The "real" story of SuperCiuk

It Says The Legend:

During the earliest span of the Age of Darkness,
found in the writings of only the most aged of manuscripts
lived a world born of mystic arts and ancient sorcery.
SOSARIA.
Despite Sosaria's enchanted origins, its people shunned magic.
For its very use corrupted the souls of the unwary.
But one man dared to awake the slumbering powers of alchemy,
twisting the awesome power of the Gem of Immortality to his will
and binding all of Sosaria to his corruption.
Mondain the Wizard.
His power was absolute, as the whole of the planet was gripped in his cruel embrace.
Only the appearance of a stranger saved Sosaria from impending destruction.
From whence he came no one knows, but his strength and courage were without peer.
In this stranger lay Sosaria's only hope.
Only a traveller from the stars could release this world from Mondain's vile stranglehold.
He would prove himself a savior, shattering the Gem of Immortality and defeating Mondain.
But, a deeper and more sinister evil was released with the destruction of the gem.
For Sosaria was not free of the stone's power.
The planet was still bound to the jewel's magic,
even as it lay shattered upon the floor of Mondain's castle.
For, within each shattered remnant of the jewel, dwelled a perfect likeness of Sosaria.
Thus is the world in which you are born, live, and die.
Brittania, that was once Sosaria, now exists as a thousand worlds,
each with its own peoples, history and destiny.
This Brittania is but one of many in the multiverse that is
ULTIMA ONLINE.

The First Years.
SuperCiuk was born in a very poor quarter, to the periphery of a large town famous to the entire world more for its phrenetic fog and its rhythms than for the valour of its inhabitants.
It is immediately understood that he's not a child like the others, and his parents are the first to notice this fact. They simply cannot accept his traits and they abandon him under a bridge right after his birth. They wrap him in some newspaper sheet as last and only action of tenderness in his confronts (there were some pages of "The Gazette of the Bovisa Lowland", nda), and from that moment their trace gets lost, to the point that still today anyone doesn't know their name.
His infancy is the most terrible that can be imagined for a thus small being, but you will understand that being the only one reality that he knows he's not too worried for that, at least not for the moment.
It is normal for him to feed himself with the rests of the working of the factory that encircles its dwelling (the "NoloMetan & Co", where is worked a clandestine preparation of liquids to alcoholic base not better identified, bottled in vaguely similar to flasks of wine plastic containers, nda).
Thus like it is normal that the first acquaintances whom he makes are of the rapes in constant mutation that crowd the channel along his courtyard, just where the channel of drainage of the factory about which we spoke before leaves its garbage.
Now tell me, in all good faith, what can come outside from this situation? Try to feed yourself of rats and methanole for the first years of your life, and then try to speak with someone near you, and observe his reaction... he's still alive? :-O

We have said that there's only poorness around him, and this depresses him.
He begins to hate those little jerks that occasionally pass around him, they would want to play with him but he doesn't like them, he hates their beggar behavior, their rags, their noises, he hates their parents who instead of terminate themselves have decided to put to the world other tramps, instead of contributing to the extinction of the species! He hates the world, he hates all that he can hate, and then more, still he hates more of that!
It's during these moments of depression that he starts to yell from the anger, in order then to count to the end the number of the bodies without life of those little jerks, spread without any sorrow from his terrifying breath.

He has a devastating power! He begins to slowly realize that...

And he plots in the shadow, slowly constructing his revenge against that world that has had the courage of refuse him. They, those beggars...

The Career.
He found a job, going to work in the only place in which he could find some comfort, without risking to make too many undesired damages: to the communal rubbish dump that was found to little steps from there.
In that period he began to notice that the population was not all like he had known. There was also who showed wealth, going around in limousine along with driver and bunch of banknotes that exited from the pockets, and blond sexy woman on the rear seat.
The rich ones.
God how they were beautiful!
Every time he saw one his eyes went brigth, entering the deepest phase of adoration, until his submission to they was total.

He made a costume (it was a terrible costume, falling apart and rake beyond measure, nda), and with a red cloak on his shoulders he wandered armed of its secret arm, in order to steal to the poor those little things they had (they already did not have nothing, they don't needed those ridicoul stuff).
The rich ones, they would have known how to use those things well, not those illiterate jerks that had made him to believe that the world was all like that they showed him!

And so SuperCiuk was born, the defender of the minorities (only and exclusively in numerical sense, nda), the one who stole to the poor ones in order to donate to the rich ones!

