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Jofur MUR
ARKLINE
Lokun Listamenn
42
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Posted - 2013.05.17 16:52:00 -
[1] - Quote
**work in progress**
>>download: file name: interview Mur Jofur
The thin and stretched wisp of smokes rose listlessly from the half smoked cigarette. Plunging the crippled remains of the cigarette into the basin of the ash collector, I extinguished the flame from existence GÇô its muffled scream issued forth with contempt at its execution. My lumbering senses could only hear the crunching of the remaining tobacco.
A moment passed as I waited in quite anticipation for him to begin. Across from me sat a man who exhumed the zealousness of traditional warrior pride of which the Minmatar were known for. His eyes, rich dark pools which composed the iris, stared intently from beneath the throes of thick bushy eyebrows. His face was broad and imposing, yet aside from the intricate tribal tattoos that sprung in intricate detail around his right eye and stretched the length of his face and neck disappearing beneath the collar of his garment, his skin was flawless; a tell-tale sign that he was indeed immortal.
I shuddered for a moment as I considered the profundity of what the destiny of being immortal would entail. As I composed myself once more I realized his gaze was still intently upon me. It was as though his gaze could pierce my being and in piercing my very existence, he knew exactly that my thoughts turned to the questions of his immortality.
I felt uneasy.
Who are you?
"Would you like to me to just state my name, or rather, would you like extensive insight into my personal history?GÇ¥ He quieted for a moment. Perplexed in confusion, I didnGÇÖt know if he expected me to answer him. An awkward silence drummed between us. I made to disturb the still quiet between us, and as I opened my mouth to answer him, he began once more. GÇ£My name is Jofur Baratur of the Sebiestor. No, thatGÇÖs not right. I am Mur. I am Jofur Mur. Do you know what Mur stands for? Probably not, I assume. Mur is a derogatory title placed upon Sebiestor tribe members when they are ostracized from the tribe. It translates roughly to GÇÿmiscreantGÇÖ or GÇÿscoundrelGÇÖ.GÇ¥ His gaze shifted slightly past me, as though he contemplated something. GÇ£What did I do in order to get ostracized? HmmGǪ how would you feel if you knew you were sitting across the table of a convicted murderer?GÇÖGÇ¥
A laugh escaped him.
GÇÿIt seemed with some tragic irony that I was fated to become a killer, even before I was born. Pator, my birth planet -not that I would ever care to call it home, in the village of Horaduhn, is where I was begotten. I was the product of the matrimony of two prominent community members within our tribe, the marmadin GÇôa local governor- and his wife. Promises of greatness and well-wishes of future prosperity were probably showered over my mother before my birth. Heh! Those blessings didnGÇÖt do **** to curb the talons of ill-fated destiny. I killed my mother as I was born. As far as I am aware, the doctors and surgeons couldnGÇÖt do anything for her, and during childbirth she died an excruciating and horrifying death.GÇ¥
GÇ£Years passed and resentment towards me from my father was evident; fueled with the ire of hate for shattering his perfect life, it burned passionately, until it was unbearable for him to burden and in drunken stupors he would lash out GÇôbeating me to near death. I was beat profusely throughout the years. I still have dreams of being beat by my father.
It was tragic, as a child I knew no better and I solemnly believed this ordeal I was experiencing was all part of being Minmatar. Our traditional education -although somewhat milder for Sebiestors- is riddled with the influence of the warrior culture. As children, we were pitted against our contemporaries in mock combat; we were unaware of the severity of these mock battles GÇôwe were being condition to show no compassion or remorse towards our enemies even when they were fellow children like ourselves. Fighting, struggle, the conflict of life and death are the aspects of which we are raised to understand, made most evident when in the hour of our coming-of-age ceremony draws near children are given a hestaku -a ceremonial knife, the childGÇÖs first weapon as an adult- and sent forth a kill from a hunt; the most daring go for carrasha GÇôbig game felines of the plains. Some never return from that experience to the village. Yet, only in this manner can the young Minmatar children be accepted as adults. We were bred to fight.GÇ¥
He paused a moment in contemplation and then with a single motion he withdrew a worn and tired looking blade from a scabbard that hung on his side. He held the knife in his hands with compassionate recognition.
