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Monday, December 14, 2020
16. Krakoa (Black Delegation) - Racial Draft Season 2
Krakoa’s new “blackstory” -- as per Randy Smith -- is as follows:
A few short millennia after the world’s one land became many, a man dwelled in a place that would eventually be called Africa.
To his people, he was only Kwame, yet his status was far more. They knew some born with power were dangerous and frightening, but Kwame connected with earth, coaxed forth its bounty. He was only ever a divine gift. For a time.
No one knew what happened, what the gods desired, that made Kwame change. All they knew, the earth quaked in anger; if there was any saving to be done, Kwame would do it. Not by force of will or entreating the gods. After much giving, it seemed the gods now demanded a return.
On a favorable day, Kwame looked back to his people, then over the edge of the coastal cliff where he stood. Without fear, he leaned forth, and fell.
Plunging into the harsh ocean depths, any other could expect death at any moment. Yet, what Kwame thought was his end was just a new start. Rather than bearing him down to death, the waters carried him aloft for weeks, nourished him with salt and sediment. No need to eat, sleep or even breathe.
By the time he landed on an island, located where people would eventually call the Pacific Ocean, his whole being changed. His body was heavy with earth that accumulated from the ocean, but his mind was light. So much nature took its place in his mind, his past was but a spark of memory, a waking dream in a mind that now so desperately craved slumber.
Yet when he woke, it may as well have been for the first time. He peered out, surrounded by unfamiliar faces with unfamiliar skin. His former self would have panicked that they seemed so small before him or that he could not move, but this new self wondered. This word they chanted, Krakatau, Krakatau!
Were they speaking to…him? It had a nice ring to it, that word; perhaps he could try it out himself. The earthen mountainside now comprising his face creaked, cracked, split open, and with a gravelly growl, he attempted it, “Kra…Krakoa?”
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