tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15529638908212597562024-03-19T05:24:45.691-07:00Composer of WordsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-63595389873259837442014-11-21T18:39:00.001-08:002014-11-21T18:39:39.831-08:00The Origins of Kalista, The Spear of Vengeance<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19.5px; margin-bottom: 23px;">
Millennia's ago, before the League of Legends was created, before Demacia and Noxus warred for control over Valoran, and even before the Runic Wars; there was the Empire of Shurima. Once spanning over most of the south of Valoran, centuries of internal strife, civil wars and plagues weakened the Empire and sent many of its citizens fleeing. These pioneering immigrants spread across much of the continent, building the origins of many of the cities that still stand to this day; Demacia and Noxus included. Others even fled overseas, inhabiting the Blue Flame Island, Ionia and even the crumbling kingdom of Burian in the Feral Isles. Yet with much work and political cunning, a young prince by the name of Azir slowly rose through the ranks of the Shuriman Empire, garnering support from all those who would declare allegiance, and crushing all those that didn't. Once Azir had consolidated his control as Emperor over all of Shurima, he turned his gaze towards those that had fled the Empire. Those that, he claimed, were still part of the Empire.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="text-decoration: underline;">*****</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19.5px; margin-bottom: 23px;">
Thud.</div>
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The arrow cut through the air, sinking deep into the temple of its unsuspecting victim. The now dead soldier crumpled to the ground, marinating in the blood, vomit and piss that covered the battlefield. A foot passed over him, then another and another; as a formidable looking contingent of spearmen marched through the battlefield, finishing off all those that were still alive. The purple cloaks of the spearmen stood out strikingly, in contrast to the gold lining of their amour and shields. A long blast of a war horn rang out, echoing across the battlefield, bringing the spearmen to a sudden halt.</div>
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The battle, if it ever was a battle and not just a slaughter, was over.</div>
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The spearmen suddenly drew to attention as a large canine figure strolled into sight from behind them. Clenching a large spear from which protruded some blade closely resembling a war axe, the canine individual was a fearsome sight to behold. Once finished inspecting the carnage strewn across the battlefield, it turned back to the line of spearmen that was standing in attention in front of it.</div>
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"Officer. Give me a status report on the enemy survivors." commanded the gruff canine voice.</div>
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A spearman on the far right flank broke away from the line, and laying down his shield and spear on the ground, kneeled and replied.</div>
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"My Lord Nasus. We have eradicated any resistance we have come upon. The enemy soldiers, though few in number, put enough of a fight to allow the women and children to escape into the Bubbling Bog. However our scouts are tracking them down now as we speak. Furt-"</div>
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"Pull the scouts back" interrupted Nasus with little hesitation.</div>
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"My Lord, my utmost desire is to obey your will; however did not the Emperor himself command all his legions, us included, to bring all Imperial citizens back to the Empire?"</div>
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"Fool! Do you dare lecture me on the will of our Emperor?"</div>
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The officer trembled where he was kneeling on the ground. He knew that his career, and possibly even his life, hanged on what he said next.</div>
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"No, my Lord. No." replied the officer in a quivering voice. "I will send word to retract the scouts immediately."</div>
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"Good." replied Nasus as he turned and began to walk away, uttering a single phrase quietly under his breath.</div>
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"Enough blood has been spilt this day."</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="text-decoration: underline;">*****</span></div>
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3 Months Later</div>
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<span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="text-decoration: underline;">*****</span></div>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19.5px; margin-bottom: 23px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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The water slapped and slurped against the wooden planks of the ship, like a sloppy wet kiss of two youngsters. A seagull perched at the bowsprit of the ship, enjoying the view and breeze as the stem of the slip sliced through the gentle waves. In the distance, the faint shapes of islands barely protruded from the horizon. Suddenly sensing movement behind it, the seagull cawed and quickly flew away as a young girl replaced its place at the bowsprit. The slicing of the waves splashed droplets of salty sea water into the young girl's face. Sputtering from the onslaught of the droplets, the young girl wiped her face and quickly tied her raven black hair into a pony tail. Now no longer hidden by her fearsome dark hair, her gaunt face became illuminated as the rays of sunshine played across her face, highlighting her high cheek bones. She stood there for several minutes, soaking in the sunlight and rejoicing in the warmth of its soft caress.</div>
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"Kalista!" a voice behind her rang out, abruptly interrupting her.</div>
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She turned around to see a young boy making his way quickly through the deck, dodging the sailors as they went about their work. By the time he finally reached her, his breaths were quick and shallow; exhausted by the effort he had just undertaken.</div>
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"What is it Jaziun?" replied Kalista quite curtly, unhappy by the rude interruption he had caused.</div>
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Finally recovered enough to speak, Jaziun straightened out from where he had been bent over trying to catch his breath.</div>
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"Mum says we are almost at the Feral Isles. She wants you to be down in the bulge in a few minutes so that we can all be ready before we dock."</div>
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"Get a grip Jaziun. We aren't going to dock by the end of today, let alone even tomorrow. Can you not see how far away the Feral Isles are in the distance over there?" she remarked as she pointed a single finger to the faint islands on the horizon.</div>
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"Captain Fortune says we have a strong north westerly wind behind us. Captain Fortune says that the Conqueror's Sea often creates very strong winds that blow ships very fast to their destination." He paused to take a deep breath, before resuming his speedy monologue. "Captain Fortune also says that that's why it's called the Conqueror's Sea; 'cause back in the old days lots of people from the Burian Kingdom in the Feral Isles sailed across this very sea and claimed the lands of Shurima, Urtistan and even Kaladoun, as their own. Captain Fortu-"</div>
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"Jaziun!" exhaled Kalista, clenching her fists tight and trying not to shout at him "Please..... Please, stop talking."</div>
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Slowly stretching out her clenched fingers, she resumed.</div>
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"You can tell Mum that I will be down there in just a minute."</div>
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Openly surprised by his sister's frustrated reaction, Jaziun turned and quickly hurried away the way that he had came. Kalista turned back to the bowsprit after he had finally disappeared from sight, and took it all in one last time.</div>
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The gentle rocking of the waves.</div>
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The creaking of the ship as the wind continued to fill her sails.</div>
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The sound of the sailors being ordered here, there and everywhere.</div>
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The gentle marriage of sky and water as the sea and clouds faded into one at the edge of the horizon.</div>
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The Feral Isles slowly becoming more and more visible.</div>
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A chill ran down her spine as she looked closer and closer at the ever increasing isles. <em>Whatever those isles hold will now be our future, </em>she couldn't help think.<em> Chased from our homeland and into the embrace of a strange land which is now all that remains of the once proud and powerful Burian Kingdom. May the Ascendants take pity on us and protect all of us. Myself, my mother and my brother.</em></div>
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Letting out one final deep sigh, she turned around and began to walk away; leaving the ship's bowsprit finally without an occupant.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-42869868105302437342014-08-06T15:42:00.001-07:002014-08-06T15:42:23.405-07:00Is It Well With My Soul?<div class="MsoNormal">
Is it well with my soul?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When troubles mount up and the skies grow dark, is it to the
Lord whom I turn to for help?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I hate what I see in the mirror</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I cry tears of pain</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I gasp mouthfuls of hurt</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the world comes crashing onto me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I struggle with the apathy of not giving a damn</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do I turn to the Lord?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is it well with my soul?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every time I turn aside</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fapping to porn. Addictive games.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each time looking a brief ride</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To leave my responsibilities and my anxiety</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yet the more I do it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The more hollow I become.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The longer I stare at that screen</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The more I can see myself slipping away</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pixel by pixel</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not because I struggle with my horniness</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nor because I enjoy video games sometimes that I become
enraptured in them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is because for that short amount of time</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or some days, a long amount of time</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I no longer place the Lord as the most important in my life</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead I replace him, in all his majesty, love, peace and
patience</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With something that should never be there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Lord God.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the walls come crashing down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When my friends forsake me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And my family hates me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
May I always find refuge in your embrace</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
May it always be well with my soul</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not so that I can only lean on you in the hard times.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But through both the good and the bad</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
May the Lord my God, My Saviour.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Be the only thing in my life that I ever need. Ever want.
