Abigail Norml
The sorted confessions of Abigail Norml
I grew up on the road. We were always moving, never rooted. I used to hate people. People are cruel, judgmental, shallow souls that fear the unknown and the unexplainable. I hated them for their hatred of me, their jeers, their scorn, their cruelty. Strangely, no matter how mean or terrible or awful they were, my mother would never hate them. She would tell me that fear and hatred are weakness and that all these faceless people were just being weak, and when someone is weak, they find themselves ruled by others. She would remind me that we were not governed by anyone but ourselves and therefore one day we may rule the weak and inept.
I never believed her but over the years my hatred turned to pity and I began to look upon the unwashed masses differently. They are like lost ignorant children, like sheep upon a field of grass, mewling cattle that required someone to keep them safe. So it happened that when I was in my sprouting years, I had finally rooted for a time in a small village in a pleasant valley with good weather and excellent food. I was not welcome there, just like every other village, town, or city I had the displeasure of being in but I didn’t care. I ignored them, did what I wanted, and after a short time I was left alone, only treated to stares and barely veiled whispers. It was one fateful evening when I was headed into town that there was a great raid. Terrible roaring men rolled through the village with a wave of destruction and death. I had to make a choice.
I chose to help. I didn’t do it for the whispering cattle that hated me; I did it because I knew I could, and because I did not like these vile beasts destroying something I had grown to like. I did not stand alone against them but I was unmatched in the swift justice I exacted upon those fiends. It was the first time I had taken a life and it would not be the last. The events of that night showed the mewling sheep of the village that I was not weak and that while I should be feared, I should also be respected. Time passed and with it the stories of that night became twisted into grand acts of heroism and valor and I became revered, looked up to, worshiped by some. My differences became signs that I was chosen by the gods or sent from the creators to keep them safe and so it was that my nickname, the Ferryman, came to being.
The Ferryman, such a strange and ominous name, strange not because I am a woman but because it is a tribute to Charon, the ferryman who steers the boat from the shore where Thanatos delivers souls to the underworld. I was Death's ferryman, sending their imagined enemies to the underworld where they could do no harm. The villager’s worship of me became fierce, setting me upon a pedestal that I could not begin to aspire to be and I once again became recluse, living on the outskirts of town. I spent my time trying to find ways to be what they built me up to be. I researched, I experimented, I dabbled in unspeakable arts and I learned so many things. I learned the ways of the Numenara, harnessed its powers and used its unexplainable magic to enhance myself, to better myself, to become what they made me believe I should be.
My studies and now extensive knowledge of the inner workings of a human body allowed me to also become a healer and again my visage was changed by those who worshiped me. I became; not the Ferryman, but Rhamiel, the angel of empathy and understanding. Still just mewling cattle, they did not understand and I had no desire to explain it to them. I was gravely misnamed. However, after a time, I realized my actions were what caused them to anoint me with that name. Regardless of my hatred or the hardness of my heart, my actions spoke so much louder with each person I healed, or with each bit of wisdom I imparted upon them. I could not take the shame of their high praise of me so I finally left, striking back out into the world and reuniting with the wanderer I was in childhood and still am at heart. I am still trying to find my ultimate purpose in life and wondering if I can ever learn to love.
I am The Ferryman. I am Rhamiel. I am Abigail Norml.
My Goal: Find someone or something I care about
My Belief: is that all people are stupid cattle
My Instinct: is to help the stupid cattle