The Biography Of Ket

[Ellimist 40]

Ket was born and raised in the wilderness of Aegis, far west of the ruins of Al’Khazar, ex-capital of the human kingdom of Oren. He lived in hardship with his father Ketran in the confines of a hollowed out mountain. His mother however was spirited away one night when Ket was but a sprightful youth, never to be seen or heard of again. His father Ketran had always been an irritable soul, forsaking the relative safety of the cities for the hardened life of a wild-man. Ket’s mother’s disappearance had a horrific effect on his father’s mind, pushing him against the borders of sanity, straining against the mental barriers of logic and reason. If it were not for Ketran’s indomitable strength of will, Ket may have grown up without a father too.

Ketran had never told his son Ket why he resented companionship with the city-folk and their ‘fancy, colourful paper houses’, as he would say. He stressed to Ket that there was no greater protection than the Earth itself. That in times of great agony and despair, retreating into the depths of the world would protect him from any and all threats; Ketran could not have been more wrong. As Ket grew up, he was told of a ferocious enemy that threatened the entire world, an enemy neither dead nor alive. While these horror stories made many a night restless and fearsome for young Ket, Ketran assured him that no soul would ever find their mountain home, or cause them harm while Ketran drew breath. While his father had assured him no soul could penetrate Ket’s childhood home, Ketran did not count on the undead being devoid of humanity.

Satisfied with these assurances Ket slowly but surely grew to manhood. During his teenage years his father taught him how to hunt the bovine and poultry that dotted the borders of their home. He was taught how to string and fire the bow, how to fletch arrows from naught but sticks, flint and feathers. He received his first sword at eight years old and regularly sparred with his father to develop his swordsmanship. For months and years on end Ket learnt the most basic and advanced survival skills to ensure his continued life in the unforgiving mountains they dwelled in. He learnt how to wield the hoe and till the landscape so that acres of wheat could flourish—albeit under the dirt and stone of the surface. He learnt how to chop the large trees that concealed the base of the mountain, and then turn them into furniture and useful items.

But most important of the skills teenage Ket learnt, was the skill of mining. Under Ketran’s tutelage he was taught how to fashion a pickaxe from wood and then stone. He was taught how to craft the stone he had gathered into furnaces where he could cook food and smelt ores, and mighty walls impervious to all but the strongest of blasts. One night Ketran sat with his son and told him that the tough training from the past decade had barely scratched the surface of what he needed to achieve. There was still so much more to be explored, the mysteries of redstone, the crafting of strong armour and even quick transport along the deep mineshafts they’d created together. Ket had always been an intelligent and attentive boy, the idea of more training did not daunt him in the slightest, and in fact he welcomed the idea of learning more skills.

Ket never completed his training however; due to his own reckless actions Ket ended his life in the wilderness. One winter’s night Ket emerged from his mountain for the first time in months, he emerged as a man, Ket the boy had finally grown into a strong and hardy wild-man, just like his father. He strung his bow and set down the mountain slopes to hunt for food like he had done many times before. The winter had killed off many of the mountain’s animals and after hours of searching in the bitter cold Ket had only managed to find a lone cow. With stealth and guile Ket knocked an arrow and took aim. A moment before firing the arrow Ket was ambushed by the ferocious creatures of the night; creatures that only existed due to the forbidden enemy of the world. On any other night this would not have been a problem. Ket had slain many monsters before and had had no difficulty overcoming them in the past. But tonight in the icy cold and with but one animal to feed him and his ageing father Ket could not afford to lose his prey. Predictably the commotion startled the cow and it trotted away slowly picking up speed. Drawing his sword Ket severed a zombie’s limb and drove the blade through its torso. Whirling around Ket pirouetted and lopped off the bony head of a skeleton sneaking up behind him.

With his attackers dead, Ket sped after the cow that had snuck away during the brawl. The darkness made it hard to see but Ket’s vision was as keen as an elf’s after living in perpetual darkness for years and years. He caught a glimpse of the cow’s fleeing hide through the branches of low trees. Ket chanced a shot but missed wide as he crashed through the underbrush. Cows look clumsy in nature but catching up to one proved a difficult task. Eventually the dense forest subsided and a short grassy plain opened before him. The cow was in the open and doomed, without a moment’s hesitation Ket knocked another arrow and fired. The arrow caught the cow in the haunch slowing it to a slow crawl. Jogging over Ket drew his sword and slit the cow by the throat killing it outright.