Ever had.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-30289749913400261642014-08-06T03:28:00.002-07:002014-08-06T03:28:48.392-07:00All My Life I Have Wanted To Be In Love<div class="MsoNormal">
All my life I have wanted to fall in love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love the desperation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The honesty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The vulnerability.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have liked many a girl. I have even possibly come close to loving one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yet I never thought that this would happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never thought I would fall out love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never thought that my feelings would sink away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each day a little more of the pool in my heart, drying up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And as much as I hated the pain of knowing that my feelings for her were not returned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bittersweet pain of her not even thinking of me in more than just a friend.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hate this more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I no longer have no pain to cling desperately onto, like a drowning sailor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fingernails digging in with all might as my lifejacket is slowly wrenched from my grip.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As she slowly escapes the aspirations of my heart and dreams.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead I now stand at the shores of my heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Watching in the distance the beauty of the sea.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I still see the storms. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The waves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The deadly currents and the sharks slowly circling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But out there at least I had the occasional glimpse of hope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of rescue.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of my lifejacket. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of my aspirations.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead I now stand here, the waves now crashing at my feet. The sand running between my toes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am trapped on a desert island.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Baren. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Devoid of life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Devoid of feelings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I want to care about her once again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to slowly sink under the waves, with her almost within reach.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-75227201171448083582014-05-20T12:40:00.002-07:002014-05-20T12:40:52.847-07:00Love<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Love.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
The smile that brightens your face when you see that you have a text from her.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Love.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
The lump in your throat when she smiles and looks your way.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Love.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
The way that her black wavy hair delicately brushes over her exposed shoulder.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Love.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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The twinkle in her eye when she looks at you with some hidden joke.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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Love.</div>
<div style="color: #404040; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; line-height: 18.899999618530273px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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The sound of her laugh reaching my ears like a bubbling brook watering a cracked desert.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-78879164136495389862013-10-07T15:07:00.002-07:002013-10-07T15:07:41.820-07:00The Bittersweet Taste of Love<div class="MsoNormal">
Your beauty is that of myths and legends,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So rare and precious that men would fight over you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For you have become the essence of all things captivating, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a way, only you could do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have stolen my attention, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like a thief in the night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And my knees grow weak, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every time you enter my sight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With eyes like jewels, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That lure my gaze. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your skin so soft,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You never cease to amaze.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I find being with you is like a drug,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An emotional high that never descends.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every time you glance or at me or give me a hug, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want it to never end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your laugh like the rain,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A pleasant sound to my ears.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yet I watch in fascination, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As you fill me with all the fear,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of all the things I could wrong,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you're next to me, right here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For I would pronounce my undying love for you, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If only you would hear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now as you have ignored me, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My day seems as black as night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your light is gone from my world,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Vanishing far away from my sight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet I would cross the farthest ocean,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just to be by your side,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To hear you say my name.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With me you could confide, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All your secrets, all your pain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All your hurts you want to hide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But alas, it wasn't meant to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So here I will eternally bide, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the other side of the farthest ocean,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waiting for you to be here,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By my side.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbnz798W2aTrZaYRPD8-dR2Nq88T1OFXNanBklu4GHEYSbSKslRuUl-QDJUi5E5qE57H7irGZUOTB_GM8k6lSisA_DHlfbivbVKik4AJhDu7zcKhEOETO3CO8B2WEKdgH-u46DzTl1f-E/s1600/___in_love_by_oprisco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbnz798W2aTrZaYRPD8-dR2Nq88T1OFXNanBklu4GHEYSbSKslRuUl-QDJUi5E5qE57H7irGZUOTB_GM8k6lSisA_DHlfbivbVKik4AJhDu7zcKhEOETO3CO8B2WEKdgH-u46DzTl1f-E/s400/___in_love_by_oprisco.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-91566514152466234542013-10-07T13:13:00.000-07:002013-10-07T13:14:32.877-07:00The Closet Door<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> I'm sure I close the
closet door alot more than I ever open it. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This thought perplexed me as I reversed my car, headed to
another monotonous day of work. I was a single 24 year old, who lived alone,
didn't have any pets and very few friends. Strangely enough though, the closet
door wasn't the only odd thing that had been happening over the last couple of
weeks. I found many a thing not where I left it. The TV was on and on mute when
I came back home the other day. My chicken sandwich had disappeared from the
fridge this morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> What could possibly
be causing this? </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I dwelled on it as I continued my drive to work, and
then suddenly a solution came to mind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> Screw it. I'm gona
find out once and for all. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I slammed on my brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. I did quick U turn and
start heading back home. A few minutes later I pulled into my driveway, stopped
my car and quickly walked to the door. Unlocking it and closing it behind me, I
walked upstairs and into my bedroom only to be greeted by a familiar sight. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It had happened again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The closet door was open.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided to put my plan into action. Closing the closet
door first, I hurried over to my bedside drawers and opened the top draw,
pulling out a black small bag. Unzipping it, I pulled out my video camera. I
turned it on and positioned it on my bed, making sure that it can see the
closet. I pressed the record button and then carefully positioned some dirty
clothes over it, obscuring it from view, yet making sure that the lens wasn't
blocked either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My plan accomplished, I headed back downstairs, locked the
door and hopped back into my car. Sure I was going to be late for work, but
this was worth it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day passed like any other day at work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Boss comes by to
check on my progress, and starts asking questions. Yes Sir. No Sir. Three bags
full sir.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Toilet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coffee break.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Repeat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But what really was on my mind the whole day, was that video
camera lying on my bed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>What will the video
camera catch on film? </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The thought plagued me as the hours slowly and painfully
inched by. The hands of clock finally struck five, after what seemed like an
eternity, and my day at work was finished. I walked very quickly through the
office, needing to get home as soon as possible. I could see out of the corner
of my eye that some of my co-workers were raising their eyebrows in amusement
at the hurriedness of my pace, but I didnt care. I needed to see what that
video camera recorded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Workcard punched.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Crowded elevator.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Underground carpark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Car keys in my hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unlock my car.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Engine started.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pedal to the metal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My car shot out of the underground carpark and onto the
road. I was probably speeding now that I think of it, but at the time, speeding
was the least of my worries.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>What will the video
camera catch on film? </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pulled onto the onramp for the motorway, it usually being
the fastest way home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Fuck. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had forgotten about the traffic. Cars lined the motorway,
slowly inching along every few seconds. Everyone was trying to do what I was
doing... Trying to get home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sun had set by the time I finally pulled onto the street
that I lived on. It had taken me a good hour and a half to get home through
that congested motorway, and to make things even worse, it seemed like the
power was out for the whole suburb. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Stupid electricity
companies doing work at the worst times. Typical. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pulled into my drive, hopped out and almost ran to my
front door. Unlocking it and closing it behind me, I flicked on the light switch. Nothing
happened. I let out a heavy sigh, as I remembered that the power is down.
