Drederick Moroses
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Africa, Living
As he grew up, he was a man of little faith. The people of his tribe socially cast him out of their groups for not tributing the gods as was customary, but Ombokowoe was a tough man to break, too tough for the tribesmen, indeed.
Ombokowoe was not the greatest hunter of his tribe, for he had not the strength or speed for it. The greatest hunters could run for hours and throw there spears with the strength of a greater spirit. The greatest hunters did not, however, have the patience to lie and wait for the perfect pray and the perfect kill. Ombokowoe, on the other hand, did. They said he could lie for hours, days, even weeks, for that, he was admired, both by his mother, brothers, sisters, tribesmen, and enemies. Because of his patience, actually, he saved the lives of several women and children, as he had the patience to lie and wait for their enemies when wind was caught of someone's demise.
He never wedded, nor did he have children, for that was the role of those who did not adhere to the gods.
In the end, however, when he was tenthousandeighthundredfiftynine nights old, he almost met a God, for the Christians came, and with them, came Death.
Africa, Dead
At the tip of a spear, many people agree. They do not really care about what they agree to, they just do. It is human nature; it is nature. Ombokowoe, of course, did not. Rather, at the tip of a spear, he asked questions: Why? For Whom? What and Why should I agree? Why, God Almighty, of course, said the Dead. For He is the path to righteousness. Why do you threaten for belief by dedath, he asked next. For that is the only way, with mongrels such as you, the Dead replied.
They continued like this for many hours, even as his brothers and sisters were slaughtered next to him for saying aye but not meaning it. When the sun threatened, the Dead had to leave, but only to return to the scene of the slaughter the night after. Ombokowoe was one of few to survive, and therefore one of few to say farewell to bodies of family and friends.
When the Dead returned the night after, Ombokowoe greeted them for more philosophical discussions, however, only one of their retinue wished to speak to him: the woman with the spear, Amelie Blanc. She was the eldest amongst them, she told him, and she told him of them aswell. Why, he asked once more, and she simply answered: Because you shall be given a choice.
That same night, he was given the choice, and that same night, he died, only to rise as one of the Damned.
He was told of many things, and taught many things as he, his sire and her retinue travelled the continent. As the retinue spread The Faith through the spear, Ombokowoe began to Believe. It came as natural to him, perhaps only because he never met Kindred of other beliefs during the time.
They travelled for many, many years, and it was tough. Only by strong conviction and blood did they manage to survive, for the plains of Africa is a deadly place, even while branding sun-proof tents. Other Kindred would not have managed, most likely, but being the Childer of Icarius, this retinue were not like other Kindred--they were sent by God, and they did what they had to to carry out their mission.
Ombokowoe travelled Africa for many years as Nomadic Missionaries, but the retinue finally settled down in what came to be a city, in the western parts of Africa. They stayed there for man years, and Ombokowoe enjoyed staying in one place, and getting to meet other Kindred as they began coming to the city. Blanc implemented the Church into the city by building a Chapel, and self-annointing herself to Bishop. In the same way, Ombokowoe was made Priest in later years, as the Lancea Sanctum had been well established into the city, and other Kindred came in, in a more rapid pace.
During his stay in the city, Ombokowoe went through the Creation Rite twice. Both of the Childer started out just fine and seemed to be just what he had been looking for, but both of them ended up miserable failures, aswell. They were both put to the stake by Ombokowoe's own hand. A time of torpor would be better than having innocent blood on their hands, he thought, not realising what he had done himself for so many years. In his mind, he had not been doing wrong by killing the non-believers, at least not yet. The non-believers were doing wrong by not believing, and refusing to find the path to the Bible and to God.
The Westminster Creed came to Monachal Creed's city, and they performed their own rites. His sire, of course, was outraged at first, but listened--but only for a while. The Westminster started to become aggressive, and soon Kindred blood was shed, as the Childer of Icarius lost their patience with the rudeness of their guests. First the neonates who refused were put to blades, then the ancillae, then the elders. Amelie Blanc was the last one to be put to the blade and fire, and it was only because of her wits that she managed to find a way out for her most beloved childe. Ombokowoe fled, north, to the harbor cities. With money stolen from kine, he fled from the continent, north, west, on a journey that would prove to be his greatest test for survival.
Atlanta, Beginning
On the ship that took him over waters, he only survived thanks to the Blessed Miracles that is Theban Sorcery. So many objects that he had with him on to the boat were imbibed, and without them, suspicions that would lead to Final Death would arise among the kine. He managed to perfect the English language on the boat, and steal a name that would be more befitting him when he arrived to America. The name was taken from the only man that was killed--by him, anyway--on the boat; it was an accident, but for the first time in many, many years, the Beast took over while feeding, and so the body was left drained, and therefore had to be cast into the ocean. The man had been a travelling merchant, and he sold spices and weeds in America; his name was Drederick Moroses.
Travelling through America, bound North, he ended up in Atlanta, in 1905. He wasn't taken in with open arms, at all; rather, the racistic Atlanta--both Kindred and Kine--shunned him to the outskirts of the city, but he was still allowed to stay.
It was a tough start for him in Atlanta--in 1907, the Atlanta Race Riots hit the city, and Drederick was caught right in the fucking middle of it. His Haven was burnt, his second Haven was burnt, and he was thrashed and made to kill white men. Were it not that he met Anthony Anderson, Drederick would most likely be dead. Anthony took him in, gave him protection when he needed it. Once, twice, always. Unlike Anthony, however, the Bishop DuPont was not nearly as welcoming. Drederick called himself a Priest, even though he was not truly Annointed—probably. DuPont, however, stripped him of all titles, status, and lashed him, several times. After this, he kept a low profile until the troubling times of 1911, when DuPont royally screwed up. Drederick was pushed by Anthony to make him apologise, publically, for his way of acting towards the Crone who had “left the city”. After a while, DuPont did apologise, but it was a team effort, but Drederick certainly did his part.
Seeing as Drederick had managed to become a wealthy man, he moved to the Domain of Vinings. In Vinings, he took control of the Ebenezer Baptist Church, and claimed it as his own. He made peace with the mortals in the church, and became something of a guardian of it. He made a vow to keep the Church as his for as long as he remained in Atlanta.
Atlanta, Middle
DuPont was wrong. Very wrong. Drederick could not really say how he was wrong, in a general sense—surely, Drederick deserved some of the lashings and beatings, but not all of them. DuPont was not fit to be Bishop, and Drederick knew that DuPont would not survive if he kept his unruly ways up. Misinterpreting the Testaments is one thing, and creating war with the Crones another, but not letting fledgelings come to the Holy Church of Longinus is a whole other. He would have to outlive DuPont, somehow, to make sure that Atlanta’s Lancea Sanctum can carry out its job as it should be. Later on, when Prince Winchester went missing, and DuPont pushed for Archbishop, Drederick took an official stand to be on Anthony’s side, who won. There was much gnashing of teeth, later, when Drederick was nearly beaten to torpor. Shortly after this, Drederick succumbed to voluntary torpor, in the hopes to outlive DuPont, only to make things easier for himself.
Atlanta, End, Present