks his shackles as he has done every night and looks around the bunkhouse at the slaves::

<Angelique> ::on one of the bunks sits quietly a ragged looking boy with shortish hair and dirt covering his clothes and skin; not an unusual sight in this place. What one could make out of his mud-covered face sets him around seventeen, but his frame would be a bit small and delicate even for a fifteen-year-old::

<Etjole Ehomba> :: walks across the bunkhouse, looking the slaves over, especially their spirits, stopping at a middle aged man:: Man: Hello. You have the will to resist.

<Etjole Ehomba> <Man> :: looks up at Etjole:: Etjole: What are you talking about?

<Angelique> ::the "boy" looks up from the floor and lifts his head at the sound of Etjole's words, silently watching him speak to the middle-aged man from a few bunks away::

<Etjole Ehomba> Man: The will to resist, you have it. :: turns and points to several
others, including the ragged boy:: As do you, and you, and you.

<Etjole Ehomba> <Men> :: raise their eyebrows, looking at each other as if trying to see what he sees::

<Angelique> ::the boy blinks a few times and stares blankly at Etjole, speaking after a
few moments of silence. "He" hadn't spoken to anyone since he was captured, feigning muteness for the sake of hiding his identity. But now as the words rolled off his voice,
there was a distinct elegance to them, and a noticeable femininity..:: Etjole: The will to
resist? Perhaps.. But a will is nothing without a means. Those without skill can do nothing to fight, and those with it are broken until they lose that will.

<Etjole Ehomba> :: turns to the girl and holds up a finger:: Angelique: Ah, but can a will truly be lost just because it is broken? Or does it just need a bit of repair to be strong once more?

<Angelique> ::smiles weakly:: Etjole: Such repair would take a skilled hand and a steady
heart.. And many would not take the chance.

<Etjole Ehomba> :: shrugs:: Angelique: If no one ever resisted then we would all be
slaves to someone.

<Angelique> ::sighs quietly, frowning at the foreigner:: Etjole: Desperation and will
doesn't amount to strength or skill, monsieur. If we could fight them, don't you think we would have?

<Etjole Ehomba> :: shrugs again:: Angelique: That may be true, but perhaps you just
did not know the correct way to deal with a situation like this.

<Angelique> ::quirks a brow and folds her arms:: Etjole: And who does?.. No one was
meant to be treated like this.

<Etjole Ehomba> Angelique: As a matter of fact, I do.

<Etjole Ehomba> <Men> :: laugh and turn over to get some sleep::

<Angelique> ::furrows her brows skeptically:: Etjole: And how is it you've found yourself in such a situation if you already know the way out of it?.. Or were you sent by Theus to guide his wayward souls? ::smirks a bit::

<Etjole Ehomba> :: shakes his head:: Angelique: My people were slaves at one time, but we recently threw off our captors and wiped them from our island. And as for why I am here, I was only trying to help someone who looked like they were in trouble. I was not expecting them to turn out to be slavers.

<Angelique> ::sighs and shakes her head as well, muttering under her breath:: Etjole: No
good deed goes unpunished.. ::shrugs:: What do you suggest we do to change this 'situation'?

<Etjole Ehomba> :: smiles:: Angelique: Simply listen and learn little one.

<Angelique> ::looks at him with evident uncertainty:: Etjole: Alright, I'm listening.

<Etjole Ehomba> Angelique: Well, some of you have the will, which is the important thing. What you need now is the means, which my talents can provide.

<Angelique> ::raises a brow:: Etjole: Have you a well-trained, well-fed army hidden
about somewhere we have not seen?

<Etjole Ehomba> :: laughs and nods:: Angelique: Well, I have half of that. Or could.

<Angelique> Etjole: Do you think we would stand a chance against them, even with
training? We're being slowly worked to death, fed only the minimal.. Can will make up
for that?

<Etjole Ehomba> :: nods:: Angelique: It can. Do you think my people were being
treated any better when they revolted?

<Angelique> Etjole: I don't know what to think.. But if you really believe you can free us from this, then I don't think I really have a choice, do I? Better to die than stay in this living Legion.

<Etjole Ehomba> :: nods:: Angelique: It is better to die on your feet, than to live on
your knees. :: smiles:: That has become something of a motto among my people.

<Angelique> ::smiles slightly:: Etjole: I don't know if it's possible to win this fight. I hope for the sake of all of us that you prove me wrong.

<Etjole Ehomba> :: nods:: Angelique: Well that will depend greatly on all of you…



Last edited by GreydonQiVo, 20/Nov/05, 9:44 pm


---
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." -- Sean Bean(Equilibrium)
20/Nov/05, 9:40 pm Send Email to GreydonQiVo   Send PM to GreydonQiVo ICQ AIM
 
GreydonQiVo
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Freedom can always be taken back, but for how long can you hold onto it?...