Stumbling in the dark, my hands outstretched feeling for the walls, I finally
make it to my kitchen cupboards. My hand grasped blindly in the dark, trying to
feel for the box of matches and candles
that I knew was there in the top shelf. Or at least, was meant to be in there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Please. Please, still be here...Aah, got them.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally feeling them, I grabed them both and after a few
minutes managed to start lighting candles. Leaving one candle flickering by the
front door, I lit another one and my way upstairs. To my bedroom. Stepping
through the doorframe, I squinted trying to see in the low light whether the
closet door was open or closed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thank God.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The closet door was closed. Just as I left it. This, at
least was a good sign. Heading over to the bed, I pulled of the clothes and
looked for my video camera. It was also just where I left it. It was still even
recording. I stopped and then saved the recording, and then I hit play.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was glued to the screen, expecting to see some ghost to
appear on the video recording. A minute
passed. Nothing happened. Then two, then three. I started fast forwarding it.
Still nothing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Maybe there was nothing after all.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then suddenly something flashed across the screen in the
video recording. I held my breath in anticipation , but the fast forwarding was too fast and I
couldn't see anything but a blur. I immediately rewound it and pressed play,
and what I saw made my body freeze in terror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A man had walked into my bedroom, opened the closet door,
got inside, and closed the closet door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>HOLY FUCK!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Screw ringing the police! I have to get out of my house..
NOW!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still holding the video camera, my legs lept into action. I
raced out of my bedroom and down the stairs. Almost skidding on the floor, I
turned while running, heading for the front door. And then I froze.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a man blocking the door. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In his hands lay my metal baseball bat. A grin escaped his
lips as he uttered but a single sentence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Did you think you were alone in the dark?"</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-71095004698986097842013-10-03T22:31:00.000-07:002013-10-03T22:31:15.351-07:00The Mansion [Part 3]<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
We all stood there, staring at the bloody handprints.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Shocked.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Dumbfounded.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Matt was the first to break the silence. "That's it guys. We are getting out of here first, then we're gona call the police."</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"Wait, we can't just leave that little girl.... She needs our help!" exclaimed Aroha, as she hurried over to Maria, enveloping the now crying beauty in her arms.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"Did you see a little girl, though? 'Cause I sure didn't. So let's just go now, okay!" spat out Randy.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"You bastard! Are you a calling me a liar?" shouted Maria, her shock quickly turning to anger. "I know what I saw!"</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"Calm down guys!" I shouted over the top of everyone. "Let's just sort this out, and a make a decision. Together."</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Surprisingly everyone stopped bickering, and looked my way, waiting for what I had to say next. I slowly rubbed my temple with my fingers, desperately trying to collect my thoughts and say something that would help.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"Look guys.." I continued "IF there is a little girl in there, and we leave now to go back to my place and call the police, it might be too late for her by the time the police arrive." I paused, then resumed. "How about we try get inside the Mansion, find the landline phone while keeping an eye out for this girl, and then call the police from the landline? Or does someone have a better idea?"</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
We discussed back and forth for a few minutes every option. Some accused others of being spineless cowards, others of being delusional drunkards, but at the end everyone agreed, some grudgingly, that we would go with my plan.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
We split up initially, everyone circling the Mansion trying to find some open window or unlocked door that would allow us to sneak in, without having to forcefully break in. We soon found though that there was no such door or window. We reconvened and decided to smash a window, climb through it, and find the phone from there. Tane managed to find a nice rock that did the trick, and a few minutes later, we were all inside.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
We all took in our surroundings. We were in a large library, bookshelves covering every part of the wall. We had a look around, but there was no phone. We checked the next room, and the one after that and still, there was no telephone. So we decided to split into two groups as to find the phone faster. One group, comprised of me, Kate, Randy, Aroha and Hayato, was going to keep checking the downstairs rooms, while the other group, comprised of Matt, Tane, Maria, Patricia, were going to check upstairs.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Minutes dragged by as we frantically looked around, hoping and praying to see that telephone, or some sign of that little girl. We entered the next room, a large lounge by the looks of it. And then we saw it. On a small coffee table in the corner of the room.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
A phone.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Randy raced over to it, picked it up, put the phone to his ear. He reached down to dial, and then froze.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"What's wrong Randy?" Kate called out. Randy didn't reply. I followed Randy's gaze. The rotary dial of the telephone was covered in blood. And below it, lying on the carpet was a hand.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
A mangled sawn off hand.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
At the sight of so much blood, Randy wavered and fell to the floor, causing a loud bang to echo around the large lounge. He had fainted.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Before any of us could get to him though, we suddenly heard a noise. A noise that was coming from behind one of the couches. We had awoken something.... And now it was coming for us. I don't remember what the others did, but I stood motionless, my whole body frozen in fear. My eyes glued to that couch. The noise continued. It was coming closer. A hand emerged from behind the couch, the palm pushing hard against the carpet floor, as if holding someone up. The fingers on the hand extended out in opposing and unnatural angles. Someone had gone through the struggle to break every single finger in a different direction. An elbow soon followed the arm, and then a shoulder. And then a face...</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
It was a little girl.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Or what was left of a little girl.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
Her nose had been cut off... Her earlobes, bitten off... Both of her eyes were almost completely swollen over by massive bruising that surrounded them. Parts of her scalp showed through, from where her long black hair and had been torn off. And I will not even describe to you what state the rest of her body was in, for such cruelty and malice has no place in the world of the living.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
And even though it was the most horrific thing I'd ever seen, I yearned to run over to her side and pick her up. Comfort her, tell her everything was going to be okay. Tell her that she was still a beautiful little princess. Yet I did not move, nor did I speak, for the horror that my eyes beheld was paralyzing.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
She must have looked at all of us, hurt by the looks of horror and disgust that we could not hide. But all I remember was locking eyes with her, those eyes brimming with pain and suffering that I could only begin to imagine. And as her bruised lips moved to utter something, I sank to my knees and began to weep.</div>
<div style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; padding: 0px;">
"Help... Me...." the little girl gasped.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-48903751863724904712013-09-30T16:40:00.000-07:002013-09-30T16:40:22.122-07:00The Mansion [Part 2]<div class="MsoNormal">
To be honest the trip there was quite uneventful. Sure some
of us slipped over due to the slimey clay and got their arses dirty. Others
somehow managed to find the deepest part of the bog, sinking past their knees
into the dirty filthy water. Squeamish Maria even managed to convince Randy to
piggy back her across the bog, though me and Matt were really hoping that Randy
would trip, sending them both face first into the bog. I would have loved to
have seen that. Anyways, we all crossed the bog eventually, and after a decent
amount of hiking up the steep inclined hill, we made it. We all stood under the
cover of the manuka trees that bordered the edge of the bush, drinking in the
sight that lay before us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perfectly mown grass lawns stretched before us, intercepted
by what looked like to be vegetable and flower gardens, and behind that - the
Mansion. To be honest, it truly was a mansion in every sense. There was a
massive tiled courtyard that surrounded the main entrance, decorated with
tables, chairs and even barbecues in a
perfectly symmetrical design. All the doors and the frames of the windows and
sliding doors appeared to be made out of solid mahogany wood, which in turn
colour complemented both the tiled courtyard and the rest of the house's
exterior walls. There seemed to be so many windows, that I never even tried to
guess how many rooms lay within. All in all, I'd say that the Mansion covered
at least 600 meters squared, if not more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember it was Kate who made the first move. She must
have stepped forth, her feet scrunching the perfectly trimmed grass, but to me
it had always seemed like that girl glided on the air. The way she moved and
turned...a dancing angel in our midst. The way that she flicked her long black
curls, causing the sunlight to frame those deep blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to
dance and smile whenever I saw them. She was my dream girl.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kate turned around, surprised that no one had followed suit.
