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Death of the Hill's Son [PK]


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Death of the Hill’s Son 

 


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It was just an ordinary night along the roads leading to the mighty nation of Norland as Bo Jam sat playing his banjo beside a fire. The young man's fingers danced across the strings until a young boy stumbled across Bo, a warm smile and hand gesturing for the boy to take a seat. 

 

“Come an take yerself ah seat fella, ain’t no problem. Ma music is free ah promise!”

 

The young boy without a word took a seat beside the homeless looking man, glancing toward the many empty mason jars nearby.

 

“Yer thirsty aint ya!” Bo then handed the boy a jar of moonshine with a wide smile, “Make sure ya give ah big ole, YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO befer ya drink or it aint gone taste so good.” 

 

The unsuspecting boy followed the words of Bo Jam, only to find himself spitting out the rather high-proof moonshine. Moments later Bo began to strum the chords of his banjo once more. 

 

“So fella, ah might’ve lied ta ya. There do be a price fer ya ta hear me songs…..” Beneath the unkept beard of the hillbilly, a set of fangs began to slowly protrude, “Ya got ta tell me what makes ya happy.” 

 

“I.. I guess meeting new people like you makes me happy mister...” 

 

The musical strum of Bo’s banjo then ended abruptly, the hillbilly rising to his feet as he stared into the campfire before him. The memory of why he first traveled from his home flooding his mind, a single tear falling to the earth as a result. Without another word the redneck moved beside the boy, placing a hand atop his head, “Tha be ah good thing fella… real good.” Bo then took a mighty gulp of his nightglow moonshine, drinking the entire jar in one go, YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, ain’t nothin like some moonshine… Ya stay safe now fella, ah got somethin ta do.” 

 

Bo then set off into the forest, it was time he stopped letting his past control him. Stop letting others dictate what he was meant for. It was time for Bo to rid himself of the curse that plagued his blood and mind. 


 

 


"The idea of redemption is always good news, even if it means sacrifice or some difficult times." 

Patti Smith


 

Spoiler

 

 

Step by step Bo continued to wander the untouched wilderness blessing the lands of Almaris. Time, determination, and hope breaking the enthrallment brought upon him many months prior though at a cost. The hillbilly that once held an unbreakable smile, soon fell to his knees in tears as he thought of the many egregious acts he had committed over the course of his life. “Ah ain’t never hurtin anotha fella, never…” The hillbilly speaking himself into a small depressed slumber. When Bo Jam awoke, his body was no longer his own as he fought the urge to feed upon his friends. 

 

The blood of corcitura ran rampant within his veins for the next few years, slowly taking control of his mind in hopes of garnering a feast. Though the heart and mind of Bo remained strong, guiding his body far from any descendant home capable of being harmed. On one fateful night, Bo made a grave mistake and found himself at the gates of DuLoc. The scent of man filling his nostrils as he dashed into the city, a figment of what he once was as he rabidly threw himself toward the first man he came across. In a movement bound by fate the man stepped to the side, sending Bo Jam’s mind into an unconscious state as he collided with a stone staircase. 

 

Bo was then bound, dragged, and beaten within the forests surrounding the city of Du Loc. The rabid hillbilly attempted to free himself to no avail as the man he sought to feed upon began to carve a set of runes into the body of the poor redneck. A depiction soon finding a home beside Bo as the man used his blood as a tool for the art. Moments later a blade found itself along the neck of Bo Jam, a simple set of words following, “Why me? Of all the people in this world, why me?” 

 

“I never wanted to… I- I- needed to…” 

Slice

 

The blade swiftly cut the skin it sat atop, the crimson ichor of Bo covering the earth beneath himself before the man began to speak an ancient tongue. The runes and art soon came to life as the soul of Bo was ripped from the mortal plane. Silence then filled the forest, nothing but a futile pile of dust remaining of Bo Jam. It appeared, the time of this hillbilly has come to an unlikely end. 


 

Spoiler

The story of Bo Jam was probably one of the best I have ever made, and probably one of the most fun and funniest things I have ever done. I got to meet a ton of great people, learn about people's characters next to a fire, sold a boat load of moonshine, and most importantly made people smile. Not only that, I got to meet the more spooky sides of LoTC and give some people a surprise whenever I revealed what Bo was cursed to be. The way this poor fella died was most definitely not intended, and it leaves you all who care with the question. Was Bo truly evil, or was Bo just an ordinary hillbilly cursed to walk a path he never wanted to step on? 

 

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Spoiler

 

 

It was a day like any other. The mage scholar walked a bit back and forth through the street of Du Loc. Humming a calm tune to himself, thinking about the recent research he had been working on. Studying his tome with all his concentration before...

 

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

 

The scream echoed through the empty streets. A wild man, rabid and hostile sprinting straight towards the elf. He looks up from the book to face the threat. And then, the man, Bo, jumped straight towards the elf which dissapeared in a small cloud. The wild man? Slamming his face straight into the stone stairs. 


The scholar certainly wasn't entertained. Many times he layed at the mercy of those who think to make him kneel. Azdrazi, Paladins, Kings and queens. In that moment, the elf did no longer think, he would no longer kneel. Binding the wild man up, the scholar drags Bo off into the woods a stone throw away from the city before letting go of the rope out of pure exhaustion. 
 

"Why out of all people you chose me?"
 

The annoyed elf asked the bound up man. And the answer was blood, all Bo required was his blood. And blood he would get, yet not that of the elf, no Bo's own blood would be spilled that faithful evening. With that blood, a unholy ritual was made. The vampire no more.


All that remained now was the scholar, Bo being no more then ash. And in that moment, he pondered, falling in thought. Was the man truly evil or but someone with bad luck... The memory of the attacked repeated in the elf's mind. Did Bo truly mean no harm? Was it fair for himself to give this faith to Bo? The questions pilled up.

 

Then...

 

A figure emerges out of the wood. Looming over the scholar with a cackle.

 

"You have done well... join me young one. I can guide your research."

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Holy Sir Edwin felt a sudden pang of sadness, though he knew not why. . .

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Vukosav sat before the fire in his home, reading a few books as to pass the time when his eyes caught a familiar word. Moonshine. The infamous Bo Jam speciality and so, he thought back upon his memories with the man.

Heremembered the day they first met, Bo tried wooing a lady with little effect but once Vukosav stepped in, his chances... decreased. In any event they fought together, dined and drunk together. He remembered the times when they fought against the rats of Luciensburg, how they both ended up in the clutches of medics numerous times. Yet once they were both sired by an unkown creature, brought into the vamperic curse they lost touch.

Now years later he remembered him, thinking back towards him with happy memories.  Vukosav closed his book as he shed a tear, wondering if he will ever meet him again for he might never learn of Bo Jams passing...


goodbye good friend, Bo Jam was one of my favourite people to RP with, once I heard of his passing, I felt my soul drop and I gotta be honest, I will miss Bo Jam very much.

May Bo Jam Rest in the moonshine field of heaven!

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