FANDOM


Thehand2

The Band of the Bone Hand

Across the land that is Edon, many stones gather to mark the passing of life. These stones represent many things but it can be generally argued that respect was shown for the dead depending upon the status one held while alive. An adventurer caught between a knife and a hard place would have been buried without notice, only the undertaker aware of his passing whilst a young Knight is buried with much remorse regardless of their contributions. Such is the nature of life and death.

But no matter where you look however, there are always gaps between the stones. Gaps in people’s memories, gaps in history. In these gaps lie those that are forgotten. Those never to be remembered.

Their graves unmarked their crimes unknown. It is time for them to rise.......

Mora'lee Eve'vle ~ by Polarice

Mora'lee Eve'vle's name in her previous life is not important.  She was a Traveling Bard of simple beliefs and tastes.  Not too smart but enough to get by in her choice of profesion.

A bard will jump at a chance to make a sonet of epic proportians and Mora'lee was no exception.  She foolishly followed a Knight into the mountains to record his tale of Dragon slaying.  Not a good move as you may be thinking but you cannot get famous without risk.  Needless to say she now stands before you having learnt that some dragons are better not disturbed and their treasure better not touched.  Now she is not all she once was.  Some Curses are more than you can bear........

Falstar ~ by Falstar

The worms had eaten their fill. It is amazing how the prospect of a meal from a freshly-buried corpse will call them to the feast, leaving a skeleton behind after they have finished their work.  

If a worm could see, they may have seen the corpse twitch, and then return to stillness. Worms, however, do not care about such things, so long as they can feed.  

A shovel stabbed at the dirt, disturbing the abundance of life generated, paradoxically, by the hastily-interred body.  

"Dig faster!" whispered the would-be grave robber. "We only have so many hours, and plenty more plots to check." The young boy grimaced, but knew not to argue with this man. Although the man was glazed in fat, there was enough muscle behind it to make him pick up the pace. His half-healed welts and bruises were encouragement enough.  

Suddenly, the shovel struck bone. More dirt was removed, until the majority of the long-dead remains could be seen. Searching the body quickly, the man throw up his hands in disgust. "Bah! Not even in a box! And nothing of value on him at all! Why, the dagger thrust through his chest would not even bring me one gold piece at the scrappers!"  

"What did you expect, from such a poor gravesite." the boy muttered sullenly. There was a sharp crack! and the boy saw stars. The man stood over the boy, fury flooding his face. "I warned you, bo..." His expression changed to one of puzzlement, and then to fear, his face turning white. Slowly, he toppled to the ground, lying unmoving on the ground.  

The boy shrieked in terror as he looked up. The skeleton's hand stopped glowing red, and it flexed its fingerbones. A sharp cackle seemed to float around the being. With unnatural speed, its hands shot out and grabbed the boy around the throat, silencing him.  

Worms are not the only things in this world that enjoy a good meal of fresh meat.    

Deten'te Eve'vle ~ by Marauder Deuce

 He does not remember much of his life.  Thee was the street and there was the gang.  It was not much of a life, crime and violence.  He was a thug, a knife man part of a street gang.  

His death came quickly - a fight against another gang - he did not have time to learn who stabbed him in the back befoe he died - they threw his body into the harbour.

How long I lay in the water I do not know but it was the fish that I first became aware of.

I do not know who I was - I do not care - I am Deten'te Eve'vle

I am of the immortal undead, pray we do not meet.

Dis'daind Eve’vle ~ by Alzig

These stones represent many things but it can be generally argued that respect was shown for the dead depending upon the status one held while alive. An adventurer caught between a knife and a hard place would have been buried without notice, only the undertaker aware of his passing whilst a young Knight is buried with much remorse regardless of their contributions. Such is the nature of life and death. 

But no matter where you look however, there are always gaps between the stones. Gaps in people’s memories, gaps in history. In these gaps lie those that are forgotten. Those never to be remembered. 

Their graves unmarked their crimes unknown. It is time for them to rise....... 

