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[Nh'bdy]

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[This post is a predictive future of Seth, and is not his origin, but the origin of his origin. If the story continues, Seth's past and his present doings will be revealed and posted here, for now, I leave you wish Seth alone on his ship. The sun is high, the wind and waves are calm, but a strange air seems to linger in Sossoria this day. Indescribable without intimate knowledge. Enjoy.]


The ship whined in protest, rocking back and fourth like a gargantuan metronome, the gentle lapping of the waves taking place of the harmony, the ship's strain made for a nice baritone, waiting patiently Seth turned his gaze to the sky.

Almost time for the wood winds to chime in...

Seth caresses the surface of his beloved mask, how it had served him, through fire and flames, past scarring and maim, until the day he had taken if off. His fingertips ran up the cool exterior and over the eye slots, now billowing with a deep red smoke, carrying the scent of burning oak. He felt the cloth of his guise, recalled the stains of chemicals, psychoactive and explosive, blood of friend enemy and of course, his.

He then felt the cool porcelain of the mask he wore now. He chuckled
slightly, recalling the day he had removed his mask, only to have another beneath.

Speaking to no one at all, Seth casts his voice into the salt laden air.

I was born to a mother and father, in grave contrast to most prolific persons origin He counts to three silently From birth, I was somewhat of an enigma. I lived my younger years as most do..frolicking, ignorant of the pain of my Sossoria..My Sossoria is dead now..she is a Jezebel. Casting aside her morals to any man carrying the banner of truth and freedom. Carrying a banner of deceit. Seth pauses to take a breath, and to suppress the emotion from his words. I attempted to preach the Virtues..Scandal! Bloodshed! I was cast from the shallow watered docks of ignorance into the murky waters of life...

Pausing for a moment, suddenly Seth kicks a large stack of sealed envelopes, as if summoned by a higher force, the wind gusts, sending them fluttering into the sky in every direction. As they flutter and begin to disappear, Seth's voice seems weaker.

My children...my cryptic riddles, I have cast you into my beloved Trade Winds, may they carry you far, scattering the eternal resting place of my life's work. May the riddle send a group of wide-eyed youth on a occupation of brighter days..or may they bring my assassins to the mislabeled brilliance. Cast as insanity by those that don't understand..Perhaps my actions were rash..the fires, the kidnappings, the druggings. Perhaps challenging the Regent, the protectorate..Bah.

The speech that shall never be delivered is cast away with a dismissive wave. Seth stands, placing his rightful helm on, walking across to a sizable chest resting on the edge of the ship..he pushes gently, it plummets towards the watter, colliding with a large splash, breaking the gentle sounds heard in the moments previous. As the chest descends the still rope begins to unravel..snapping taunt a figure is dragged across the deck suddenly, a momentary scream signaling the end of the innocent melody. The momenta of reflection over, Seth looks over the glistening water to the city of Britannia. At that very moment, a strange howl seems to echo across the land, the sound can only be compared to the disgruntled breath of the land flowing over itself. For a moment, not a man stares at the land..but a force locks eyes with a force..
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Work in Progress.
"What do you call a fish with four legs? A stool pidgeon! Bwuagh bwuagh bwuagh bwguagh!"
~Malorn