With passing of the time our SuperCiuk always acquired more emergency in his own means, and even he had been convinced of being seen like a hero from the people who were his only models of life, those people that he adored beyond the limit allowed from whichever human mind.
But reality is always quite a lot different from the sick fantasies of a crazy drinking and stinking one.
Indeed do you believe that those rich ones, to which clearly did not lack nothing, had really need of those stuff that SuperCiuk with so much ardor and passion donated them? For they he was only one jester to have fun with, a toy to show to the friends, a dummy to set in action commando.

Poor SuperCiuk, so angry and so ingenuous...

Unavoidablly the fun, after some time, became annoyance.
The sinking nauseous smell that encircled his person, joined to the growing disappearances of people of the smaller ranks (when they were a few tens it could be keep the eyes closed, but by now the situation had become indefensible even for the authorities, that it was all to say, nda) had made that SuperCiuk ended in top of the list of the wanted criminals from all around the world.
And he, who was not equipped with a superior intelligence, truly was captured in a very little time.

The career of SuperCiuk, so fastly gone up to the top of the reports, by now was definitively ended.

The Exile.
It could not sure be thought about close him in a penitentiary, it would have been like condemning to death all the other inmates (and the capital punishment had been for a long time replaced from the perennial ibernation, nda).
There was no other solution: he went frozen.

All it was ready.
As soon as a new ultratechnological model of Super Frosting Immediate Garbage Annihilator (TM) (the acronym of that machine in italian language, that is my language, sounds like the slang word for "bad luck", nda), not the mind of the greatest strategist of the world could have thought about a better combination of events.
When they made him enter the emplacement, SuperCiuk by now was so demoralized that he would have accepted whichever thing without saying a word (fortunately!, nda).

The hand of the operator was put down on the starter push-button. * CLICK *

The freezing substance began to enter in circle, and all it seemed to work for the best.
But it is known, to Taiwan they do not have a great acquaintance of the genetic mutations caused from the factors that we to this point of the history know thus well. And thus when the liquid entered in contact with the blood of SuperCiuk, it provoked a reaction of immense and unthinkable proportions that the entire room (fortunately isolated from the rest of the building) was come wrapped from a flashing light for several minutes, and only after several hours it was possible to have admittance to the premises again.
But to that point there was no more tracks of SuperCiuk.
Nobody in that world knew nothing of him no more.

The Rebirth.
SuperCiuk opened his eyes again, and there was no need of being a genius for discover that something was changed, that one was not the world that he knew.
Evidently a space-temporal reaction had been burst forth, that had projected him in another time, in another world, another history.
But also other things were changed.

He recognized the smells.

This thing alone appeared like a miracle. He began to phrenetically smell himself, there was no more trace of those stinking smell that it had accompanied him since the first days of its life.
The freezing process had been only interrupted after to have vanquished decades of accumulated trash in toxins.

He look around, he was happy.

It understood that he had a new choice. It had just to be this way, he had to repeat the phases of the growth, but now without that anger that he had since he was a child.
He had the confirmation of that when he walked over a little rabbit, a likeable inhabitant of that new world. He tried to move away but he couldn't, he was completely tired out.
His muscles were disappeared, like if never they had not existed, but in compensation that agglomerate of fat person whom it had always prevented him to look at his shoes was disappeared too.
Now he could finally look at that!

The New World.
That one was decidedly a strange world in which he had been so suddenly find himself. It was similar to its earth, nevertheless so different.
Until he remained in town, the things were all almost normal, but as soon as he put his foot outside in the forests, it was obvious that the fauna was quite a lot different. The animals were enough familiar, from the more domestic to those more aggressive, but there were even abominable beings, monsters that he thought they only existed in the fantasies of the people, and that instead they were real, and above all very dangerous.
People avoided them, and only the most valliant ones accepted the risk to to go in those forests searching for reputation, glory and riches.

Now, as you can imagine, his desire to make up for to the evils of his last life was so fort to let him forget this danger.
He was determined he had to explore that world, to directly make experience on his skin, also knowing that it would have been just his skin to suffer the worst consequences.

Thus he collected his little things and was put in way.

The Encounter.
Time passes, in his wandering without goal, to the search of the acquaintance.
The first thing he learned was that the humans were not all joining in the fight against the evil. Inexplicably, someone of they had been attracted from the forces of the darknesses, someone fought his own similar ones, and his sense of survival had made him wisely develop the art of the escape.
It was during one of these escapes that, in the attempt to seed its attacking one, he found himself at the entrance of a dark and tenebrous cavern.