"Come on guys" she giggled "Last one there buys next week's
beer!" And with that, she raced off in a sprint towards the Mansion. That definitely
did the trick. Within a matter of seconds we were all sprinting over the grass
lawns, none of us wanting our wallets to be lighter next week. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Out of the eleven of us that sprinted across the imaginary
finish line and onto the tiled courtyard,
it was Hayato and Patricia who tied for last place. "I guess that
means we're having the double the amount of free beer next week!" I
shouted to both of them, giving Matt a sneaky wink at the same time. Hayato
immediately started cursing in Japanese, very unhappy at such a thought - which
only caused us to break into fits of giggles and laughter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's okay Hayato" I called back to him, struggling not to
break in laughter again. "We don't drink that much...". That proved
to be to be the last straw, as we all burst laughing again, the truth usually
being far from that. Laughter is thankfully infectious and it was only a matter
of seconds before Hayato was laughing alongside us, our lungs gasping for air.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, I guess no one is home, or we would know by now
I think" proclaimed Randy, pushing his ever slipping glasses back onto his
nose. "He's got a point, guys" replied Tane " If there was, we
would have been chased off by now by some guy with an air rifle, or some stupid
freackin son of a-"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tane was suddenly interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream that
came from behind us. We all turned around, startled and freaked out by the
terror that the scream had expressed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was Maria. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was standing rigidly still. Her body frozen in fear. Her
mouth still open, as if her bloodcurdling scream had frozen in her throat. Her
eyes leaking tears. Her right arm stretched out, pointing with a trembling
hand. Pointing at one of the many sliding doors of the mansion. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Time slowed as my eyes followed her trembling pointing hand,
hoping this was all some sick prank. But what I saw still haunts me to this
very day. Leaking down the glass sliding door was two bloody handprints. Two
long bloody handprints that seemed like they had been clawing at the glass. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Girl...." Maria gasped "There was a little
girl there."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-89167911176208987552013-09-30T16:33:00.001-07:002013-09-30T16:33:15.336-07:00Stephen King's 2 simple tips to becoming a writer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqQHP3o-IkQS3bVuBk8A24M3JG1kAgVAFOfi9ENsHlCBdLRUSej9py3H1qQ4b0NkYJrmhnQsMru87ohIOPaFgUxfp6Z5CWpBe8nYakHihPsgGqjEArBOshRk2Gd8AAhAR-jDknTySROLx/s1600/Writing-Tips-Stephen-King-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqQHP3o-IkQS3bVuBk8A24M3JG1kAgVAFOfi9ENsHlCBdLRUSej9py3H1qQ4b0NkYJrmhnQsMru87ohIOPaFgUxfp6Z5CWpBe8nYakHihPsgGqjEArBOshRk2Gd8AAhAR-jDknTySROLx/s400/Writing-Tips-Stephen-King-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-26546676831744811812013-09-28T20:35:00.001-07:002013-09-28T20:35:57.211-07:00The Mansion [Part 1]<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was a teenager (which was only a few years ago, if
you know what I mean) I used to chill the bush that surrounded my house with a
bunch of my mates. You have to understand, this was Kiwi (aka New Zealand)
bush. It's not nice open space between trees, with grass and pine needles
covering the ground. Instead the trees are dense and close together, vines
growing over the wet slippery clay - as there is virtually no top soil.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyways me and my mates would usually kick back a couple
beers, and occasionally goof around in someone else's property while the owners
were away. More than once we got chased off by some freackin mongrel mutt that
fancied taking a bite out of our arses. But that never discouraged us, as we'd
just go another property the next time. We were the lords of the land. At least
that's we thought, until everything changed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and the end of our last
year in high school was in sight. In celebration of this I bought a couple of
extra packets of beer to our chillout that afternoon. Time started to pass
quickly, as it always does when you're
having a good time, and before I knew it - it was almost time for everyone to
go their seperate ways. Just as the first of us were getting ready to leave,
someone yelled out "Hold up guys. Let's not leave yet. Let's go to someone's
property."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The voice belonged to Maria, the hottest and at the time
most intoxicated girl in our group. She was a straight up gorgeous platinum
blonde that wore usually only tanks tops and short shorts, which fitted her curvaceous
figure like a glove.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We've done them all" replied my best friend and
wingman, Matt Caerdon "It's just boring now."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Loud discussion broke out amongst the group, everyone
wanting to voice their own opinion on the subject. But amongst all the noise
and discussion, it was the quietest voice amongst the group that caused
everyone to be silent. A quiet voice that uttered only five words.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We haven't done the Mansion."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The silence hovered over us all for what seemed like an
eternity as we all contemplated the idea. You see "the Mansion", as
we called it, was a large mansion (who would have guessed) at the furtherest
edge of the bush. Not only did it physically look daunting, but getting there
was even more daunting as you had to
cross a small bog and then climb a very inclined slope that was crammed with
trees reaching up to the sky above. Only a couple of us had ever bothered to do
it before, but none of us had trespassed there before. Funnily enough, the
Mansion had always seemed a too grand and proper of a place to goof around, or
at least to me it did. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The silence was broken as Maria raised her beer bottle and
let out a massive "Hellz yeah!". Not everyone was as keen on the idea
though. Randy, the usually quiet nerd of the group, and the one who had
originally suggested the idea too, was unusually vocal in his support for the
idea. <i>Maybe he's finally trying to get his chance with Maria</i>, I thought.
