
An idea I've been toying with for a while - a young wild Sergal character.
He wouldn't be representative of me at all, just a backstoried character that I could have some fun with.
I've pieced together a good bit of backstory for his early life, but really nothing beyond his return to civilization aside from a couple outlined "adventures" which probably won't ever be written.
The rough draft is that he is something of a jungle child; the result of a mixed parentage who spent many of his formative years alone in the woods. He's timid and defensive toward those he doesn't know, and while in unfamiliar situations, but doughty and sure-handed when backed into a corner, or otherwise forced to fight or stand up for himself.
Despite an eagerness for learning and an abundance of natural curiosity, he's socially rather stunted due to spending a large part of his childhood alone and in terrible survival situations. Nevertheless, he is very affectionate toward those he comes to trust and can even be rather goofy and childish, although due to his social unfamiliarity, he's initially fairly easy to take advantage of.
His father was a Northern Sergal, and his mother a Southern. They were part of a small village of mixed-race hunter-gatherers from all the different clans, north and south, all of whom had grown tired of the constant interracial fighting and the stigma around mixed-race couples. They wanted peace and cooperation more than tribal politics and battle-glory.
Leaving the cities, they choose to live apart in a more "traditional" woodland style - going back to the way their people lived before the advent of higher technology.
This little guy (who currently has no name) was born to one of the mixed-race couples and immediately began to be trained in woodcraft. But while still very young, he was caught being "inappropriate" with another male Sergal his age, which very much angered his father who was obsessed with lineage and the growth of the colony through an abundance of progeny (he was by no means a neglectful or abusive father, but he expected a great deal from his firstborn son, and the chance that his only child might be homosexual and incapable/unwilling to provide strong grandchildren for the tribe was a blow to him).
Rather than deal with the issue in the heat of the moment (so to speak), he sends his son away to spend the night in the woods while they discuss what's to be done.
That very night, the village is overrun by a group of Northern Sergals who violently disapprove of any mixing between the Northern and Southern races, and they slaughter the inhabitants right down to the last hybrid infant.
This little guy sees only the initial attack when the scouts rush past the impromptu nest he built of scattered leaves and branches. Not daring to move from this concealment until he knows what's happening, he remains unseen while the village is razed.
He lays there in growing fear while listening to the clamor of the attack: yells of surprise and fear, the clanging of weapons, screams of anguish as well as battle-fury. The acrid smell of smoke as huts and fields burn, the tramp of feet through the woods nearby as the victors search for survivors or stragglers, and distantly throughout the night, the occasional cry or cruel laughter as they make sport of the captives.
Sometime in the late morning, the raiding party march away, but it's not until the evening of the day after that the starving child sneaks out from his hiding place to look out to where his home once lay.
Fires are still smoldering in the wreck where houses lay, the smoke almost hiding the still ripe scent of blood coming from the uncovered bodies - some laying where they were cut down, others in sadistic display - perhaps as warnings, or just for the amusement of the victors.
So he flees back into the woods where he'll live for the rest of his childhood. Initially surviving on a mix of knowledge learned from his tribemates before the raid, and on what he can find growing or laying within reach - berries, roots and eggs.
With time, he becomes an accomplished gatherer, trapper and solitary hunter (when he can safely risk a spear throw). He learns to adapt from his mistakes, how to make the most out of little and how to endure through adversity.
He fearfully returns to his old village occasionally to search for useful items, but within days of the attack, other Sergals following the smoke trail come to pick the ruins.
Assuming these others would kill him just as the raiders would, he keeps himself hidden.
It's not until much later that he begins to consider rejoining with his own kind. Travel past the place where his old village use to stand increases as the nearby road widens and becomes more heavily used. Message runners, merchants and other travelers trekking between larger settlements often make use of the shallow, grass-filled depressions where homes once were to shelter in at night.
Eavesdropping from the trees, our little wild Sergal learns a great deal from the idle conversations of travelers. He is able to hear the unfamiliar, but pleasant, sound of light-hearted banter between friendly people. Glad voices talking about warm food, comfortable homes and the loved ones they have waiting for them. It stirs nostalgic, half-suppressed, half-forgotten memories of his early childhood and a longing for something he doesn't understand yet. A forgotten desire for contact and companionship. To do something more than just survive one day to another.
Finally, he decides to leave. He hides his little camp, takes his spear and some other oddments wrapped in a parcel, and goes to the city.
---
While not intentional, I can see a lot of influence from Kipling's "The Jungle Book", as well as Milius' "Conan the Barbarian" in his backstory. I didn't mean for it, but I guess there are worse comparisons.
As it is, I don't think anything more than this will ever be written, but it's nice to see at least a little bit come from this. I come up with all kinds of ideas for stories and pictures and comics that never go farther than my own head, so anything at all I can put down in a more permanent format is quite worth the effort.
I have another couple sketches of this guy on loose leaf, but non are this finished (so to speak). I'm hoping that now that I have a printer/scanner again I'll be motivated to be a bit more productive in the drawing department.
In any case, let me know what you guys think of this little guy. He's a sweetheart once you can get through to him. He just has a lot of pain and fear that needs to be dispelled.
Species © the very talented
He wouldn't be representative of me at all, just a backstoried character that I could have some fun with.