He waited for a moment, humanly terrorized from that situation.
He knew that those places were the preferred shelter of dragons, as he knew that probably no normal person would have penetrated himself in their lair... but the danger was imminent, a lot more real of the fears born from popular legends, handed on of father in son, and always bigger at every passage.
Yes, probably what in the fantasies of the people it appeared like a gigantic being in a position to spit fire and flames, then in reality it would have been revealed like an innocuous wolfling one in searching for its loneliness...

He entered that place, and his life from that moment wasn't the same no more.

He knew immediately how much he was wrong. Although the darkness, he succeeded to perfectly distinguish the rests of the crazy ones that had dared to enter in that place before him. But by now it was late in order to return behind.

Now there's no need that I tell you that dragons are much susceptible beings, that they don't like someone who do not respect their privacy.
You cannot think to enter their house saying "Knock, knock, can I enter?" or "Good Day Mr. Dragon, how are you?". Open the door and you will be sure to become ash in no more than a few seconds.
The only moment in which it can be thought to speak some words with them is right after a good rich and appetizing lunch, but if you think that occasions like these are indeed much rare you will understand how much SuperCiuk has been lucky.
In fact he entered the room just in one of those rare moments, just when the dragon was ready to ignite his clay pipe (the logical conclusion of every appetizing lunch, nda).

The dragon noticed immediately that whom he was looking at was not a normal human, there was something in his eyes who inspired good purposes, and that was not all. That man had some potential, something that turned his curiosity on, as it was never happened with the other humans.

He had to know him better.

The Education.
SuperCiuk learned from him more than he could never have imagined.
That dragon was not a simple dragon, he was the oldest representative of its race, the only living being that could say to have lived in the times of Mondain.
He told to SuperCiuk all the history of his life, and if you are able to make some small calculations you will understand how many years they have passed together in that dark but pleasant dwelling.

With passing of the time, when he was truly sure of the intentions of SuperCiuk, the dragon opened an old chest, and he took a book apparently older than the dragon himself: The Ancient Tome.

If at that point SuperCiuk still had some doubts, these definitively disappeared to the reading of the evil actions of Mondain, and his defeat by the hands of the Traveller From The Stars.

He did not have the presunction to be like the Avatar, but he felt that there was a tie, there was an explanation to all, that all the things have always a sense and that every action has repercussions on the existences of everyone else.
He knew that like in every tale, even in this one it had to fight the eternal fight of the Good against the Evil.
He had been tempted from the Evil, he had become a wicked servant of that, but now he had finally opened his eyes, and he was ready to conquest his space of glory in that world that by now he felt like his own world.

The Salutations.
Do you remember when I told you that the dragon had been noticed of some potential hiding in SuperCiuk? I imagine you will have understood that he referred to his old power, that it was not completely disappeared but that now, thanks to the instructions received, he was finally in a position to handle.
That one had been the last instruction. Now it was the moment of the salutations.

They celebrated for the last time their encounter and their friendship, they drank the best beer that the dragon conserved for the special events (that one was the only bad habit that he had been carried behind from his old life, nda), they were embraced for longest minutes (in the limits of the possibilities as after all they were a dragon and a human, nda), and they were greeted. SuperCiuk had tears in his eyes...

- Don't cry SuperCiuk, I too am much becoming attached to you, and I'll bring you always in my heart. Our paths will be still intercrossed, do not fear. But remember these words, and bring them always with you: for how much fort, how much valliant, how much just one, you are just a small creature in a much immense world! -

- Thanks to the Sky - SuperCiuk said laughing, and gave him the tobacco pouch.

MR

AUTHOR'S NOTE.
It's from a long time that I thought to write this story, but more of every other thing I have always dreamed of end it with that phrase: -)
The decision of writing it came to me after the last argument on the fact that Ultima Online is or not a roleplaying game. The answer does not exist, the answer is within of you. If you want to play a role you can do it, it's enough that you remove your every day cloth and wear those of yours alter ego, and you behave yourself as he would behave himself.

If you have succeeded in to read until here it means that the time that I have employed in order to write this story has not been wasted, and of this I thank you from the bottom of my heart: -)

SuperCiuk is born, he lives, and he dies on Europa, only one world of the many in the multiuniverse of ULTIMA ONLINE.
^______________________^

CopyRights: The name "SuperCiuk" is a property of Max Bunker, the text of the legend and the name "Ultima Online" are property of Origin System Inc., the final dialogue between SuperCiuk and the dragon is drawn from "The Hobbit" of JRR Tolkien. All of the rest is a fruit of my imagination, and for this at disposition of anyone who wants it; -)

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This page has been last updated on the 31st of May, 2000