The Maori twins (as I called them), Aroha and Tane, were in favour of it as well, along with Hayato (the foreign
exchange student) and Matt Caerdon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rest of us, including me, were undecided on it - with a
few completely against it. So in the end it was put to a vote, with the
majority getting their way and the rest had to tag along. The votes were cast.
Hands shot up and down in favour of the different options, but it soon became
clear that only one option was ever going to win.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was settled. We were going to the Mansion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-3770303377580344802013-09-27T18:42:00.000-07:002013-09-27T18:42:04.944-07:002. The Verdict (Part 1)<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Let me
out. Now!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The words
rang out through the Conclave of the Sceptre. They echoed down dusty passageways
and through dimly lit hallways. The words were coming from one of the rooms
nearly at the top of the Forum. Those where the rooms where the noble and the
famous were often accommodated in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Lady
Abina. Please, stop yelling." begged the little ystin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Get away
from me, you creep. Just you wait until my father hears about this. Then he'll
have you diced up and fed to his pets. Now, let me out" she paused,
waiting for the fury little ystin to give in to her demands "NOW!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Please
milady, please stop screaming. You have nothing to fear. We are not here to
hurt you, rather we are here to protect you"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Protect
me from what? I got here all by myself, without a single injury, bruise or
fight. And as soon as I enter this wretched city, I got seized and locked away
in some dungeon, stuck with some bug looking creature."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Milady,
this is no dungeon. This is one of the best rooms that the Forum of the Sceptre
has to offer. You will want for nothing here. Your every need will be accommodated
for."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Every
need? Every single one of them" Lady Abina looked closely at the ystin,
trying to discern if she was being lied to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Yes milady"
replied the ystin with a great smile. Happy that he was finally getting
somewhere this rash Imperial lady "Your every single need."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Good. Then
let me out..... NOW!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The ystin
finally gave up. “ By the Watchers, I swear that you are a hopeless woman.
Enjoy shouting at the top of your lungs with only you to hear.” And with that
said, the ystin turned and walked to the locked door, it's body leaning down on
its two front claws while its four remaining legs shuffled behind. The ystin
raised its claw and tapped the door. Twice. The door jerked open and a large
karuuni stepped into sight, armoured and holding large spear. The lady Abina,
scared of its size and appearance, took
a step back out of fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">“Yes sir?”
spoke the gruff karuuni, towering far above the ystin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">“She is all
yours. I'm off to tell the Sceptre that they have no hope of cooperation from
this lady...” the ystin paused “Pah. Has
the manners of a gutter woman if you ask me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The feathery
karuuni stood to attention as the ystin walked away and then proceeded to slam
the great oak door closed. What sounded like a bolt, was placed across the
door, causing a small screech to be emitted from the rubbing of the oak door.
And then there was silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">Lady Abina,
no longer having anyone to scream at, walked over to the bed lying in the
corner of the room. She sat down, and
let out a heavy sigh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<i><span lang="EN-US">Now what</span></i><span lang="EN-US">, she thought to herself.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<i><span lang="EN-US">How do I
get out of here?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">A heavy
silence overcame the room, one that would not be interrupted by anything trying
to make noise. And as Lady Albina lay on her bed, desperately trying to form an
escape plan, the silence lulled her into a deep sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid black 1.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm;">
<div class="Standard" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid black 1.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">Many people
would say that a problem shared is a problem halved. However today, Lord Elushsir,
Head Chairman of the Sceptre, would disagree. Today was the tenth Forumday since
the summer solstice and tradition dictated that on any Forumday, anyone could
present a case to the Sceptre as long as the case involved the people of Rudain
as a whole. So far, the spice merchants had put forth their case, asking for
more protection to be granted by the Sceptre, as their caravans were often
falling prey to bandits and Aluyca Imperials. The fisherman and farmers of the
coast had presented their case,
reporting that their land was slowly being taken over the sea - which no one
believed. And the head of the Sacellum of Ichohn was about to present his case,
asking for military backing in his hunt to burn and kill Murkilid cultists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">Lord Elushir
let out a sigh, rubbing his temple between his fingers. <i>Murkilid cultists having nothing to do with the affairs of the Sceptre,
</i>he thought<i>. Deal with th-.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"My
Lords of the Sceptre" someone called out from the crowd surrounding the
Forum podium, interrupting Lord Elushir's self musings."We have an
important case for the Sceptre that needs to be addressed immediately".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The owner of
the voice came into view as he finally reached the front of the crowd. He was an
old karuuni dressed in the garb of the Seaside Watch, his once large and
powerful body worn down through the countless solstices he had seen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The
representative of the Ichohnites, disgusted at the thought of his case being postponed,
was quick to respond. "My Lords of the Sceptre" he rebutted
"Surely the matters of the Sacellum of Ichohn are far more important than
that of the less-than-honourable Seaside Watch." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The representative
paused as if waiting for a rebuttal, but receiving none, he continued. "So,
as I was say-"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"You
would be wise to heed your words, Ichohnite." boomed Lord Elushir, his
voice silencing all those whispering in the crowd. "The Seaside Watch carry
out an honourable duty, one which the safety and security of Rudain relies on.
If, you do not believe so, perhaps we could arrange for you to join their ranks.
Maybe then you would be convinced of their importance and honour."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">The
Ichohnite representative stepped forth aggressively - his eyes flared in
outrage. "Never has a humble servant of Ichohn been treated so....With such
contempt" he yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"And
maybe it was about time that someone did then" replied Lord Elushir. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">Upon hearing
this, the crowd burst into fits of laughter and giggles. Even a smile leaked
onto Lord Elushir's face as the Ichohnite representative stomped off the podium,
his face bright red from embarrassment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Quiet!"
