Golem

A golem in a world with an afterlife. The artificial clay man who has to struggle with the lack of eternal life in a world where humans will live forever after. Talos



"Welcome to the world," a creaky voice exclaimed.
Blinding light fell in through windows high into the ceiling, the incessant hiss of steam and clattering of metal echoed in through exposed brick.
The creature lay motionless, it's face contorting against the sudden flood of stimulation hitting it's mind. Forcing it's shutters closed above it's eyes, it mustered the strength to sit up, the internal wires and gears screeching as the unweathered metal scratched against itself. Raising it's hand to it's face it felt the smooth layer of freshly hardened clay mixed with the cold crosslacing of metal and brass buttressed across it's skin.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" a low and pained groan emanated from deep within the accordion folded false-lung situated within the body. Eyes opening again to the warm light cascading in and bouncing off of metal contraptions and wooden furniture, the creature turned to look at the beaded face of the man standing at the bed side. Aided by a cane, the elderly man leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on the creature's leg and stated, "I am Doctor Bartholomew Richtastern. I created you. You must have many questions but they will be answered in time. For now, your name is Talos."


Masts fluttered in the wind whipping off of the choppy seas, a mix of salty air and fish guts wafted across the warf as the two walked slowly amongst the bustling crowd of fishermen and sailors all shouting over the crowd. Talos turned his head to observe the chaotic scene unfold around him. Men in oversized denim ran this way and that, hulking claymen carried barrels and lofted cranes carrying crates of wares.
"This is Yasherman Harbor. The center of trade for our little island. I apologize for the noise, but this is the fastest way to the monastery." Bartholomew said softly, barely a whisper within the cacophony.