Scierpan's Origin

The Origin of Scierpan the Asheater and the Legend of Aeldu the Asheater

here is the origin of Scierpan the Asheater. everything here actually happened.

an Asheater, for those who don’t know, is a Kobold who eats only the ashes of his or her enemies because it makes the Asheater stronger.

first, though, a story of another.

many years ago, too many to count, there lived a Kobold. this Kobold’s name has been lost to history. this Kobold became an Asheater and wandered aboveground for reasons that don't matter. for the purposes of this story, we will call him Aeldu. Aeldu lived for many years and sought all the ash that he could find, for his drive was incessant. he killed and burned indiscriminately, he cared not whether his foe was a pinky, a kobold, or any other kind of monster.

Aeldu’s scales were all stained black, not because he was a messy eater, but because he was in the habit of burning his foes as he killed them. ashes tended to get everywhere as a result of this, and years of fighting meant that there was no color left in his once vibrant scales. he fought with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other, and witnessing his fighting was like witnessing a flaming black tornado that mercilessly shredded and burned anything it touched.

the ash flying everywhere around him had the effect of blinding him over time, too, but he seemed to be able to sniff out worthy opponents. he had fought so long, too, that none of his senses applied to fighting any longer. he anticipated every move his opponents would make, and ended their lives before they could even consider a riposte.

after an incredible amount of time, Aeldu decided that there was no more worthy ash aboveground. he had no purpose besides becoming stronger and eating more ash, and so he was reduced to wandering rural Kobold settlements in the underdark, killing and burning any foes he encountered, weak or strong, who were unlucky enough to be drawn in by the light of his deceitful fire.

now for the story of Scierpan the Asheater, the story of how i became what i am.

i was hatched, raised, and taught alongside the other Kobolds my age, and I had a friend. his name was Andaga, and he aspired to be a warrior. i never had the urge to fight, myself, and was more inclined to help Andaga better himself than I was to improve my own fighting ability.

Andaga and i hatched next to each other, and our friendship was one of mutual benefit and a shared enjoyment of the other’s company. i was never one for fighting, and so i was pushed around a lot by other stronger Kobolds. andaga’s presence was a sort of protection for me. Andaga was very passionate about fighting, he loved the rush and the instantaneous battles of wits that fights presented. however, he found it difficult to stay interested in other things, so i helped him to engage with the things he generally didn’t care about.

Andaga and I were raised in a rural Kobold town far outside Moseewaa, the massive underground Kobold city, and we often explored outside our town’s walls, depending on our own diminutive size and on Andaga’s fighting prowess to keep us safe from the dangerous things hiding in the dark.

i remember one time in particular, we were walking together in an area of near darkness. the woods stunk of twilight and hunger, we knew we were not welcome. around us, we could vaguely see the outlines of some sparse vegetation and mossy rocks, but beyond that it was dark. Andaga was walking in front of me, calmly glancing at the surrounding terrain with a hand on his slender greatsword. i heard a clacking sound behind me and to my left, and i instantly stopped. noticing this, Andaga stopped as well, tossing a sideways glance over his shoulder without making any unnecessary movements.

from the darkness, a massive creature lumbered toward us. it was a Hook Horror, a massive bipedal beetle-like creature with a vulture’s head and legs, and two massive hooks where there could have been arms. it advanced slowly toward us, clacking rhythmically as it moved. Andaga and i wordlessly switched places so that he was between the creature and i. we knew about these creatures because Kobolds are so smart and because we knew our adventures would be hazardous. Andaga gritted his teeth in anticipation of the pain that he knew was imminent.

the Hook Horror suddenly lunged, swinging its huge hooks in tandem. Andaga ducked into its swing so as to avoid the deadly hooks, and he braced himself against both. the creatures hooks were around him, but he had his greatsword pushing against, and slightly stuck in, the base of one hook. the other was stopped momentarily by one of his legs. Andaga was tough for a Kobold, but I knew that even he wouldn’t last in that position for more than a few seconds. i ducked under his sword, drawing my great-dagger from its sheathe. before the Horror could react, i plunged my weapon into the weaker skin at the base of its beak and tore down into its throat. the creature reeled back in pain and relinquished its grip on my friend to swing at the tiny lizard stabbing it in the throat. unfortunately for it, the more dangerous lizard with a bigger weapon was now free to swing to his heart’s content.