GÇ£During my ceremony I recall my hestaku it shone brilliantly within the glow of the roaring fires. Yet, I didnGÇÖt realize it could shine far brighter and lovelier, almost to the point that it seemed as though it was alit with flames, until it was washed within the crimson essence of a person. A night and a day, after the ceremonies I killed my father. He was drunk, I was emboldened with my passage into adulthood, and we struggled as he went to beat me. I killed him. GÇ£
At this point he sheathed the knife. We fell in quiet contemplation. Me, analyzing what I just finished hearing, he lost in nostalgic reminiscing.
What occurred after?
Afterward, I was ostracized from the Sebiestor tribe and was banished from all of which I knew. ItGÇÖs ironic that it wasnGÇÖt the act of killing my father that drew forth the ire of my people, but rather the GÇ£murderingGÇ¥ of such an affluent member of the community that sealed my fate. It didnGÇÖt matter the torture I endured.GÇÖ
GÇÿEventually I got older, left Pator on the first ship available to carry me elsewhere. Those first few years were overwhelming and daunting and I often found myself depressed and desperate. It was hell to have to endure as a wandering homeless destitute.
>>pause file name: interview Mur Jofur
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Jofur MUR
ARKLINE
Lokun Listamenn
45
|
Posted - 2013.05.20 16:48:00 -
[2] - Quote
>>resume file name: interview Mur Jofur
I wonGÇÖt bring forth to light the events of those years. Nor will I in good consciousness relate any of the ordeals suffered, because, in earnest, I am not proud of all the things I had done. Yet, of all my experiences during those dark hours, one event, one chance meeting would inevitably change my fate -forever.
I was desperate, willing to commit almost any crime in order to survive just another day. It was a quiet morning, the beast of a city known as Tanell on Skarkon II still hadnGÇÖt arisen; in my wanderings GÇôsearching for anything to sustain me- I chanced upon an elderly man, who seemed to have taken a wrong direction. Lost within the winding passages of the low district, the only district you didnGÇÖt want to be lost in even in the early morning hours, the elder looked about seemingly confused. Poor fool probably didnGÇÖt realize what he got himself into. I didnGÇÖt take a long glance at him, but from the subtle hints of his attire and the fact that he was carrying a khumaak I could tell he was Minmatarian, more so from the brutor tribe. At the moment I didnGÇÖt consider bond of our history, nor our nation. I was depraved of loftier ideals; when a man is starved and crazed from desparation little matters to him, but his own selfish desire. Really did it matter if I he was Minmatar and so was I? No. Rule one of natural order of the universe, survival of the fittest.
My folly was that I didnGÇÖt pay more attention to detail.
The man I attempted to mug was none other than Maleatu Shakor, the sanmatar! My mistake left me with several broken bones and a severely bruised ego, but I also gained the opportunity I need to lift myself from the gutter of a life I existed within. The sanmatar shared not only his wisdom with this wayward Minmatar, but also gave me direction and purpose, and soon my life changed. After that I never looked back at what I was but rather I looked forward to see what limits I could reach and make myself all the greater.
I joined the Republic Naval forces shortly thereafter GÇôupon the behest of Maleatu Shakor.
In the year of YC 110, what occurred during the Empyrean Wars, that led you to the path to become an Immortal?
His eyes narrowed, yet he doesnGÇÖt look at me. He gazes off into space as he toils with the answer to the question within his mind. Memories long since dormant have probably arisen to torment him.
I was part of the 125nd Division -Dire Wolkgers, the telling of how I came to join the squad is long, but in short the its all thanks to that old brutor. At the tumultuous time leading to the Empyrean Wars the Minmatars were unknowingly split into two groups, one side GÇôwhich was the majority of the Minmatars whom were ignorant to certain events taking place- sided with the Republic, the other side- who were far fewer in numbers but privy to confidential information- stood for the Elders. I was in the latter. Courtesy of Maleatu Shakor. Thus I was attached to the 125nd division and sent into Amarrian space. Why Amarrian space? I am certain I donGÇÖt need to go into details, but as you know, it was discovered that the Starkmanir tribe had survived the Amarrian genocide from two hundred years prior. This caused an outcry of celebration within the Minmatar, and our spirits were never more united than it had been on that day that we learned the fascinating truth of the ill-fated Starkmanir. Yup, in one gratifying instantaneous moment, we were ready to raze the entire Cosmos -if need be- in order to bring our forgotten kin from myth into reality.GÇ¥
He falls silent once more. His eyes seem to glaze over with silent intensity.