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: It has been a little over a month since Etjole became a slave in Vergogne, though the time has not been wasted however, as he has spent the weeks recruiting and training slaves from various camps in Vergogne to prepare for a revolt..

<Etjole_Ehomba> Not every slave was convinced by the foreigner's words, or even his
actions, but some were. And hopefully that some will be enough. After Etjole had
gathered a large enough force, he began to train them, using battle tactics his own people
had used decades before to throw off their own oppressors.

<Etjole_Ehomba> Etjole and the slaves continued to work during the day, as not doing it
would cause suspicion and punishment, however at night they were left relatively
unbothered, and that is when they trained and plotted.

<Etjole_Ehomba> But even with every single slave in Vergogne they may not be able to
win, however several days ago Etjole learned of a ray of hope from the south, a town
called Bascone. A haven in this nation gone mad, a force with a cause of justice, maybe
even, a powerful ally..

<Etjole_Ehomba> After learning of this place, Etjole changed their plans, deciding that if
his band of slaves could revolt and escape Vergogne, they could travel south to Bascone
and get help in freeing the rest of the slaves.

<Etjole_Ehomba> It has been a tough and dangerous road, but Etjole finally believes that
his band of slaves is ready to take back their freedom.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: looks up at the night sky through the barred window of the bunk
house::

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: looks away from the window to the slaves, his fighting force::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Every member of Etjole's army is in the bunk house, they
came from different camps, but after they joined Etjole figured out a way to collect them
all in one bunk house for ease of training and planning. It seems the slavers don't care
which slaves are in which houses, so long as the head counts match up every night.

<Angelique> ::Angelique sits on one of the bunks and fidgets nervously as she eyes
Etjole, her gaze occasionally wandering over to the window. She whispers a silent prayer

to Theus as the slaves wait quietly in the darkness::

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: looks out the window again and waves a hand to six of the slaves
standing by the door::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Those six slaves happen to be among the more burly
members of the slave group, they all move and together quietly lift what looks like a
makeshift battering ram, carrying it to the door and waiting for the signal.

<Angelique> ::stands and watches the men closely::

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: stares out the window until he spots what he was looking for and
grins::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: A building a few streets down from the bunkhouse
suddenly bursts into flames. The slavers start shouting and running over to it. Leaving a
group to guard the slaves of course, but half what it was before.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: waves his hand again::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: The six slaves suddenly smash the door with the ram,
knocking down the two slavers outside it.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: gives the signal for the group to move out::

<Angelique> ::nods and starts towards the door with the others, trying to keep herself
near the middle of the group::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Slaves pour out of the smashed door, attacking any slaver
within reach, hope burning in their hearts and fueling their fists and feet.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: takes up the rear, fighting alongside the slaves::

<Angelique> ::takes a deep breath and charges towards a slaver, yelling out and landing a
kick at his stomach::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: The desperate men attack the slavers without mercy or
hesitation, using all of the training Etjole could give them to kill their oppressors as
quickly as possible and move on.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: chokes a slaver with the chain of his shackles and moves on to
another::

<Angelique> ::runs with a group of allies towards a few of the slavers, attacking them
with a previously undiscovered fury::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Needless to say, the slavers were not expecting a fairly well
trained, well organized revolt tonight, and the group guarding the bunkhouse falls after a
surprisingly short skirmish, only managing to kill two of the slaves.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: looks around to make survey the damage before signaling the slaves
to follow him, taking off down a side street, having already planned out their route out of
the city::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: The slaves hurry to follow Etjole, remembering the plan
from the many hours spent learning it.

<Angelique> ::looks towards the direction of the women's 'camp', but hesitantly follows
after Etjole::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Etjole leads the slaves down several side streets and back
alleys, having chosen a route that should get them most of the way to the edge of town
without running into any resistance.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: rounds another corner and runs into a slaver group, attacking them fiercely::

<Angelique> ::watches as the crowd of slaves surround their enemy and steps forward to
fight beside them::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Once again the slavers are taken by surprise by the
coordination and brutality of the former slaves, falling nearly as quickly as their brothers
back at the bunkhouse.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: continues on, keeping the men focused, leaving behind a few more
dead slaves among the slavers::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: The former slaves push onward, spotting the southern gates of the city up ahead.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: shouts:: Come on! We're almost there! :: picks up the pace::

<Angelique> :: pushes herself harder as she tries to keep up with the men, her eyes trained
on the gates::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: As the slaves hurry towards the gate a dozen arrows
suddenly rain down on them from a nearby building.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: dodges the arrows and continues on, shouting again:: This is it!
Keep going! They are desperate to stop us! :: pushes harder, helping anyone who needs
a hand to continue::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Slaves start falling to the arrows but the rest continue on to
the broken gates, running into another group of slavers and tearing into them, even more
driven now than they were before.

