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Agalma, the Lonely, Amnesiac Gargoyle.

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1 Agalma, the Lonely, Amnesiac Gargoyle. on Tue Apr 10, 2018 8:43 pm

Not a breath of life went in my lungs, not a beat of any heart throbbed inside of my chest, and not a pulse went through any vein as I...."awakened" from what definitely wasn't slumber. I felt the overwhelming stiffness in my legs and abdomen as I tried to sit up and get a grip. As I found difficulty in rising, annoyance quickly filled my mind...but then softness, loosened joints seemed to follow this. Slowly, I stood up and examined both my hands and my...self, only to see that they were a solid, dark gray. "Am I made of stone? What am I? Who am I?" The thoughts ran through my head as did many others, mainly questioning my identity, even though I had plenty about my surroundings as well. I sat up far above the tiny land below me, atleast 300 feet tall in full height I thought.

The landscape around me was about as promising as my life had already seemed, dismal and filled with lava, empty of anything remotely close to life aside from me...if I even counted. Still curious about myself, I ran my large, stone hands all along the armor that I wore, and all along the chiseled statue that I occupied. "I resemble a female?", I thought to myself. I reached around my backside to feel the metallic blade, the greatsword I'd awoken with. This armor, my body, this sword of mine...they're the only clues I had at the time, and yet I knew nothing about any of them. The only thing that I had left were my instincts, and they only made me question things more. "Why does it feel so natural to hold this blade? Why does it pulsate in the fashion that it does when I hold it? Am I even alive?". Too many thoughts raced through my mind, and something told me that I wasn't going to be getting answers anytime soon. Doing the only thing I could think to do, I wandered....trying to search for answers.

Finally, a small fortress found its way to me in this strange land. A blacksmith, one older, larger, and overweight; but nonetheless small like most things were here, stood on the outside. Some manifestation of fire was in front of him as he stood in a corner for whatever reason, I assume because the fire spirit wished to do him harm. Having no time to wait and demanding answers, I responded by flicking the living fire being away, and smothering it with the bottom of my boot until there was no more living fire. The smith's reaction elicited a slight chuckle from me, as his face couldn't make up its mind on being utterly terrified of me or relieved...though I'm guessing it preferred the former. I knelt down and casually spoke to him, to which.....he finally lost his fear and could speak to me without stuttering. Once he'd become reasonable, we started having a significant dialogue.

"Where are we?", I asked...wanting to cut straight to the point. "Why, Kaldor of course!", the man explained. I tilted my head sideways, looking at him intently and inquisitively. This was some foreign land to me, everywhere was. Nowhere was home, and nothing was my name, who I was, what I was. I came from nothing, and my friends are no one as far as I knew. I swallowed a bit hard, or atleast...it felt like a swallow I think? "That doesn't help me at all, but thank you for your knowledge. Is Kaldor the region or the planet or what? And also, where can I go that doesn't look so damned depressing?" , I questioned. The man giggled a bit in response to me, before examining his surroundings, and finally talking back to me: "The place is pretty god awful, I'll give you that. If it weren't for my pay, I'd be moping around in Verteron still most likely. What's your name, gargoyle?" . Unsure of what to tell him, I just told him the truth. "I don't really have a name. I don't know what to call myself." . The man frowned at first, but then smiled again. He had that look in his eyes, they lit up. The smith had thought of something clever. "You're big, strong, and seem dense like an amalgam of metals. So how about we call you....Agalma?" . This made me feel rather warm at the sound of this.

I had a name now. The smith had personified me, acknowledged me as someone just like him. He made me smile, so I decided to sit down and have a little chitchat with him. For whatever reason, he wanted to sit in my lap, so I let him not thinking much of it. It wasn't until he explained what reproduction in humans was, that I made him get off. Before that we discussed Atreia, and he told me about hunger, thirst, emotions, discourse, being a person, and plenty of other things. He talked about the evils, and good deeds, committed by several other women of my stature, as well as the weird things that alot of them tried with beings of much smaller, impractical sizes like his own. Despite his own weirdness, I came to enjoy the presence of the smith....but his talks only made me more curious about the world, and of myself. What was my purpose here? Why am I "alive"? Why have I been brought to this strange land? Are the gods this cruel or bored of amusement that they must send me to this land of lewdness and cruelty? Still lacking an identity, I went to scrounge through the lands of this strange planet, with not even a single inkling of why I was created, or what my purpose was. Only time would tell....

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