Dis’daind’s professor of magic always hated him, well, maybe not before he met him, but hated none the less. It wasn’t a problem that his magic was never fast enough or strong enough. No, Dis’daind had once mipronounced a spell severely injuring several of his fellow magic students. Wasn’t his fault…Well it was. But they lived, just, and that’s all that matters. 

However their magic suffered. And Dis’daind was now hated by the professor and all students. This hatred was continued for a long time until on one eventful afternoon he was called to the front to be the subject of a demonstration. In the last moments of his life he saw his professor raise his staff and point it at poor Dis’daind. All he can remember after that is constantly falling. Where? He had no idea. 

His eyes opened and he was missing some fairly vital parts of his body, parts that generally shouldn’t be missing. Well at least his magic works better now…. Hopefully.  

Chat'ae ~ by Velve

Chat'ae remembers a suprising amount of his life, or claims to at least, though every time he explains anything the details continualy shift.

While quite smart, it is unknown if the undead archer is totaly sane. Living up to his name, his jawbone is always flapping, unless it breaks off from over use.

He sees himself as a brilliant chef and archer, almost every creature killed he will claim to know a great way of cooking it.

Whatever he truly was in life, in death he is unpredictable and dangerous in death.

Flo'wa Pet’al Eve’vle ~ by Chellfire

The ground rumbles in the mist filled cemetery, finally a bone hand emerges from the hard packed soil where an unmarked grave lies at the back of the cemetery. This is a cemetery placed near the dark loch where the water is stagnant and trees grow to full bloom before dying overnight like some unknown spell was cast from beneath the ground yet there is only one grave that mars this once lush landscape.

Monks give up their names as part of their beliefs so no-one knows who it was that was buried down by the infamous loch, It was only when a few adventurous monks thought to sift through these ancient archives to reveal this ancient secret and find out who this mysterious person is that lies beneath this troubled soil. 

This act of innocent curiosity proved to be the monks undoing, Upon opening the sealed book of archives the monks unknowingly released a hidden spell placed by the very monk in that unmarked grave sending the monastery crashing to the ground killing every living soul within the grounds of the monastery........

She emerges from her grave laughing hysterically at the devastation of the once beautiful monastery. Looking at her right are she sees the word Eve’vle scratched into her very bone and upon looking at her ‘unmarked grave’ she notices a faint outline of a petal from a flower of some description and decides she will from now on be known as Flo'wa Pet’al Eve’vle to remind herself how fragile the mortal realm is. 

Grabbing her twin Kama’s and an old robe from what was left of the monastery she sets out to find her way in Edon.   

Nu’Tso Eve’vle ~ by Gobarg

The noise of those approaching stirred the crows from their feast.  Their dark forms filled the air around the suspended iron cage.  The lifeless body contained inside now bore little resemblance to its living host. The odd piece of rotten, yet to be eaten flesh hung from the sides of the cage.

Upon seeing the cage the small parrty gave a cheer and cursed the figure for eternity for it’s crimes.  Yes they knew the occupant of the cage and knew of his great evil and cowardice.

Even in these times of war and suffering this creature’s crimes deserved special treatment.  To any civilized being the consumption of ones own is considered heinous enough but to prey on the weak and unprotected deserved special punishment.

For it was the families of those gone to protect them that suffered at his hands.  Carefully chosen to present the least trouble and most reward he preyed upon them mercilessly.  Many a man returned from a successful sortie to find their entire family reduced to gnawed bones and rendered flesh.

His last days had been filled with the memories of his life.  His thoughts teemed with the images of his existence.  He had loved his mother he was sure.  Even to the last he loved her and knew he would miss her even as he devoured the last of a particularly tasty curry that she had become.

His activities were restricted considerably before the war but he soon realised that it bought “Fresh” opportunities to taste foreign “Food”.  The war then bought into full bloom the vile nature of Nu’Tso.  He became ever braver and ever more capable at hunting his prey.  Nu’Tso became a nightmare made real for those in nearby villagers.

He continued to prey in this way until at last the entire area banded together to catch this evil.  All able bodied men gathered as if to sortie and left the area unprotected or seemingly so.

He was no more able to resist the call of flesh than he was able to escape the trap set for him.  They left the village and he pounced upon the intended victims only to discover a watch had been set and he was trapped.