<Angelique> ::keeps running until she reaches the gate, not stopping to look back at the
ones that didn't make it::

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: spins and kicks at the slavers at the gate, fighting a bit more fluidly
than the slaves, but in keeping rhythm with them::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Soon the slaves have broken through the last line of slavers,
leaving the town, and the range of the deadly arrows.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: smiles as his group leaves the city behind, slowing just a bit and
looking back to survey the injuries::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: Only a third of the slaves fell during the escape, and
another handful have various injuries, including Angelique, who received a broken arm
during the fight at the gates, thanks to a burly slaver.

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: moves around to help the injured as he continues on:: We must
continue friends, we have won the day, but the war is not over yet, and it may be a long
road to Bascone.

<Angelique> ::Angelique glances around at the others and then looks down at her arm,
having not noticed it in her desperation to flee. She holds it with her other hand and
continues on, stepping towards Etjole:: Etjole: Do you think they will come after us?

<Etjole_Ehomba> Angelique: Most likely, but if that fire spread like I hoped it would,
they may be a little busy for a while yet. Lets just hope we will have enough of a head
start to outrun them.

<Angelique> ::sighs quietly:: Etjole: They have horses.. We might not be able to outrun
them on foot, especially with the injured.. ::frowns and looks back to a few who are
limping::

<Etjole_Ehomba> :: looks back as well:: Angelique: We will do our best. That is all a
person can ever do... :: continues on::

<Etjole_Ehomba> ACTION: The former slaves head south, moving off of the main road
for better cover if they are indeed followed...

<Etjole_Ehomba> <<<<End>>>>


---
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." -- Sean Bean(Equilibrium)
3/Dec/05, 10:12 pm Send Email to GreydonQiVo   Send PM to GreydonQiVo ICQ AIM
 
GreydonQiVo
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Etjole ventures to Patrol Headquarters alone...

   Etjole waited until the dead of night to venture away from the camp and make his way to the patrol’s headquarters, it seemed a fitting time. After all, night seems to be the time ghosts like best, the time they tend to roam free. Etjole left all of his weapons and gear behind at the camp, including his clothing, leaving nothing for the spirits to corrupt with their malice, taking with him only one object, a perfectly round and smooth stone, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, about two finger widths across.

   The stench of death must have been cleared from the building days, or even weeks ago, but the smell still reached his senses as if it never left, an echo of the death that once existed in this place. Not knowing the layout of the building, he had simply entered through what looked like the main entrance, not seeing any spirits right off, but knowing they were there. In fact it wasn’t until he ascended the stairs that he was met by the spirits, the second floor was full of them, wandering aimlessly, until they spotted him.

   The spirits did not attack him at first, they simply stood there watching him, as if more confused than angered by his presence, however that passed quickly and they started towards him, wielding echoes of whatever weapons they died carrying. Etjole felt the usual sickening feeling in his stomach when they drew near, but pushed it from his thoughts and stood his ground, allowing them ever closer. When the first one came close enough to make contact, Etjole promptly vomited from the cold sick feeling that came over him, as it had been a long while since he had cleansed spirits filled with just anger and malice. However after his initial reaction he regained his control, standing straight once again and waiting for his moment, wincing as spirit after spirit surrounded him, closing in, swinging at him with ghostly weapons, clutching at him. And once they were close enough, he held up his hand, opened his palm, and started humming a single deep tone. The round stone suddenly flashed with light and every spirit within a few feet of Etjole instantly vanished.

   Etjole closed his palm again and stumbled slightly from the exertion, and upon seeing their comrades simply vanish, the other spirits turned their collective attention, and hatred, towards the mortal, focusing their efforts to causing him harm. While their weapons were non-corporeal, and therefore could not actually inflict wounds on mortals, their concentrated hatred was capable of doing damage in other ways.

   It was at this moment, when Etjole was being overwhelmed, that a new spirit appeared, stepping into the hallway as if from a side room that did not exist, spinning into the other spirits, legs and arms striking out to deal ghostly blows to them, keeping them all from reaching Etjole at once.

   With the new spirit keeping some of the others at bay, Etjole was free to continue his work, opening his palm and humming once more, capturing another group of the angered ones and moving forward. Until soon there was only one left, which Etjole was forced to search the entire building for, as after seeing his comrades vanish, this spirit had decided to hide. But after an hour of searching, Etjole finally managed to find and capture the last spirit, leaving him alone in the cleansed headquarters with the helpful spirit.

   “Guess you needed my help after all, huh Grandson?” The helpful spirit smiled to Etjole and tousled his hair, offering him a hand, as Etjole was still stumbling from the exertion of the night’s work.

   “Yes Grandfather, thank you once again for your continued assistance.” Etjole took his ancestor’s offered arm and moved slowly out of the building, leaving it free of the evil that once dwelled there, and starting back towards the camp.

“I could not have done it without you…”

   


---
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams." -- Sean Bean(Equilibrium)
10/Dec/05, 8:07 pm Send Email to GreydonQiVo   Send PM to GreydonQiVo ICQ AIM
 


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