GÇ£As a member of the Hearth Ember GÇôa Rupture class cruiser- we were sent to liberate the slaves of the ill-fated target within Amarrian space; Mekhios. You know the details. I wonGÇÖt go over them with you. We did what we could to assist those dying and we did what we could for our own survival.
What, you want personal information about Mekhios? You want my experiences? Gods-damn! What do you want me to tell you? Do you want to know in explicit details about seeing your crew, your comrades, your friends being ripped out of existence, and seeing their dead cold eyes as you panicked wondering why the **** it wasnGÇÖt you who died?GÇÖ
He clenched his fists, at my prodding of details of the infamous battle. I felt overwhelmed as he looked at me with burning black pools of eyes. In a moment of unexpected clarity I was certain this man could kill me without resentment and I mentally planned an attack, preparing my best chances of escape.
The attack never came. Although the tension between us was intense and felt like it could burst with each passing breath.
>>pause file name: interview Mur Jofur |
Jofur MUR
ARKLINE
Lokun Listamenn
45
|
Posted - 2013.05.20 16:50:00 -
[3] - Quote
>>resume file name: interview Mur Jofur
GÇ£When that Sarum ***** unloaded the terran weapon, the Titan barely had a jump gate available. Most ships never made it through...
The Hearth Ember -luckily or unluckily- just happened to be floating at the right place at the right time and its rent hull was pulled through in the wake of the gaping maw. Most of the crew was dead. I myself clung to life, although it was perverse concept of living. I was rotting away within a mangled husk of a body. I was dead; my stupid pride just couldnGÇÖt accept that fact.
After MekhiosGǪGǥ
He turned his attention to his hands, which he brought over the table, and held them before him as if in fascination. It should be noted that only the intricate tattoos that ran down over his right arm marred his unblemished skin.
GÇ£You know those moments when you dream and you realize that the dream isnGÇÖt a dream but something more? Like seemingly dying and going to paradise? And when you realize that the dream is in fact a dream and you begin to awaken, you struggle to return to the dream because the real world is just a bleak and barren excuse for an existence most living it donGÇÖt want?
I awoke one day. The leathery and creased face of the old brutor hovered over me; his smile although welcoming felt strange, like the snarl of a predator before a death dealing strike. I donGÇÖt remember much, yet in short I was emerged within vat which contained a pale-rose hued fluid GÇôamniotic fluid. When I was pulled forth from the amniotic fluid vat, the old brutor stated something that has been embedded into my mind ever since, GÇ£tul raok armok armok raok tul!GÇ¥
It translates to GÇÿWe burden our breath, our breath burdens us.GÇÖ
I have burdened a many hours pondering the words of the sanmatar. In its basic context the phrase just states it is all the same, yet in what context did the old brutor mean as I emerged forth from immortal project?
I donGÇÖt know, nor will I waste your time in attempting to decipher it.
But I believeGǪ Recall when I mentioned that I was a murderer? Well, due to my rebirth as an immortal that I am not only a murderer, but an undying killer as well as an engineered plague whose true purpose is to purge the flaws from the concept of what our leaders believe New Eden to be. Although, I have come to realize that we canGÇÖt be taken under sway by the very nature of our being. We, liken to the molten metal within the flames of a forge, can be reformed and wrought in different fashions and forged into new destinies.
The fate of New Eden falls now upon immortals. Yet, regardless of our advancements, as we pierce the natural boundaries of life and death, I think it is like the old brutor stated GÇ£it is all the same.GÇ¥
In our turbulent times, the only thing that matters shall be our own choices and the personal convictions we pay in order to make those choices.
Which path do we choose?GÇ¥
He brought his hands down on the table and lifted himself; rising from his chair. I urged him to stay, yet my attempts were in vain. As he turned his back to me making his path out of the room, I knew I would never meet the man again.
Thus ends my interview with Jofur Mur.
>>close file name: interview Mur Jofur |
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