Pakhom

Pater Umbra

Description:
Bio:

Now

Adopted by mysterious circumstances into a coptic sect. Lots of pharonic overlays involved.
Big burly beard and a lot of habits from monastic/seminary life

Has followed his spirit advisor, Busara’s advice and has moved to Vancouver and has started to work in the shadows

Ancient History

The Coptic name given at the time of his rescue.

As harsh as the deserts of Egypt can be, nothing can bite deeper than the despair of child held to knife by his own family. A sudden need to kill in the face of certain death, to act as the hand of vengeance even as the mind falls into darkness.

There are many caves in the desert, ancient landscapes hidden away from the waking world away from the prying eyes of technology and their slaves. Here we see members of the Coptic Brotherhood, an ancient order of Monastic peoples bent to the pursuit of purity, spirituality, and discipline. Going about their daily lives during their yearly pilgrimage to the 7 brothers, deep in the deserts of their forefathers unaware of the atrocities being conducted in one of their holy sites.

A vehicle, a jeep by the looks of it, bent and twisted on the rocky outcroppings guarding the steps to the shrine. The brothers looked on with some level of concern to the safety of the occupancy, and no small measure of bewilderment as to the presence of the machine.

Approaching the wreck, the three noticed movement near and around the accident, unsure of the shadows lurking so low to the ground, they approached with a level of caution as beasts lurked these deserts, all shapes, sizes, and intent. The torches sputtered in protest at the tugging winds, throwing even more shadow where light should be, as the breeze wafted about the travelers wiping their robes askew, they detected the distinct sent of blood. That tangy sting of copper, wet and new, assailing the senses, forcing them to blink and cover their faces for fear of retching.

Heads turn tentatively to the jeep, only to find the mysterious movement vanished and the wind dyeing to a harsh mutter amongst the stones. Approaching now, with slightly more confidence, the door was left ajar, or should be said the body of murdered man left to hang out the side of the vehicle as his precious life’s blood drained from this neck.

The grisly seen would be enough for even the most battle hardened, as both the manner in which the body was displayed, and the brutality of the wound, where both savage and drip of madness. A sharp cry, from the top of the stair grants them a small mercy as their attention is diverted away.

As the troop mounted the landing entrance to the shallow cave which housed the shrine, the brothers where given witness to the ravings of madman wielding a shattered piece of glass as blade, pressing the edge to small child. The moments stretched to infinity as the scene played out.. One moment the child sat whimpering as the ravings continued, the next torches guttered and burst, as the child was then upon the man like a savage beast.. Teeth bare and growls boiled in his throat… the shadows flickered and images of a great hawked headed man, brief but did give one pause as to its reality. The next moment, the man was gasping as blood speed forth from his neck like a fountain.. the boy collapsed on the cave floor.

Pakhom

Broken People Denis Denis