Andaga, despite his now bleeding and probably broken foot, staggered forward and tore into the horror’s already weakened throat. he nearly severed it with his second cut, and the creature staggered backward. it made some gurgling clacks as it fell dead on its back. because i’m a Kobold and we invented all language, i knew that the entire fight it had been calling out to the others, saying where it was and that there was prey for the taking.

i knew that we had no chance against more of the creatures, so I helped Andaga up and found a small cave to hide in. the opening was small enough that he and I could get in simply by crouching, but there was no way that the rest of the nine-foot-tall creatures could get in. we waited there for a few hours as I tended to Andaga’s and my own wounds before staggering home alive.

on the day Andaga and i became adults, we went on another one of our excursions. we were wandering without really thinking because we were feeling confident. we were fully educated Kobolds now, after all; nothing was as smart or capable as us. in our confident stupor, we managed to wander further than we ever had before, until everything around us slowly faded to black. i mentioned this to Andaga, because he didn’t seem to have noticed yet. he was lost in our discussion about some new techniques he had been practicing.

i said, “Andaga, the things you’re talking about are enlightening, but the world around us has been endarkening for some time now. perhaps we should begin to find our way back to where we came from.”

Andaga replied “Scierpan, you are wise as always, but you are perhaps underestimating me. tell me, has there ever been a time that my prowess with a greatsword has failed to preserve our lives and get us back home?”

i answered “you know that we have never failed to return, but we have also not ventured this far before. i believe in your ability to fight, but i also believe that much of your fighting depends on your sight. i see some light in the distance there, will you humor me this time?”

he agreed to head toward the light with me, and we set off. as we approached it, it became clear that the light was not emanating from civilization but from a campfire. sitting next to the campfire was a Kobold, but he seemed to be in shadow despite his proximity to the fire. as we approached, he lifted his snout, as if sniffing the air. at this, we paused, calling out to him that we were fellow Kobolds and were not a threat. he didn’t react to this, but we assumed he understood us because all Kobolds are intelligent.

as we got closer to the small space illuminated by the fire, I noticed the shadowy Kobold grabbing a stick out of the fire. as he did that, he reached behind his back, and I heard the familiar sound of a blade leaving a sheath. i glanced at Andaga and saw him beginning to reach for his own weapon. the other Kobold began stalking toward us, torch in one hand and blade in the other. he was not looking at me or at Andaga, but staring at the ground and walking with a careful yet wandering gait. it was as if he was drunk and sleepwalking all at once, a practiced but unsteady motion in one.

then, all of a sudden, he was upon us. before Andaga could even unsheathe his blade, the dark Kobold had severed his arms and cut his throat cleanly through. before his limp body or arms touched the ground, he was dead set ablaze. for a moment i was comforted by the thought that at least he could regenerate reasonably quickly. but that hope was quickly squashed when Andaga [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], ascertaining that he could never regenerate.

it was all over in a matter of seconds. i fell down in terror, momentarily staring at the shadowy Kobold’s dull scales with the fire flickering in the background. after a few seconds that stretched into eternity, i clumsily picked myself up and staggered home, my eyes glazed over in fear and disbelief. for several days after the fact were the terrified expression on Andaga’s face and the hunger with which the shadowy Kobold devoured my friend’s ashes were all i remembered.

for the next few weeks, i spent all of my time learning about the shadowy Kobold. at this point, learning was all i knew how to do, so that’s how i distracted myself from my grief and began to move into action. i pieced together the story of Aeldu from rumors whispered in the dark by terrified witnesses and from those who had heard stories similar to mine. i learned, too, of the Asheaters, and realized that becoming one was the only way i could possibly come close to having the power i witnessed in Aeldu. i would eat the ash of the powerful so as to become as powerful as them, and eventually i would consume his ashes and take my friend back.

in honor of Andaga, i decided that my fighting style would be focused on the use of greatswords, and that one day I would become as powerful as Aeldu so as to destroy him the way he destroyed my friend. then, when i finally bring my friend back as part of my own body, he can finally be the mighty warrior that he always dreamt of being. i am writing this true story down now so that i never descend into insanity as Aeldu has, and so that i do not lose my path for Andaga’s sake. i ask that any who call me their friend would remind me of this story if i start to go over the edge, and i ask that even if the ash blinds me that my story would be told aloud so that i know never to become what i hate. my journey is not my own, i fight for myself and for my first true friend’s peace.

-Scierpan