roared Lord Gaelin of the Sceptre, smashing his wooden gavel down repeatedly on
the desk in front of him. The crowd fell silent, none of them wanting to be
singled out by Lord Gaelin, for he had a reputation for conscripting those that
did not obey him. Lord Elushir, quite unimpressed by the Lord Gaelin's
behaviour, looked back to the old karuuni who had silently remained standing
there since he had first arrived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US">"Present
to us your case."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-25183478627754861652013-09-27T16:17:00.000-07:002013-09-27T16:23:04.748-07:00The Solution to Writer's Block<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi398LRb61X4MiguzYnhYLnP_jw9LR3Qli5HOLv1iSDhwvSapOnGaIF_J-8GBCME1Rlg-I64NeHWTu_7y7KZuTinHESVHpM8CtzvYAsSf-i6m_3m3VTk8Ns0yXkU5hiN19YOlUyZUg1nPq1/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi398LRb61X4MiguzYnhYLnP_jw9LR3Qli5HOLv1iSDhwvSapOnGaIF_J-8GBCME1Rlg-I64NeHWTu_7y7KZuTinHESVHpM8CtzvYAsSf-i6m_3m3VTk8Ns0yXkU5hiN19YOlUyZUg1nPq1/s640/images.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<strong style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feedback as well!</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-84203297111694711852013-09-26T21:39:00.003-07:002013-09-26T23:03:01.996-07:00Tom Clancy's Writing Advice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/yvqfflp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="http://i.imgur.com/yvqfflp.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Is reality stranger than fiction?<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feedback as well!</b><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-2213712961244875182013-09-26T16:24:00.000-07:002013-09-26T19:09:45.351-07:00Bagels and Indecisive WomenShe sat on the chair, her eyes reflecting an internal struggle. Should she take 4 or 5 packets of bagels. She could not decide. She leaned down and turned to me and said "Is Scott coming tonight?" I was busy writing. I had to stop to think about her question.<br />
<br />
"I think so" I replied "He usually comes to Friday night meetings. I think he quite enjoys the food to be honest. Not that I can point the finger, for I enjoy it as well."<br />
<br />
She decided to take five lots of bagels in the end. She walked across the lounge and into the kitchen. Pausing at the oven, she picked up the recently boiled kettle, and poured herself an invigorating cup of hot water. Having satisfied her thirst, she turned to the bench - her eyes devouring the moorish muffins she made yesterday. Before I knew it she was sitting down at the table next to me, fully enjoying the simple pleasures of life - a drink in one hand, a muffin in the other.<br />
<br />
And she turned around and looked at the bagels again.<br />
<br />
<b style="color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;">If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feeback as well!</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-15272760238986351012013-04-05T17:40:00.000-07:002013-09-26T19:09:19.580-07:00The Boy who fell asleep in the Woods<br />
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
One afternoon, a boy went out to take a stroll through the woods that surrounded his house. He started to feel really tired, so he sat down in the shade of a large oak and closed his eyes, and he fell asleep.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
He woke up a quite a few hours later. The sun had set, and it was dark. Very dark. He got up and started hurrying home, wondering if his parents had started worrying about him being out so late. He finally reached the edge of the woods, and there was his house. But something was strange. He couldn't quite put his finger on it until he realised that it was very dark, yet the house lights weren't on. He didn't think too much of it though, and just kept on running. He got to the front door and realised that it was already ajar. This was where he started to get worried. </div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
He slowly opened the door and looked inside. Not being able to see anything, he fumbled for the light switch. Finally he found it. He switched the lights on, and he gasped at what he saw. The lounge & kitchen was trashed. Chairs were broken, tables lying on their side. Practically everything was on the floor, broken into pieces. </div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
"Mum? Dad?" he called out, hoping that this was just some bad joke.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
No answer. Silence remained. </div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
Deciding to check out the rest of the house, he tiptoed through the destroyed lounge, trying not to disturb anything. He reached his parents bedroom door. His hand reached out to twist the doorknob, but he froze. The doorknob had blood on it. Alot of it.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
He turned the bloody doorknob and opened the door to his parents bedroom. He stood in the doorway. Frozen. Frozen in fear and shock by what he was seeing. Laying on the floor were his parents. At least if you could still recognise them, that is. Their bodies had been hewn apart, bit by bit, joint by joint, so that what remained was pieces. Half a finger here, another kneecap there. However the abhorence of this scene was that all the pieces had been place back in order. Some sick twisted thing had hewn their bodies into tiny pieces, and then tried to put them back into order. Like some disgusting version of puzzle.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
The sight of it al was too much for him. He bent over in disgust, and emptied his stomach of his half digested lunch. Suddenly there was a noise from behind him. Someone must have heard him vomit. He turned around, ready to bolt, but he was too late. A fast moving wooden plank emerged out of the darkness behind and hit him square on the back of his head. He was knocked out cold. Completely unconcious.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
He woke up with a gasp. He looked around, trying to see where he was. Suddenly, he realised. He was sitting in the shade of the great oak. The sun had set, and it was dark. Very dark. Just a dream he reassured himself.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
It was just a dream.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
He He got up and started hurrying home, wondering if his parents had started worrying about him being out so late. How could I have slept for so long, he thought. Finally, he reached the edge of the woods, and there was his house. Something was wrong though. The lights were off.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
No, it couldn't be, he thought. He was sure that it all had just been a very bad dream. A very bad nightmare. Realising that the last thing he remembered in his 'dream' was been hit in the back of the head, he slowly rose his hand. Time slowed as he raised his hand to feel for the bruise that prove whether it was just a dream or not.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana; font-size: 12px;">
It was just dream, he thought. Or wasn't it?<br />
<br />
<b style="color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;">If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feeback as well!</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-27880766748858710342013-04-04T13:07:00.000-07:002013-04-04T13:07:03.864-07:00Joss Whedon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCbWlY2WpTw/USrFAthBGJI/AAAAAAAANKA/Ku-Q5PPIi9Y/s1600/joss_whedon_on_characters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCbWlY2WpTw/USrFAthBGJI/AAAAAAAANKA/Ku-Q5PPIi9Y/s640/joss_whedon_on_characters.jpg" width="570" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;"><b>If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feeback as well!</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-75243547962845820692013-04-03T18:40:00.001-07:002013-04-03T18:40:54.790-07:00Some more great writing advice from George R. R. Martin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/6bB6xWr.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="http://i.imgur.com/6bB6xWr.png" width="640" /></a></div>
So funny, but so true!<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;">If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feeback as well!</strong><br />
<strong style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;"><br /></strong>
<strong style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Bitter, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21.984375px;"><br /></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-59985962283817816822013-04-03T13:28:00.000-07:002013-04-03T13:28:32.692-07:00John Steinbeck's writing advice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Some of the best writing advice that I've read! But don't take my word, read it for yourself! If you're interested in the source of this, this was from a letter that John Steinbeck wrote in 1962.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/D8Yza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://i.imgur.com/D8Yza.jpg" width="520" /></a></div>
<div>
<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><strong> </strong></em></div>
<div>
<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><strong><br /></strong></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-2087188328895517502013-04-02T23:46:00.000-07:002013-04-02T23:46:01.860-07:001. Herald (Part 2)<br />
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Smash. The mug flew
through the air, eventually crashing into the wall just behind its
original target.
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ha! You missed me you
stupid crab” a voice of man boasted, resonating around the tavern.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ok ka tt ka ta tito cad
tatso” replied the crablike creature in a series of clicks</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“You expect me to
understand your incoherent clicks. Pah. You mirelurks really are as
dumb as they say.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The man raised his head
slightly above the table that he was taking shelter behind.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Woosh. Another mug flew by
his face, missing by less than an inch, but managing to spill its
contents all over the man's garment</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That’s it you piece
of crustacean. You really want to fight, so come on. FIGHT ME” he
shouted as he jumped up, expecting to come face to face with his
mirelurk opponent. A look of surprise washed over his face as he saw
no opponent in front of him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Umph. Coward of a crab.