When they came for him he had had time to partially prepare a grisly meal for his captures.  He viewed his captures more as food than as friends now.  There would be neither mercy nor any respite from punishment till death.

Daily his tormentors would visit every humiliation and degradation they could imagine upon his sorry soul. His hunger grew, as did his anger.  If only he could escape they would pay!  There, however was to be no escape for Nu’Tso.  He would rot until there was nothing for the crows to pick and then he would be cast into a sinking pit and there he would lie forever.

He began to curse them for their proximity and his appetite.  He NEEDED food he WANTED food he was SO hungry and they looked SO tender.

He died with thoughts of flesh and blood raging through his mind.

The crows had done their job and the corpse hung gleaming white in the air.

When he was taken done a shallow pit was scraped out and the broken remains dumped in then back filled with excrement and finally salted to ensure nothing grew here.

Hunger!  A hunger greater than any he had known gnawed away at him.  A hunger so great, merely being dead was no barrier

Revenge!  Revenge on all those that had taunted and tortured him.  They would pay!

Thought!?  Yes thought came to Nu’Tso.  He lay in the pile of filth and thought!

HE stirred and the ground moved.  The pile of dirt slowly moved to reveal the grotesque figure rise from the makeshift grave.  His senses adjusting to the surrounds he observed the destruction of the village where he met his doom and by the look of it the carnage happened long ago.

A new understanding comes to Nu’Tso.  He can remember things of himself and heritage that he would never have guessed.

He knew his FULL name now.

Nu’Tso Eve’vle

Illegitimate son of Feer’kno Eve’vle

“Hmm” He thought to himself

“To time meet the Skellie Rellies then.”

Bredfan ~ by Bredfan

Slowly vision came back to the body that lay upon the cavern floor.

Feeling the need to blink, but not possessing of any eyelids, I endure the itching feeling of no fluid around my eyeballs.

Rubbing my hands across my eyes, results in a grinding sound.

Bewildered, I look at my hand, only to see bones, with tattered pieces of flesh hanging from my skeletal hand.

Gasping, I slowly sit up.

Why doesn’t my hand hurt?

Trying to remember how I came to be here, I look about.

Stone walls, stone ceiling, stone floor, bars on one side from ceiling to floor, a broken chest and soot all over the ground.

Soot also covers my legs.

My legs- they too are bones, with tattered flesh hanging from them, my once beautiful peerless studded leather armour ruined and ripped apart.

I know now I am in deep trouble. I should not be alive.

Looking at the chest, memories come flooding back.

I remember finding the chest. I was among friends, we hunted together in a tomb.

I remember a trap. That lazy thief let me open the chest before he checked it.

The chest exploded and the bars fell from the ceiling.

I remember pain, and lying in a pile of soot and blood waiting for my friends to get me out of here and back to Helios, to the temple.

I remember hearing footsteps running, getting fainter and fainter and then I crawled to the bars, trying to fit through but I was unable.

Why didn’t they come back for me?

How long have I been here?

The treasure- it must still be here. That’s something at least. Moving about, I search through the wreckage. I see nothing here, apart from wood and soot.

I remember lying among jewels and coins. I could picture the relic that we sought, and it was within my grasp. Where is it all now?

Something tugs at my foot.

A large rat, is trying to peel off what remains of my toes

Kicking my foot, the rat strangely refuses to let go.


Looking about for a weapon, I can find none save a broken piece of wood.

Driving this into the furry creature, I am rewarded with it letting go of my toe and squirming under my pressure.

I set upon the rat with my bare hands; or finger bones as they are now.

Ripping and tearing, I picture my former friends, the creature is soon nothing more than a mass of fur and gore.

They must have came back for the treasure and left me here to be eaten by rats.

My skeletal frame just fits through the bars that contained me when I was whole.

I am just bones now, but a strange feeling of power is rising within me, begging to be unleashed.

I know not what its nature is, only that I must explore this strange feeling.

Free of my prison, I walk slowly at first, but soon gain speed.

I will have my revenge upon my former friends, but I cant return to town like this.

I must find some clothing and weapons, then they will pay. 

Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted.