Xenofizz
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(7/29/00 12:14 pm)
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Piccollo Wolverine - The Kind Evil (intro-LONG)
He was born the runt of the pack. His mother laid a many eggs that hard winter. It was a winter to remember. The wars between the Dragons and his tribe raged on. The Dragons had tried many sieges on Sebilis. A mother and father had no time to treat their young with respect, being a barren culture during a time of war. They placed Piccollo, along with his 2 brothers and 3 sisters on a barrel barge bound for open sea.
Piccollo was too young to understand the next year that passed. When he was the age of 2, still afloat on the barrel barge, reality came into check. He started speaking to his siblings. They knew not of the evil that plagued their old tribe, so they did not use their barren ways, instead they bonded.
It was 2 months into the third year that slowly, his siblings had died beside him in their sleep, one by one. They had entered a very icy water, one that no one knew well. Being cold-blooded, they could not take the cold and passed away. Piccollo was the only survivor, and he would be destined to carry on as the strong of the pack and not the runt!
A week later he cut his brothers and sisters open to make jackets and armour out of them, for their souls now rested in peace. To survive he had to do what he could at all costs. He had made a warm coat of scales to use whilst he searched the horizon for land every day, feeding on fish and small seals he dragged from the ocean.
He had nearly given up all hope, it must have been fate though, because all hope was not gone. He had fainted due to lack of food and rested in tranquility, when his boat struck something. Not an iceberg, or a whale carcass, but land. The land of the Frigid Plane. But he did not know that at the moment. All he knew, was he needed food. He hunted night and day, and scurried up some gnoll hides for new armour and goblin meat to feast on. He traveled, not knowing where he would end up. He saw a man, a very tall stout man. Then more, it was a pack of hunters, of a race of which he didn't know.
He had nearly broke the unconsciousness of when the hunters banged him over the head with a war club. He looked up and saw four faces. Three were arguing on one man to kill me and make me a feast for the town. The one though, was a special man, and his word saved Piccollo's life. His name was Gardner Wolverine. A kind hunter of the town of Halas and one who practiced the controversial ways of the Shaman.
He brought Piccollo under his wing to train him. He taught Piccollo how to fight, how to conserve body heat, and how to be a good lizard over-all. In the end, Piccollo turned out to be a fierce melee threat relying on his own resources. He participated in town battles, in the town of Halas and won every single one.
Out of all due respect, Piccollo took Gardner's last name as a tribute to him and considered him a brother. Piccollo was now off to train in the real world, against real threats. He was almost killed in human cities due to his appearance. A lizard man, or as some called him, an Iksar were not appreciated in those times, as all thought to me be evil. So he hunted in barren remote areas for a good deal of his life.
On his twentieth birthday, or which he thought at least was his 20th birthday, he gazed on the horizon, and realized, no matter who hated him, or what people desired to kill his kind, he would find more of his kind, continue to be nice to all, and most of all be a fierce fighter.
Gardner once told him: "Do not hate humans, if you cannot live with them, at least do them no harm, for theirs is already a hard lot."
To be continued...
Piccollo Wolverine, Lizard-man Monk of the 21st Scale
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