I've pieced together a good bit of backstory for his early life, but really nothing beyond his return to civilization aside from a couple outlined "adventures" which probably won't ever be written.
The rough draft is that he is something of a jungle child; the result of a mixed parentage who spent many of his formative years alone in the woods. He's timid and defensive toward those he doesn't know, and while in unfamiliar situations, but doughty and sure-handed when backed into a corner, or otherwise forced to fight or stand up for himself.
Despite an eagerness for learning and an abundance of natural curiosity, he's socially rather stunted due to spending a large part of his childhood alone and in terrible survival situations. Nevertheless, he is very affectionate toward those he comes to trust and can even be rather goofy and childish, although due to his social unfamiliarity, he's initially fairly easy to take advantage of.
His father was a Northern Sergal, and his mother a Southern. They were part of a small village of mixed-race hunter-gatherers from all the different clans, north and south, all of whom had grown tired of the constant interracial fighting and the stigma around mixed-race couples. They wanted peace and cooperation more than tribal politics and battle-glory.
Leaving the cities, they choose to live apart in a more "traditional" woodland style - going back to the way their people lived before the advent of higher technology.
This little guy (who currently has no name) was born to one of the mixed-race couples and immediately began to be trained in woodcraft. But while still very young, he was caught being "inappropriate" with another male Sergal his age, which very much angered his father who was obsessed with lineage and the growth of the colony through an abundance of progeny (he was by no means a neglectful or abusive father, but he expected a great deal from his firstborn son, and the chance that his only child might be homosexual and incapable/unwilling to provide strong grandchildren for the tribe was a blow to him).
Rather than deal with the issue in the heat of the moment (so to speak), he sends his son away to spend the night in the woods while they discuss what's to be done.
That very night, the village is overrun by a group of Northern Sergals who violently disapprove of any mixing between the Northern and Southern races, and they slaughter the inhabitants right down to the last hybrid infant.
This little guy sees only the initial attack when the scouts rush past the impromptu nest he built of scattered leaves and branches. Not daring to move from this concealment until he knows what's happening, he remains unseen while the village is razed.
He lays there in growing fear while listening to the clamor of the attack: yells of surprise and fear, the clanging of weapons, screams of anguish as well as battle-fury. The acrid smell of smoke as huts and fields burn, the tramp of feet through the woods nearby as the victors search for survivors or stragglers, and distantly throughout the night, the occasional cry or cruel laughter as they make sport of the captives.
Sometime in the late morning, the raiding party march away, but it's not until the evening of the day after that the starving child sneaks out from his hiding place to look out to where his home once lay.
Fires are still smoldering in the wreck where houses lay, the smoke almost hiding the still ripe scent of blood coming from the uncovered bodies - some laying where they were cut down, others in sadistic display - perhaps as warnings, or just for the amusement of the victors.
So he flees back into the woods where he'll live for the rest of his childhood. Initially surviving on a mix of knowledge learned from his tribemates before the raid, and on what he can find growing or laying within reach - berries, roots and eggs.
With time, he becomes an accomplished gatherer, trapper and solitary hunter (when he can safely risk a spear throw). He learns to adapt from his mistakes, how to make the most out of little and how to endure through adversity.
He fearfully returns to his old village occasionally to search for useful items, but within days of the attack, other Sergals following the smoke trail come to pick the ruins.
Assuming these others would kill him just as the raiders would, he keeps himself hidden.
It's not until much later that he begins to consider rejoining with his own kind. Travel past the place where his old village use to stand increases as the nearby road widens and becomes more heavily used. Message runners, merchants and other travelers trekking between larger settlements often make use of the shallow, grass-filled depressions where homes once were to shelter in at night.
Eavesdropping from the trees, our little wild Sergal learns a great deal from the idle conversations of travelers. He is able to hear the unfamiliar, but pleasant, sound of light-hearted banter between friendly people. Glad voices talking about warm food, comfortable homes and the loved ones they have waiting for them. It stirs nostalgic, half-suppressed, half-forgotten memories of his early childhood and a longing for something he doesn't understand yet. A forgotten desire for contact and companionship. To do something more than just survive one day to another.
Finally, he decides to leave. He hides his little camp, takes his spear and some other oddments wrapped in a parcel, and goes to the city.
---
While not intentional, I can see a lot of influence from Kipling's "The Jungle Book", as well as Milius' "Conan the Barbarian" in his backstory. I didn't mean for it, but I guess there are worse comparisons.
As it is, I don't think anything more than this will ever be written, but it's nice to see at least a little bit come from this. I come up with all kinds of ideas for stories and pictures and comics that never go farther than my own head, so anything at all I can put down in a more permanent format is quite worth the effort.
I have another couple sketches of this guy on loose leaf, but non are this finished (so to speak). I'm hoping that now that I have a printer/scanner again I'll be motivated to be a bit more productive in the drawing department.
In any case, let me know what you guys think of this little guy. He's a sweetheart once you can get through to him. He just has a lot of pain and fear that needs to be dispelled.
Species © the very talented

Category Artwork (Traditional) / Doodle
Species Sergal
Size 1006 x 1200px
File Size 1.08 MB
Comments