They really are as pathetic as I thought they would be. Wouldn't even
fight an old man.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That is correct. They
won't fight an elderly man. Seasand, escort him outside” announced
the tavern keeper as he stepped in front the man</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Seasand? Seasand...who
the bloody hell is--”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The man was suddenly
interrupted as a giant pincer grabbed him by the waist and pulled him
into the air. The pincer belonged to Seasand the mirelurk, who had
patiently been waiting behind the man as the tavern keeper talked to
him. Still keeping the man trapped in its pincer, the mirelurk walked
across the tavern and proceeded to throw the man through the doorway
and into the dirty mud below the tavern steps.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pah..... pah”
sputtered the man as he scraped off a layer of mud that had entered
his mouth. “So... you mirelurks really are as strong as they say”
he said, admiring the creature that now stood in front of the
tavern's door, completely blocking if off. With four legs that
protruded from a large torso and large arms that ended with pincers
that could sever a mans head with ease, the mirelurk was a fearsome
sight indeed.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Let me parley with this
man for a moment. Go inside and enjoy a plate of shellfish on the
house. If I am in need of your services again, I'll call you.” came
the tavern keeper's voice from inside. The mirelurk turned and went
back inside, but not before letting of a stream of clicks that the
man assumed were meant to be offensive against him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“So, by what name are
you called?” called out the tavern keeper as he stood out of the
tavern's door and started walking towards him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pssh” the man
shrugged as he stood to his feet. “I have been called many names,
especially by the ladies – if you know what I mean.” He winked,
while giving the tavern keeper a friendly elbow. “But my friends
here call me Llyr.... And your name?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well Llyr, I am pleased
to make your acquaintance. My name is Verius Hurea Thiul Ligustus. My
fam---”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pleased to make your
acquaintance Verius Hurea Thiul Lebustus” interrupted Llyr, as he
pulled off a mocking bow</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ligustus....Not
Lebustus my dear fellow. Ligustus. Nevertheless, as I was saying
before, my family has run this tavern here in Rudvain for the last
200 years. We are also beginning to set up other taverns in the other
cities of the Free League such as Yylus, Burian and---”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Cut to the chase
Verius. What do you want from me?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Aah. A decisive man. I
respect that. This is my proposition to you. We go back inside the
tavern, have a couple of drinks, and you tell me your story about how
you ended up here in Rudvain. You see I have always been a bit of an
aspiring writer, and therefore I would thoroughly enjoy talking to a
man, who at the ripe of 49-50, picks fights with mirelurks without
even being drunk. So... What is your answer?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span lang="en-US">Now you're
talking, mate” grinned Llyr as he started making a beeline for the
tavern door.</span></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“One more thing Llyr”
said Verius</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“What?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Don’t pick another
fight in my tavern, especially not with that mirelurk. Is that
agreed?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr paused on the tavern
steps, contemplating Verius's words, before turning around to face
Verius, a grin plastered over his face</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Sure.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: 1.00pt solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“...and so that is how I
ended up here, in Rudvain.” finished Llyr, before sculling the
last contents of his mug.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A content smile spread
across Verius's face “Well, that was quite the tale. Thank you my
friend, for recounting it to me.” He suddenly hesitated, his
eyebrows furrowed together in concentration</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Wait...Wait a second.
Forgive me if I am wrong, but you never told me what clan you are
from. Or is my memory wrong?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr took a deep breath,
and then slowly let it out in a pensive sigh. “No. You are right. I
forgot to tell you.... My full ti-” he hesitated, then resumed “
My full title is Llyr of Kraash.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Kraash.... Kraash...
<i>Hold on. </i>The Kraash? As in the great forest of Kraash?” He
uttered in astonishment, finally recognising the name.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Sadly. Yes. Unless you
know of some other forest named Kraash?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“No. No, of course
not... I am just completely bewildered. The only human clan that ever
roamed those woods were supposedly wiped out, victims of some
genocide from an invading Awolk colony.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Upon hearing those words,
Llyr's eyes suddenly fell to the table as if a heavy burden had just
been placed upon his shoulders. Verius looked at him, trying to make
eye-contact, yet Llyr's gaze avoided him as if he was stared down at
something more than just his empty mug.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Llyr” Verius softly
called, trying to break whatever reminiscing was taking in Llyr's
mind, yet no acknowledgment or response was made. “Llyr....?” He
repeated, receiving the same silent answer as before. “<i>Llyr.”</i>
he finally shouted.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr's
head suddenly jerked up, his eyes taking in his surroundings, as if
he had just been somewhere else. His eyes locked with Verius's,
confusion momentarily clouding his face before he smiled, recognising
the bar tender's face.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Enough
talk about me” said Llyr “Tell me some news about Rudvain. What
are the spice prices like here?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Spice
prices are starting to rise dramatically as both spice caravans &
cargoes are becoming and less and less frequent. The Scepter has sent
ambassadors to both the spice caravan and cargo routes to inquire as
to why spice shipments to the Free League have become rarer. Some in
the city claim that it is the fault of the Alvaca Empire, that they
once again are trying to interfere with the Free League, but I
believe such rumours are simply frauds. The Alvaca Imperials have not
marched on the Free League for over 500 years, and they are even
weaker now then before.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pah.
Those pompous Imperials aren't a threat to anyone outside of their
tiny empire. They would never interfere with the dealings of the
influential Free League, that I can assure you”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“I
do agree with you there Llyr. But the Imperials are not the ones who
have me worried. Far stranger things seem to afoot. Local fishermen
are reporting that the ocean waters are slowly rising every day. This
season of the Sun has just passed the record for the hottest that the
Athenaeum has on record. And amidst all of this, rumour has it that
the Muerkilids have started meeting in secret once again..... But my
lips betray me, I probably shouldn't have told you this much.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Rest
easy mate. I am no Imperial sympathesir nor am I a Murkilid cultist.
Though..., I'd imagine that an Imperial or a Murkilid would say the
very same thing.” Llyr smiled, an ironic grin spread over his face.
“But getting to the point of why I am here, do you know of any work
that is up for grabs in this city? I'm somewhat a jack of all trades,
and can pretty much do anything that is needed... So?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well...
Rudvain has few job niches in which an accomplished individual could
make some profit, but currently with the spices running out, I'd say
that your best hope was to get a job with the Sceptre. They
constantly send out expeditions to faraway lands, so they are always
looking for skilled individuals to guard them on their journey.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Mercenaries,
in other words”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Mercenary
is such a derogative term. We, here in Rudvain, prefer to call them
'Soldiers of Fortune'.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Hmph.
You can call them whatever you want. It doesn't change what they
are..... Nevertheless, I think it would be suitable work for me. It
wouldn't be the first expedition I've guarded as it traveled into
some unknown land. Now would you would you be good enough to guide me
in the right direction”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Consider
it done. I was going to be closing up the tavern after how long last
night was anyway. Meet me in around 30 minutes at the marketplace,
and I'll lead you to the place and even get you a meeting with your
soon-to-be employers.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That
would be great. I truly appreciate your help. Is there someway I can
help you out in return?” They both rose to their feet, as Llyr
prepared to leave.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Not
now. But maybe...Maybe another day.” Verius hand rose from his
side, stretched open in an expectant handshake. Llyr's hand completed
the handshake, as they both let out a small grin. They had helped out
one another, and as side consequence had started to establish a
friendship between one another.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-width: 1pt; border-style: none none solid; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.07cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Fresh
fish. Fresh fish going cheap” called out a large creature from
behind it's stall</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Hot
bread. Hot, tasty bread going for 1 ounce of spice” shouted back a
fat lady from the opposite side of the marketplace. The market was
crowded with it's usual morning customers, all jostling around trying
to get the best bargains before everyone else did.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Amidst
all this busy hecticness, Llyr wandered aimlessly throughout the busy
crowd. His eyes searched randomly through the crowd, searching.
