Baron Zamedi

"“I, too, was human once. I died a worthless death, to cowards who hid behind weapons and influence. When they saw me again, they shook; they called me a demon, raised from the dead. But I was no demon; just a boy who didn't like leaving things half finished.” - Baron Zamedi"Baron Zamedi, born as Rakisi Numbaya, is the patron deity of The Bogwood; his sphere of influence includes everything pertaining to the supernatural and the occult. Having once been human, Zamedi achieved godhood through numerous rituals and years of trial and error. Baron Zamedi now watches over The Bogwood, giving his blessing, or curses, towards those who dare to dwell in the swamps that he now governs.

Trepidation Leads to Ruin
Being a man born of African descent, Zamedi was raised in a small village just north of modern day Nairobi, Kenya. It was the early 1920's; World War I had just ended and relations between nations were still full of tension. Though Zamedi would leave Africa long before the arrival of the second world war, the air of oppression was almost tangible. There was this sense of dread lingering in the air, like even the smallest hint of danger could unavoidably ignite a powder keg.

The small village where Zamedi would grow up immediately saw the repercussions of these growing tensions, with neighboring warlords seeking to sweep the land and pick up whatever pockets of free real estate they could. There was something to be said about the paranoid of a man, especially when the threat was all too real. Power was a means to an end, a force for acquisition and security; yet, absolute power corrupts absolutely. It was a lesson that Zamedi would learn, both as a child and as an adult.

As the warlords swept like a wildfire untamed, the independent villages and tribes were drawn into a conflict that was not their own. Zamedi refused, not wanting this life for himself. He stood before them and tried to save not only himself, but his people. It was the foolish mistake of a child that saw his end. For the lords of war had no mercy to spare, and saw a potential threat even in a small child. So, they killed him; a bullet through the brain was more than enough. Unfortunately, it was an expected outcome, as the times were tumultuous and full of peril. His parents wept, cursing him for his bravery. Normally, that would have been the end of the tale, but the ending had yet to be determined.

A Lesson Still Yet Unlearned
Zamedi awoke three days later, in a cold sweat; his body jolted awake as if he had just experienced a bad dream. The events from days before had felt so real, up until the point that he had been shot; feeling his forehead, Zamedi found no wound. It was an impossibility to even think what had just transpired, but here he was. Had he truly died after all, or was it just the fever dream of a boy with an overactive imagination? What occurred next only served to make him doubt everything he had ever believed in. It was an old witch doctor, with a face carved from a sun-bleached skull. By his side was a shovel, damp with fresh soil; surely, it was already clear that his suspicions were true. By some stroke of providence or through divine miracle, Zamedi lived again. The witch doctor was quick to dispel fanciful tales, however; there was nothing divine about what had happened. Powers stirred that were steeped in darkness.

This strange doctor told his tale, one long and winding; he told it in a way that suggested that he had once belonged to the village, and was ousted for some reason or another. The exact reason was never explained, though one only had to do the math and assume that occult magic wasn't as widely accepted as one might think. Still, the tales shared opened Zamedi's eyes to a world he had never been made aware of before. It was as if they constantly teetered on the precipice between two different worlds; the mortal realm, and a realm that co-existed but always remained out of sight. The worlds were ever intertwined, close together but never touching one another. However, the witch doctor's tales were ones of caution. It was there that he began to explain why he had returned Zamedi from death. Even the old and wise could be vengeful, and the warlord, drunk with greed, had taken something precious to him. Was he to be a vessel for revenge? No more than a tool for another's cause? It was a same lesson that Zamedi would learn again and again.

The alternative was less than desirable. The old doctor could have easily undone his dark ritual, and free Zamedi's soul from his body once more. He had no desire to return to the afterlife again so soon, so Zamedi returned to the village where he had once been raised. The warlord and his band of hyenas cackled through the night, raving mad like starved lunatics. It was simple; kill and leave. Zamedi was no fool; his innocence long taken from him, he desired to make a show of it. Perhaps, it would be an example to others. When they saw him, merriment turned to dread. Surely, a boy shot dead could not come back again, could he? The warlord reached for his gun, seeing fit to send the boy out just as he did days ago. However, things would not go as they did before. His gun jammed, and the band of hyenas fell silent as their leader was beaten to death by the bare fists of a boy from the dead.

A Path Paved in Prices
Zamedi left his world behind following that night. He left the company of the witch doctor, and the village and everything he had once known. He remembered the old tales told by the doctor; how the mortal world danced so easily with a realm beyond. Curiosity turned to morbid fixation. Zamedi had died easily before, and he refused to leave this world again. For the next 40 years of his life, he delved deep into the lore of the world, hoping to unravel the mysteries that the old doctor refused to share. He would journey to the depths of the ocean, the heights of the tallest mountains and deep inside ancient ruins. Nothing truly of note came of his ventures, and Zamedi nearly drove himself mad trying to uncover these secrets. In all of his findings, there made no reference to this other world. It was if it had never existed in the first place.

