Herzikiel was a carpenter. Poor in pocket as he was in talent.
From a young age, he had actively repressed his desires to dress like his sister and this had caused him to become recluse and emotionally closed off. Cross-dressing was not taboo in the town of Tannoth, nor any region of Ulderheim. Gender and sexuality were fluid for many people however Herzikiel still felt ashamed of his inner most wants. There was a complete lack of self awareness which had resulted in the development of a dark psychological suppression. Herzikiel was afraid of being himself, and seeking acceptance, buried his truth so deep it had formed a pit in his soul. In a bid to encourage him out of himself, his mother and father had enrolled him in Archibald Glenliversnip’s School of Carpentry. After completing his apprenticeship, he setup a small stall in the town centre and began to sell his carvings to passing travellers and tradesmen. At least he tried to sell his carvings...
In the first four months not a single item had been exchanged or purchased. This was all due to his innermost feelings rupturing forth into his hands, and revealing themselves through his creations. Not one person that stopped at his stall wanted to acquire one of his transvestite statues of the various gods and heroes of Ulderheim. The whole continent was a very accepting place unless of course you defiled or depicted a hero or god as anything but their glorious selves. Not only were people offended by his statues due to their corruption of the images of beloved legendary figures, but also they were shit. They looked really, really shit.
Every day he watched on as people simply strolled by, never stopping to even ask why he had The Ghost of War in a formal ball gown, or why Evangeline the Savvy had a moustache etched onto her face. Nervous smiles escaped their faces as some tried to contain their laughter or horror so not to offend him.
Herzikiel had nearly given up on ever being a success until one fateful day, a mysterious and strange looking figure subtly emerged from the crowd of shoppers and made its way over to him. The stranger was a stumpy old man, wrapped in a cloak that engulfed him like the dark of an abyss. His icy looking hand moved out from under the swamp of robes and towards one of the feeble carvings of the deified hero Jet. There in all his glory was Jet, dressed in a busty gown with etched roses on both strips of the lace. The stranger brought the statuette up to his wrinkly nose and placed it between the firm bristles of his nose hair. Sniffing and snorting, the man began to salivate before placing the statue back down on the table. He reached into his pocket and fidgeted around until he found his coin purse. A gold coin peeked out of the bag and nearly blinded Herzikiel as the sunlight reflected off and into his eyes. The carpenter felt the weight of the gold in his hand.
You are my first ever customer! Thank you for your trade, kind stranger.
The old man croaked and coughed and splattered bile onto his cloak. He wiped his chin with his hand and wet his lips before replying.
Think nothing of it. I have not had such an arousal in many years. My balls are tight and my penis firm. Your erotic idol creations are a blessing.
Stunned into silence, Herzikiel suddenly realised that his creations had become a pornographic stimulator for an old, decrepit todger. He couldn’t complain though, after all he had earned himself one gold coin.
In fact, I would be interested in purchasing many more of your statues. You see... I am a Mockerlite.
Herzikiel didn’t know hwo to react. He had heard of the Mockerlites from tales his father told him as a boy. The Mockerlites were an infamous sect of strange people that worshipped the gods and goddesses through satirical practices. They were a detested group of heretics, yet Herzikiel couldn’t stop staring at the gold coin in his hand.
Some fear us but we are simply worshipping the great beings in our own way. We mean no harm. These statues would be adored and held to high regard in our weekly services. The other member of my underground church would love them. I will go and get my larger purse and when I return, I want to buy every single one of your creations.
There’s thirty-seven statues in total on my stall.
Then I will give you thirty-seven gold coins. But carrying these will be tricky. I’m not as spritely and strong as I used to be.
Don’t worry. I have a trailer you can use. It’s at home. I’ll go and get it and start loading them up!
The withered man turned away and left with his defiled statue of Jet. Herzikiel was frozen in his place. The surge of excitement had caused his entire body to spasm. Like a daft maid clawing at her friends in order to get the bouquet at a wedding, Herzikiel forced himself forward and through the crowd. His legs unstuck, he began running as fast as he could to get home and collect the trailer. On his way back to his family house, he couldn’t stop thinking of how much money he would earn if the old man paid a gold coin for every statue on his table. He would in no way be rich but he would be more than comfortable! The carpenter was in such a rush to get home that he didn’t realise the locals were not walking past him to go the well for midday prayers, but were also running, just in the opposite direction. In fact he was so removed from reality that he hadn’t noticed the scream and blood curdling roars erupting from the direction in which he was headed. It wasn’t until he bounced off a giant black and red boulder that he even realised anything was occurring.
