Voda Vosa
First Post
I kind let go and wrote a BUNCH of background.
Sahid Yetemar was born in 1425 in the times of the great Ottoman wars against Europe. At the age of 17 he enrolled the Ottoman armada and embarked to fight the British navy, which were attempting to gain control over some of the Mediterranean islands under Ottoman control.
A janissary was armed with a musket and a scimitar, and their training in the war art was exemplar. But in the heat of battle, little means a good training if you don’t have the nerves to stand the sound of bullets, deadly bullets flying over your head, or seen what a canon can do to a man.
In the battle of Rhodes a quarter of the Ottoman fleet was decimated, however the Ottomans achieved an important victory. Sahid Yetemar was severely wounded, and as he agonized on a warm Mediterranean night, he asked to be taken out of the cabin, to stare at the full moon one last time. Since he was born he felt something special each time he watched at the full moon. He felt every vein of his body, every cell.
As he was taken out and the moonlight shined over him, he silently sealed a pact with it. He wanted to be like the moon, to be a beacon of hope, a saviour, a light in the darkest night.
Sahid didn’t die that night.
Back in his homelands, he discovered that the moon had awakened something within him. Something that was always there, but hidden. Every night, Sahid walked to a cliff next to his house, from where he could see the moon above the waves of the ocean. He watched the moon controlling the waters, and through practice and imitation he learned from the moon, learned the peaceful and gentle moves to control and bend water to his will.
Power corrupts. Soon after he learned how to control the basics, Sahid tried to make a living assaulting goods transports and tax collectors. As soon as he began robbing and killing, the moon gave its back to him. To his eyes, the moon was black, featureless, and void.
Sahid tried to master the element by himself, through practice and error. He learned dread techniques from other natural water benders, like some plants that drain the water from the soil, or even from other plants. He learned the raw power of water from the waves of the ocean. He travelled to the far north, to the arctic tundra of Siberia and learned to shape water and change its fasces. In London he learned to control and make mist to cover his tracks and hide from his enemies.
He made men burst in bloody clouds, and used the blood’s water to shield himself from harm. As he spin and moved his arms in the dance of the moon, blood surged from the pores of his target, and began to swirl around him, and join in bigger drops, like a swarm liquid rubies. Then with a sudden outstretching of his arm, the drops transformed into sharp needles, and propelled forward, piercing his foes.
Pursed by his crimes, Sahid left Europe, and travelled to Asia. It was inChina, where he learned the direst techniques of all. Studying with the Shoaling monks of Tibet, he learned about the chakras and the flow of energy in the body.
These key points were essential for the functioning of the body, and closing or opening the chakras would have diverse effects, depending on the combinations made. As the monks taught him, Sahid developed a twisted version himself, in which he controlled the flux of blood through the chakras, effectively controlling the target’s body.
He had made such a name that many powerful man wanted to hire him as a hitman, and weak of mind as he was, Sahid let himself into many assassination attempts and government hits. The Red Sahid, the Puppeteer, and others were his nicknames.
The moon was red, full of the blood he had spill.
As years went by, the world evolved, but Sahid was trapped in the past. He understood that the eternal life that the moon gave him was more a curse than a gift. Soon the world forgot about him, it was more easy and effective to press a button and destroy an entire city and pay a hitman, who now in face of the modern weapons was not as effective as he once was.
What could terrify an immortal more, than being forgotten? Thrown into oblivious forever.
Alone, Sahid raised his hands to the moon, asking for forgiveness. But it was too late. He saw the first missile from the cliff next to his original house. Soon after, the world died. Sahid felt much of that was because of him. He once had the power to change the world, and instead, used it to further sink it into corruption.
He promised to himself the day he was boarding the ship to mars, that he’d never use blood control again. That day, the moon was less red.
Sahid Yetemar was born in 1425 in the times of the great Ottoman wars against Europe. At the age of 17 he enrolled the Ottoman armada and embarked to fight the British navy, which were attempting to gain control over some of the Mediterranean islands under Ottoman control.
A janissary was armed with a musket and a scimitar, and their training in the war art was exemplar. But in the heat of battle, little means a good training if you don’t have the nerves to stand the sound of bullets, deadly bullets flying over your head, or seen what a canon can do to a man.
In the battle of Rhodes a quarter of the Ottoman fleet was decimated, however the Ottomans achieved an important victory. Sahid Yetemar was severely wounded, and as he agonized on a warm Mediterranean night, he asked to be taken out of the cabin, to stare at the full moon one last time. Since he was born he felt something special each time he watched at the full moon. He felt every vein of his body, every cell.
As he was taken out and the moonlight shined over him, he silently sealed a pact with it. He wanted to be like the moon, to be a beacon of hope, a saviour, a light in the darkest night.
Sahid didn’t die that night.
Back in his homelands, he discovered that the moon had awakened something within him. Something that was always there, but hidden. Every night, Sahid walked to a cliff next to his house, from where he could see the moon above the waves of the ocean. He watched the moon controlling the waters, and through practice and imitation he learned from the moon, learned the peaceful and gentle moves to control and bend water to his will.
Power corrupts. Soon after he learned how to control the basics, Sahid tried to make a living assaulting goods transports and tax collectors. As soon as he began robbing and killing, the moon gave its back to him. To his eyes, the moon was black, featureless, and void.
Sahid tried to master the element by himself, through practice and error. He learned dread techniques from other natural water benders, like some plants that drain the water from the soil, or even from other plants. He learned the raw power of water from the waves of the ocean. He travelled to the far north, to the arctic tundra of Siberia and learned to shape water and change its fasces. In London he learned to control and make mist to cover his tracks and hide from his enemies.
He made men burst in bloody clouds, and used the blood’s water to shield himself from harm. As he spin and moved his arms in the dance of the moon, blood surged from the pores of his target, and began to swirl around him, and join in bigger drops, like a swarm liquid rubies. Then with a sudden outstretching of his arm, the drops transformed into sharp needles, and propelled forward, piercing his foes.
Pursed by his crimes, Sahid left Europe, and travelled to Asia. It was inChina, where he learned the direst techniques of all. Studying with the Shoaling monks of Tibet, he learned about the chakras and the flow of energy in the body.
These key points were essential for the functioning of the body, and closing or opening the chakras would have diverse effects, depending on the combinations made. As the monks taught him, Sahid developed a twisted version himself, in which he controlled the flux of blood through the chakras, effectively controlling the target’s body.
He had made such a name that many powerful man wanted to hire him as a hitman, and weak of mind as he was, Sahid let himself into many assassination attempts and government hits. The Red Sahid, the Puppeteer, and others were his nicknames.
The moon was red, full of the blood he had spill.
As years went by, the world evolved, but Sahid was trapped in the past. He understood that the eternal life that the moon gave him was more a curse than a gift. Soon the world forgot about him, it was more easy and effective to press a button and destroy an entire city and pay a hitman, who now in face of the modern weapons was not as effective as he once was.
What could terrify an immortal more, than being forgotten? Thrown into oblivious forever.
Alone, Sahid raised his hands to the moon, asking for forgiveness. But it was too late. He saw the first missile from the cliff next to his original house. Soon after, the world died. Sahid felt much of that was because of him. He once had the power to change the world, and instead, used it to further sink it into corruption.
He promised to himself the day he was boarding the ship to mars, that he’d never use blood control again. That day, the moon was less red.