The small victory was short-lived however, Ket soon realised he had left his home far behind and crossed the line of the forest. Ketran had told Ket that to cross the line would result in a gruesome death and not even he could save him. Ket had always thought that this belief was merely superstition, but he was never stupid enough to go against his father’s orders. Through the trees on the other side of the grassland Ket saw orange lights flickering. He approached cautiously one hand poised, ready to draw his sword. Weaving through the trees Ket focused on the lights ahead of him, they slowly grew brighter and brighter until the trees stopped. Blinding panic overcame Ket as he beheld a gigantic fortress emanating fear and anguish. It looked like Iblees himself had created it, fire burnt here and there, great pools of lava flowed through cut troughs below the hovering city. Houses made of obsidian and other unknown materials dotted the scarred landscape.

Dragging his gaze away from the dead city Ket began to run. He sprinted back through the trees and across the grasslands to the safety of his homes. He did not run back alone, he glanced behind him and saw three monsters made of pure fire hunting him. Their fearsome heads detached from rotating bodies expressed hatred and murderous intent. Ket quickly fired an arrow but gaped in dismay when the arrow simply fizzled away upon contact with the monsters. He couldn’t lead these demons back to his home but he had no choice. So far they had not attempted to hurt Ket but he did not dally around to find out if they ever would.

With his mountain in sight Ket doubled his efforts to get there as quickly as possible, the blazes still followed but he was confident he and his father could combat them. Shouting his father’s name he ascended the mountains rocky sides to the hidden entrance to his home. Ketran emerged from the shadow of a tree atop of the mountain sword drawn and eyes livid with hate. Scolding Ket for his stupidity he commanded him to get inside the mountain while his father dealt with the threat. Ket would not leave however; he insisted that the demons were too strong and impervious to ordinary attacks. To this protest though, Ketran simply delivered a powerful blow to his son’s temple knocking him unconscious. The last thing Ket saw as he fell to the ground was several ball of pure fire rushing towards them both.

It was morning when Ket awoke inside his mountain, he had tumbled down the shaft the night before and lay sprawled on the cold stone. Rising to his feet Ket rubbed his sore head and ascended the ladder to the surface. Heaving the trapdoor open Ket climbed out into the bright sunlight and shivered. His shiver came not from the cold but what he saw before him. Lying upon the grass was the body of his father Ketran, wide eyed and cold from death. The entire right side of Ketran had been scorched and burnt by the monsters that had followed Ket home the night before. Ket had never felt such anguish in his entire life, roaring in rage Ket fell to his knees as he looked upon his father’s corpse. The monsters responsible had since disappeared and were nowhere to be found.

After a quick decent burial Ket decided it was time to leave the mountain and find the cities he had never seen. Kneeling at his father’s gravestone his supplies packed and ready Ket paid his last respects. He sealed the entrance to their mountain home with bricks of stone and turned away forever. Carved upon his father’s gravestone were the words: ‘Here lies Ketran, a father and a husband; killed by monsters of fire, defending his only son.’ Ket had never been good with words, after all he had never attended a school but his language was somewhat adequate.

Many weeks passed before Ket first set eyes on another dwelling. The architecture shocked him as he had never even seen a building before. Carrying on, Ket soon found himself on a long line of stone, he had only heard about roads from his father but he knew this was one. Following the road for hours on end Ketran saw more and more buildings. To his concern he noticed that the buildings were all partially destroyed; as he delved deeper and deeper into civilisation the sky grew darker and burning fires smouldered in homes. He came to an old weathered sign, upon it were the words Alras, Galahar and Al’Khazar, all pointing in one direction. There must be other humans like him he thought and followed the signs’ directions.

After a day spent on the road Ket set eyes upon the ruins of Al-Khazar, great edifices lay destroyed on the ground, and the same red material that made up the fortress plagued the white stones. Everlasting fires burnt upon them, but not a single soul was to be found. Rushing past the giant forsaken city Ket decided to try his luck at the next area called Alras. As he left the area, the scent of sulphur began to dwindle and the sky began to brighten. He noticed buildings untouched from damage and even to his joy people, actual people milling about. Eventually he came to a junction where an enormous road led into a city greater in size than even Al’Khazar. The sign said Alras and to his relief he realised he had found a home.

((This is a work in progress of my new character Ket because none of us know the details of our transition to Asulon. I'll add to it later.))

[Lykos 276]

Well written... I put out my bio and practically no one looked at it :/. Link's in my sig if youd lke a look.

[Ellimist 40]

Thanks I'll support you too. I rushed the last bit because I was getting sick of writing.

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.