Fall Of The Watchajambe

Fall Of The Watchajambe

Legends tell the tale of a creature. A creature whose presence convinced the Lenape nation that the Great Spirit was punishing them. A creature that stole men's forms and made them do evil things.

Decades passed as the creature terrorized what would one day be known as the Pine Barrens, killing and stealing the souls of all who went to fight it. No matter what they did or what magic they carried, the creature slayed them all.

One day, after several winters of living in fear, a young brave named Netopalis said that he would slay the creature. Several prayers were said to the Great Spirit for protection and the medicine man gave Netopalis powerful magic to aid him. Taking his bow, spear, and shield, Netopalis went to battle the creature.
For many moons Netopalis searched for the creature, but only found dead and abandoned villages. On the verge of giving up hoe, he heard of a cave that the creature was said to live in. Netopalis found the cave and, preparing the magic the medicine man had given him, tarting a small fire juast inside the cave, and lighting a torch, he went inside.

The stench of the dead nearly overwhelmed the young brave, but he continued on. Stepping over the corpses of those that had gone before him. A low growling could be heard.

Creeping through the cave, his spear held before him, Netopalis turned the corner and saw a huddled figure before him. He moved silently forward, but the voice as the figure spoke stopped him in his tracks.

It was his father's voice.

“You abandoned us son. You left when we needed you the most. The creature you hunt came to the village, appearing as an old man. We took him in, and it slaughtered us.”

“Forgive me father!” Netopalis cried. “I did not know!”

“It is too late sun.” his father continued. “The village has been slaughtered, our people are dead. You are all that remains, and soon you will be gone.”

Netopalis moved forward a bit and stopped. He had heard his father's words and finaly realized what he had said.

That he was the last of his people.

“Face me creature!” Netopalis yelled, holding his spear before him. “face me and pay the price for the lives you have destroyed!”

the figure turned and Netopalis saw his father's face, eyes glowing red. He smiled, his teeth replaced by razor sharp fangs.

Netopalis stumbled backwards in fight. “Stop” he said as he thrust his spear forward, but the creature advanced, his father's laugh echoing through the cave.

Netopalis closed his eyes and drove his spear forward, feeling it enter the creatures flesh. He looked and saw what had to be blood, glowing and green, flowing from the wound.

The creature roared, anger and hate appearing on his father's face as it pulled itself down the spear shaft. The head burst through it's back, spraying the walls with blood as it stood inches from Netopalis, staring at him. Fangs bared in an evil grin.

“you think you have killed me?” it asked in his father's voice. “no weapon made by mortal hands can kill me! You, on the other hand, will soon join your people in the next world!”

The creature swung it's claw tipped hand, but Netopalis ducked. Dropping his spear, he ran. Having dropped his torch when the creature turned towards him, Netopalis through the dark tunnels, stumbling over bones and corpses, praying to the Great Spirit that the creature would stop for something to eat.

He turned a corner and could see the entrance, and the small fire he had started was still going. He could also hear the creature close behind him. He ran faster, hoping he could make it, when he felt the creatures claws rake across his back.

Netopalis screamed in pain as he flew forward, landing near the fire. He knew it was a glancing blow, be cause if it hadn't been, he would have been dead. He also knew that it was too late. The creature drew nearer as he lay on the ground.

Netopalis knew he would not defeat the creature and live, so he did what he had to do. Getting to his feet, he lept towards the fire and pulled a burning stick from it. The creature knocked him down and lunged, but Netopalis was ready. He kicked the creature away from him and rolled towards a small pile of powered that the medicine man had given him. And just as he had been shown, he placed the flaming stick on the pile.

Sparks flew as the fire traveled down a path he had made, towards wicks which would take the fire to other piles. He smiled as the creature sank it's claws into him, felt them tearing his flesh, felt it's fangs buried in his arm as the creature began eating him. He had done it. He may die, but the creature would die with him.

The fire reached the small piles of powder and ignited, creating an explosion that destroyed the cave entrance, buring both Netopalis and the creature under tons of stone. Tapping them inside for all eternity.

The Lenape people did not forget Netopalis' sacrifice and spread his tale through out their nation. Nor did they forget the creature, whose evil became the stuff of legend. So terrified were they that they spoke it's name only in whispers, fearful that it would return. Several villages forbade people to even speak it's name.

It's name means Bringer Of Death.

The Watchajambe.