At the end of his rope, Zamedi returned to the old doctor's hut, on the outskirts of his old village. The village had long since been abandoned, and the witch doctor was nowhere to be seen. "Old man!" Zamedi yelled. "You brought me back to this earth! I demand what I am owed!" The old doctor would not come. The place had been abandoned, and Zamedi was lost in his pursuit of higher knowledge. It had been decades; the witch doctor had likely passed away, much like the rest of his home village. It was no surprise. So, Zamedi took it upon himself to seek out this other world, this other power that eluded him for so long. Experimentation was his key to victory. Ritual upon ritual was conducted, often times Zamedi losing something in the process: limbs, eyes, his sanity. It was a path paved in prices, and those were prices that Zamedi was willing to pay.

At long last, after almost a century of exploration, Zamedi had found it. This world was too small for him. Zamedi laid on his death bed after succumbing to the multitude of injuries he had inflicted upon himself over his lifetime. He was desperate. It had taken him his whole life to figure out the mystery, and he was ready to embrace it. Zamedi passed on from this life in his old age, but he did not die. He was reborn into something new, a product of his studies and his rituals. Perhaps it was the old man's will, who somewhere in the other world, still had a plan for him. Perhaps some being from beyond watched him and took pity. No one could know for sure, but the old man who had entered that home, and the young man who left it were no longer the same. Zamedi had done it. He cured death itself.

He Who Would Shape the World
Zamedi had vanished following his rebirth into something new. It was unclear what had happened to him, or what he had even become. The world went on as normal, with the Great War consuming the nations and bringing about a short-lived apocalypse. The Sherwood Isles came to be, and it was time for Zamedi to make his return. He first appeared within the land of Rubidia, staking his claim over a land untouched by anyone. It was a beautiful forest and shimmering lakes which stretched sunlight for miles. Zamedi turned it dark; he turned it into a place more fitting for what he had become. The waters grew murky and the land turned old and dead. The lord of the Bogwood had arrived, with Baron Zamedi becoming the new master of the occult.

Appearance
Baron Zamedi is a man of average build and height, with dark skin and defined features. Although of African descent, Zamedi’s skin teeters more towards a pale grey, rather than the natural brown of his heritage. He is entirely bald, sporting only a goatee for hair. On a consistent basis, Zamedi’s eyes are a solid red; dark energies seem to be escaping the eyes constantly, appearing as red fumes. In the way of attire, Zamedi dresses to impress regardless of the situation. He is typically seen wearing a long, brown overcoat that reaches down to his calves; the coat is covered in gold, embroidered patterns, with chain-mail overlaying the shoulders. Zamedi is never seen without the amulet around his neck, or his scepter; both glow a fierce red, much like his eyes.

Personality
Zamedi grew up in a life of poverty and limited opportunities; he was forced to overcome many ordeals and trials to get where he is. To that end, he carries himself with a certain level of esteem that begets his current status, exuding a charismatic attitude when in public viewing. This kind of superiority complex can go so far to the point where Zamedi might consider his lessers a blight, and commits a slow purge made easy through the lawless kingdom he controls. This depends entirely on his mood, as he has been known to be a bit more “generous” when it comes to dealing with undesirables. Such things include maiming or other horrific scarring, allowing people their lives in knowing that he chose to spare them. Zamedi has deep knowledge of occult rituals and dark magics, though he always desires to learn more.

Abilities
Baron Zamedi had spent most of his mortal life discerning and discovering the mysteries of life and death; he intentionally inflicted wounds on himself, bringing himself ever closer towards the end. While it remains unknown what exactly he had managed to uncover, Zamedi had at least seemed to replicate whatever the old witch doctor had done to him as a child. Averting his fate from a complication of various illnesses, Zamedi has an uncanny ability to cheat death and has done so multiple times after his arrival in the Bogwood. He is also a master of the arcane, specializing in both known and unknown forms of magic. His power can be a force of corruption as well, as evidenced by him turning the Bogwood into what it is today; a hostile marshland with danger around every corner.

Jasper
The relationship between Jasper and Zamedi is interesting; there isn't one. The two gods seem to leave each other much alone. Jasper has gone on and said that he finds Zamedi's perversion of nature and magic to be disgusting, and he would rather have nothing to do with him. Likewise, Zamedi hates any authority that is not his own. Though Alestios and The Bogwood share the same landmass, the two gods rarely interact or even so much as look at each other.