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HerculeHastings

Thebbell Zuowuo

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This is a character for a roleplay that hasn't started yet. Thebbell is the son of a Forest Spirit, who has long hair and looks rather feminine, and lives by himself in the forest, under the unseen guard of the Forest Spirit. He also rather fancies a spot of archery.

 

In the roleplay, he would meet a princess who has been placed by the Forest Spirit under his custody, and they would both return to the palace to fight off the court intrigue that had taken place under the influence of some nasty spirits. However, since I've no idea how that will turn out, I'll just play out his days in the forest.

 

However, you guys are free to lead him out of the forest to your own fantasy worlds.

 

Day 1

 

The flowers are pretty accurate in telling me the time of the year. When they start blooming to their full glory, when the slush slowly trickles off their petite leaves, it means spring is here, and the animals will be out roaming the wilds again, and I should leave my cave.

 

I'm not sure what there is to do outside the cave that I haven't already done, though. My only conversation partners are the Tree Spirits and the Earth Spirit, who are always telling me to venture into the Forbidden Clearing in the forest, which is of course named "forbidden" for a reason. What is most annoying is that I am starting to be tempted. I look at the bright, colourful, vibrant Forbidden Clearing (what is forbidden is always the most attractive) and I start to take just one step in its direction. And then I remember the consequences of defying the Forest Spirit, and I return to my mundane, routine, everyday tasks of shooting arrows at trees and tending to injured animals. I don't even like tending to injured animals, but it is at least something to do, and it is always heartwarming to see a deer nuzzle against you with a bandage around its leg.

 

But I'm sure I was made for something more. I feel as if the Forest Spirit is deliberately restricting me here, suppressing my dreams. What does fate have in store for me?

 

I would leave the forest, but it is as good as entering the Forbidden Clearing. The forest is vast and sprawling, and I don't know what the city is like. I wouldn't stay very long out there either. Sometimes I just hate the Forest Spirit, for keeping me in here, out of human contact. I need a reason to do anything, something to tell me I wouldn't be living out my life and dying here, my remains used as manure for the next sapling.

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O brave son of the Forest Spirit! Lumberjacks are encroaching upon your forest! What shall you do?

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What wrong things? *whistles innocently*

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Scenario: A philosopher wanders into the forest, and begins a debate with Thebbell about how spirits cannot possibly exist in the age of science, technology and knowledge.

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I already gave you one stop ignoring meeeeeee

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Day 2

 

I awoke to the sound of spirits yelling in his head. The next thing I heard was drilling.

 

Bulldozers. I leapt to my feet and ran out to where a group of yellow vehicles were knocking down the smaller trees and cutting away the bigger ones with heavy machinery. The spirits hissed and shook their incorporeal fists. One of them was alerted to my presence and turned around to look at me expectantly. The other spirits followed suit. I sighed. This was not the first time lumberjacks had invaded my home. They always left a terrible odour in their wake. I walked up to the first bulldozer and waved, my arms outstretched.

 

"Hey look, it's a maiden," said the driver, and turned down his window.

 

"On the contrary," I answered, "I'm a man, and I live in this forest. Please do not do this."

 

"Yeah well, we've got to answer to our boss," said the driver. "Have you heard of Wstfgl? He threatens people with INCEST, FOLK DANCING and EXPLOSIONS. We'd do anything to avoid his wrath. These trees have got to go."

 

I did not understand what interest this Wstfgl person had with my forest, but someone who could threaten incest and folk dancing on people must be extremely vicious. I felt a little sorry for the bunch, but the spirits would not relent. It seemed they were either proficient at folk dancing, or had not tried it before. After some thinking, it was true that the forest was more important than these men's fears.

 

"We stand on opposing ends, and I'm afraid there can be no reconciliation," I said with some regret. "I'll be forced to strike back if you continue your advance."

 

It seemed that so be it. The man shrugged and turned up his window again. I grabbed my bow and arrows, which I had slung on my shoulder, and fired off a volley of arrows. They were sharply ineffectual to the machines, but the spirits lent a hand. Arrows were miraculously lodged between into wheels, one of them managed to splinter a window at surprising speed, and another hit a man right on the nose, sending blood spurting out. Despite some of our differences, we were all united against intruders to our home.

 

The men retreated, promising that Wstfgl would return with yet more extraordinary circumstances in wait for me.

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And the man's right!

 

New trespassers now tread upon your sacred forest grounds... the worst kind of them all! BOY SCOUTS GOING CAMPING.

 

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

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Day 3

 

I found a scholar wandering in the forest today. It seemed he was lost.

 

"A very well-kept forest this is," said the scholar, nodding appraisingly. I very proudly told him that this was tended to by the Forest Spirit, to which he lifted an eyebrow.

 

"The Forest Spirit?" he repeated questioningly. I asked him if he had heard of him.

 

"Never heard of the fellow," he confessed. "I suppose he's not a real spirit, is he? Because that's fundamentally impossible."

 

I was shocked, but I do know that there many denizens of this world who have had the good fortune not to come into contact with spirits. He must be one of them.

 

"In fact, I come from the TriOctium Council of Philosophers," he said, stroking his goatee. "It's a council for only the brightest and most stuck-up. I'm honoured to be the vice-chairman, chosen due to my Aryan genes. My greatgrandfather's wife's sister-in-law's cousin's uncle was of the Aryan tribe, you see. Now, shall we engage in a philosophical debate? The motion: there can not be spirits living in this enlightened age of science and technology."

 

"But there are," I said. "Don't you sometimes encounter people you thought you knew, but who behave entirely differently? That's the result of spiritual possession. And when miracles or disasters happen that defy the laws of physics, they're the result of spirits too."

 

"There's no proof that the cause of these occurrences are spirits," said the philosopher sternly. "It doesn't follow through from any deductive reasoning at all. In any case, the existence of spirits is like the existence of religious beings. Philosophy hasn't been able to argue for their existence or non-existence yet. So let's move on to the next topic. If an acorn falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?"

 

"That doesn't make any sense," I frowned. It sounded like an argument that was just as inconclusive as the previous one.

 

"I'm not asking you if it makes sense. I'm asking you if it makes sound." He looked at me with a smirk on his face.

 

I shot an arrow straight at it and raced away.

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You encounter a lovely lady forest nymph who is very forward and flirtatious but then turns out to be a gorgon who wants to eat you! 

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