Looking up from the flat of his back, he noticed the large out of place boulder was not actually a rock at all, but was in fact a horrific and terrifying creature.
It appeared humanoid at first glance, and was at least 14 foot tall. It towered over him and wreaked of intimidation and evil. Its muscular form flexed, and stirring beneath its tinged skin was a gaseous mix of black and red, swirling and drifting like late evening mist on a lake.
It was an immense force.
The creature roared and beat its chest, each thump cascading ripples into the air. The devilish monster lunged at the nearest house and pulled a chunk of wall away, causing the building to collapse into nothing but dust. Stepping forward, the immense force began to magikly charge the rubble with the same sinister gaseous energy that appeared to coarse through its flesh.
Herzikiel was once again frozen only this time, by complete dread. He could not move. He couldn’t fix his stare on anything else other than the vile beast before him. It was for this reason that his fame and success would be brief. He would not live to sell another piece.
The immense force hurled the large wreck of the house at the poor and confused carpenter. As it flew through the air, time slowed, allowing him to notice every crack and bump of the bulk as it came crashing down above him. The rocks landed on his head, crushing it into his torso, which in turn forced downwards into his thighs, and eventually his feet. In this compressed form, his bones splintered and pierced through his skin. His organs turned to mulch. The power from the mystically charged rock caused his hands and wrists to explode out and off, shooting upwards into the sky like flares for a distressed ship. The immense force crouched down to the mess of the man smeared across the grass. Placing its hand into the pool of guts, it scooped a handful and brought it up to its lips to taste it. Fragments of Herzikiel’s bones were spat out as the creature grunted and huffed, before once more carrying on with its path of total destruction across the town.
The townspeople continued to flee from the immense force as it tore through their rustic homes and well-attended gardens. A pile of smashed novelty gnomes had accrued next to a large heap of dead bodies. The two mounds had much in common for the creature had treated the people of Tannoth like they were made of porcelain. Stacks of rubble framed the newly created landscape of garden ornaments and blood garnished corpses. The town of Tannoth was devastated and yet the beast was not finished. Aside from its bulking muscular physique (which seemed to allow it to dismantle any object in its way) the creature also demonstrated a fiery projectile ability which had set several trading carts and livestock ablaze. The smell of burning beef had filled the air as the giant continued to stomp and smash. Had they been basted in Aunt Fessie’s BBQ sauce then with all the commotion you might have mistaken the disturbance for the annual Tannoth Summer Fair. This was not the case of course, this was an absolute massacre and there was no tombola in sight.
A group of teenagers combusted violently as the creature launched its magical flames outward and down onto them. The screams pierced the environment with a shrill shriek.
The force continued its rampage as it hurled flaming trade carts into the nearby tavern, which caused the volatile ethanol mixtures to explode. Barrels of Old Tomley McGinnery’s Scabs and Footsore Paste Based Beer had ignited upon impact and sent the roof of the much favoured public house, hurtling to the heavens. The sign of the tavern, known to locals as The Nobody Inn, ironically landed on its owner, Greg Baxely, leaving him with no body and just a severed head which rolled down the hillside along with the remnants of beer barrels.
Its last vile act was to climb on top of the well and laugh as it squeezed out an intoxicating stench. The defecation was like a tainted molten rock that poured into the town's water supply and turned the famous well into a container of black sludge. Once the creature had completed its exercise it left, cleared the scene, the only evidence of its existence was the melting and fiery rubble that lined the streets of Tannoth. A few thunderous steps sounded out as it charged off into the distance and although each earth shattering pulse could be heard across the town, the people were not concentrating on its departure. Their attention lay with the charred remains of their loved ones and incinerated livelihoods that were slowly collapsing around them.
The Eldritch Chronicles
Explore the continent of Ulderheim, its ancient daemon infested history and the crazed gods that rule the mortal and near-immortal races.