Deities and Legends for Everyone

[Aniikinis]

The Hunter Clad in Wrongness
It is said that there exists a hunter out in the wilds, one who seems to be natural and like all the other humans you've seen, at first. No one knows where he comes from or even what he is. It is said that he comes from a world that is not our own. Some say he found our world after solving a grand labyrinth. Others that he passed through reality itself and threatened the gods of his home, only to be flung into ours as penance. Yet still others call him a creature of some outer plane or the far cloaked in the flesh of the living. But there is a small number who fear that he is something else entirely.

However, all legends and stories agree on a few things. The man is profoundly other, not in the raw arcane way that sorcerers or warlocks are, but in a way that seems to corrupt the very essence of reality surrounding him. The man loves the hunt, specifically of beasts that would make mortal men go white with terror or have their heart seize, and he is known to take trophies from his kills. The man almost never seems to be where he should be, as though he is askew with the way the world is oriented. His weapons are few but powerful and he may will them into his hands with nary a thought and will them back with less. And finally, that to look into his eyes is to know all of the flaws of creation.

Some tales say the man slew the great tarrasque and stole its' regeneration for his trophy, but others say the beast still slumbers and he took something else. Some tales tell of a dark creature stalking the night and feasting upon the souls and dreams of villages, turning nightmares into reality and every moment into a waking hell for the inhabitants, only to be slain with but a strike of his sword and its' head taken. A few tell of the man dueling with a cunning beast who drove entire countries into disarray with its' power, but falling to the man after being shorn in half with an axe large enough for a giant to wield. Tales abound, each stranger and more unbelievable than the last, but each ending in the same way. Save for two, that is.

The first tells of a young boy lost in a deep wood for many days. The boy fled from beasts and monsters, from the very darkness itself that wished to feast upon his flesh, only to encounter the hunter in a secluded glade his sword freshly buried in his newest kill. The boy ran forwards fearfully, believing that a death by the hunter would be more painless and quick than whatever lay behind him, only to meet the hunter's gaze and stop dead in his tracks. He was in no danger and could see all that was hidden to, and from, him in those blackwhitemagentawrong eyes.

The hunter embraced the boy and gave him shelter, feeding and giving him drink, and the boy felt safe for the first time in days. When the boy awoke the next morning he was in the center of his village with no marks or anything noting he had been lost, save for a single scarf left him by the hunter, woven with the same wrongness that had been so comforting the night before. The boy lived the rest of his days peacefully, knowing that he could thank the man for saving his life that night and that he'd always have a piece of the one spoken in hushed tones to prove his story whenever he spoke it.

The second tells of a young man in a distant land. Walking along one day he happened to find a wooden door in a flat stone wall where there was none before. He found this odd and saw that there were no markings to tell that the door was there or had ever existed. Upon opening the door he felt a strong urge to walk within though it lead to bare rock. His legs moving on their own carried him through the wall and into another world. The man found himself in a strange place with no door behind him, only flat walls and a dim light suffused throughout. Without any other recourse, he set about to find an exit.

Corridor after corridor, room after room, next to no noise even from his own footsteps, he traveled. The scenery almost never changing. The same walls, lighting, and floor wherever he went. He found many exits, but none to his own world, few to those he could survive on, and even fewer that would have counted as inhabited. Barren worlds of tombs, of ruins and ancient necropoli were more common than worlds of lush vegetation or even sparse scrub-land. What he learned from exploration into these worlds, he applied to his journey towards finding a new home. The skills of survival, of tracking, hiding, running, mapping, and more were taught to him in Darwinian ways. He either adapted to this life, or he would die, and he refused to die before finding his home.

Years passed, and the young man grew. His time learning, surviving, and plundering the tombs and treasures of long dead lands had made him into a force to be reckoned with. After so much time searching, he had given up on the hope of finding his original home and upon had finding a world similar to his own he decided to make it his home. He found happiness for the first time in ages. Living, learning, and befriending people in this new world had given him something he had needed since he was brought into that endless maze, and for many years it was perfect.

Then, came the Being. It cared not for what it found, only for what it could feed upon and corrupt. This thing threatened the man's new home and he vowed to stop it. Using all of the knowledge, skills, items, and relics he had gained on his journey he set out to slay the monster tearing his world asunder and after many grueling months of battle, strategy, and observation, he succeeded. The clash with the beast brought to play every trick and skill he had learned in his long life and nearly broke him completely. This thing was not of this worlno, this thing couldn't exist and yet it did. It fed upon and corrupted everything it touched and devouredabsorbederased its' victims from existence itself. He had to kill it, if only to save his home.

In the end, the thing died leaving a desolate expanse of nothing surrounding it and the man fighting it, but it was too late. The man was heavily wounded and, upon striking the final blow, realized what ruin had been wrought. Their fight had torn so much of the world apart, that it was dying with no way to fix it as too much had been erased or succumbed to the corrupting influence of the beast. The lone man himself was even effected. He had taken many blows from the creature before he could bring it down, and he felt his on body beginning to give way to the being's erasure.

With a scream of terrible, abhorrent rage, the man called to what was left of the sky and proclaimed that he would not die to this being's curse, forcing the touch of the beast to bend to his will and merge with his very being. He called out to the gods that were worshiped by the people of the world and in a torrent of blasphemous proclamations, vowed that he would kill them himself for their inability to stop the beast. This act of defiance and hatred caught the attention of the gods, who, after a few quick decisions, brought him to their realm. Upon arriving in their sanctum, the man began his assault, but was instantly restrained and forced to be tried for the crimes of blasphemy, interfering with divine will, and, worst of all, being a nuisance to the gods who had ordered that his home be erased completely by a being they had neither control nor knowledge of.

This kangaroo court had found him guilty in all forms and flung him across the realms to a land similar to his original home. There he remains, protecting the inhabitants from beasts and abhorrent things. All the while honing his skills, steeling his nerves, and searching for an opening to that terrible maze. Hungering for the day he may find the land ravaged by that terrible thing and enact his revenge on those beings that had been called gods. That day will come, and when it does, the man may finally find peace.

Of course, all intelligent people know that those stories are all false, right? ...right?