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Stupid Verius. He said
he'd be here to meet me. I knew I-</i></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
His
thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the market crowd suddenly
started condense, as if making a passageway for someone to get
through. Llyr strained his neck, while stretching on tippy toes,
trying to see who was passing through. Failing to see, he started to
elbow his way through the dense crowd. Finally making it to the edge
of the crowd, he finally laid eyes on what everyone else was so
enraptured by. Marching in front of him, was a ragtag group of what
seemed like soldiers, many of them limping along due to their wounds,
while a few others carried what seemed like an unconscious woman.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Strange. They don't
seem like soldiers. Must be some patrol of some sorts....</i></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Turning
to a large karuuni squatting next to him, he asked “Who are they?
Soldiers?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ha.
They aren't even close to soldiers. They are the Seaside Watch.
You're unlucky in you get drafted into them.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Interesting.
What happened to them?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Rumour
has it that they come upon frenzy of wildlife eating all the
survivors of a shipwreck down at Scuttle Cove. That unconscious woman
was the only one they managed to save. No one knows who she is
though. So they're taking her to the Sceptre, so that they can
question her when she comes to.” replied the karuuni, as it swatted
a fly away with it's long tail.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Llyr.
There you are. I finally found you.” called out Verius from behind
them.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well,
I've been waiting here for over an hour. And now you finally show up.
Hhmph.” Llyr sighed “Well, are you going to take me to my future
employers?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Patience...
Yes I will, but I believe that we will want to hear this tragic story
of this unconscious woman first of all. This might be your chance to
get some work. Plus, she is going to the Sceptre as well, we may as
well just tag along.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Smash. The mug flew
through the air, eventually crashing into the wall just behind its
original target.
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ha! You missed me you
stupid crab” a voice of man boasted, resonating around the tavern.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ok ka tt ka ta tito cad
tatso” replied the crablike creature in a series of clicks</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“You expect me to
understand your incoherent clicks. Pah. You mirelurks really are as
dumb as they say.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The man raised his head
slightly above the table that he was taking shelter behind.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Woosh. Another mug flew by
his face, missing by less than an inch, but managing to spill its
contents all over the man's garment</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That’s it you piece
of crustacean. You really want to fight, so come on. FIGHT ME” he
shouted as he jumped up, expecting to come face to face with his
mirelurk opponent. A look of surprise washed over his face as he saw
no opponent in front of him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Umph. Coward of a crab.
They really are as pathetic as I thought they would be. Wouldn't even
fight an old man.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That is correct. They
won't fight an elderly man. Seasand, escort him outside” announced
the tavern keeper as he stepped in front the man</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Seasand? Seasand...who
the bloody hell is--”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The man was suddenly
interrupted as a giant pincer grabbed him by the waist and pulled him
into the air. The pincer belonged to Seasand the mirelurk, who had
patiently been waiting behind the man as the tavern keeper talked to
him. Still keeping the man trapped in its pincer, the mirelurk walked
across the tavern and proceeded to throw the man through the doorway
and into the dirty mud below the tavern steps.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pah..... pah”
sputtered the man as he scraped off a layer of mud that had entered
his mouth. “So... you mirelurks really are as strong as they say”
he said, admiring the creature that now stood in front of the
tavern's door, completely blocking if off. With four legs that
protruded from a large torso and large arms that ended with pincers
that could sever a mans head with ease, the mirelurk was a fearsome
sight indeed.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Let me parley with this
man for a moment. Go inside and enjoy a plate of shellfish on the
house. If I am in need of your services again, I'll call you.” came
the tavern keeper's voice from inside. The mirelurk turned and went
back inside, but not before letting of a stream of clicks that the
man assumed were meant to be offensive against him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“So, by what name are
you called?” called out the tavern keeper as he stood out of the
tavern's door and started walking towards him.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pssh” the man
shrugged as he stood to his feet. “I have been called many names,
especially by the ladies – if you know what I mean.” He winked,
while giving the tavern keeper a friendly elbow. “But my friends
here call me Llyr.... And your name?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well Llyr, I am pleased
to make your acquaintance. My name is Verius Hurea Thiul Ligustus. My
fam---”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pleased to make your
acquaintance Verius Hurea Thiul Lebustus” interrupted Llyr, as he
pulled off a mocking bow</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ligustus....Not
Lebustus my dear fellow. Ligustus. Nevertheless, as I was saying
before, my family has run this tavern here in Rudvain for the last
200 years. We are also beginning to set up other taverns in the other
cities of the Free League such as Yylus, Burian and---”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Cut to the chase
Verius. What do you want from me?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Aah. A decisive man. I
respect that. This is my proposition to you. We go back inside the
tavern, have a couple of drinks, and you tell me your story about how
you ended up here in Rudvain. You see I have always been a bit of an
aspiring writer, and therefore I would thoroughly enjoy talking to a
man, who at the ripe of 49-50, picks fights with mirelurks without
even being drunk. So... What is your answer?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span lang="en-US">Now you're
talking, mate” grinned Llyr as he started making a beeline for the
tavern door.</span></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“One more thing Llyr”
said Verius</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“What?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Don’t pick another
fight in my tavern, especially not with that mirelurk. Is that
agreed?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr paused on the tavern
steps, contemplating Verius's words, before turning around to face
Verius, a grin plastered over his face</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Sure.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: 1.00pt solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“...and so that is how I
ended up here, in Rudvain.” finished Llyr, before sculling the
last contents of his mug.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A content smile spread
across Verius's face “Well, that was quite the tale. Thank you my
friend, for recounting it to me.” He suddenly hesitated, his
eyebrows furrowed together in concentration</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Wait...Wait a second.
Forgive me if I am wrong, but you never told me what clan you are
from. Or is my memory wrong?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr took a deep breath,
and then slowly let it out in a pensive sigh. “No. You are right. I
forgot to tell you.... My full ti-” he hesitated, then resumed “
My full title is Llyr of Kraash.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Kraash.... Kraash...
<i>Hold on. </i>The Kraash? As in the great forest of Kraash?” He
uttered in astonishment, finally recognising the name.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Sadly. Yes. Unless you
know of some other forest named Kraash?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“No. No, of course
not... I am just completely bewildered. The only human clan that ever
roamed those woods were supposedly wiped out, victims of some
genocide from an invading Awolk colony.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Upon hearing those words,
Llyr's eyes suddenly fell to the table as if a heavy burden had just
been placed upon his shoulders. Verius looked at him, trying to make
eye-contact, yet Llyr's gaze avoided him as if he was stared down at
something more than just his empty mug.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Llyr” Verius softly
called, trying to break whatever reminiscing was taking in Llyr's
mind, yet no acknowledgment or response was made. “Llyr....?” He
repeated, receiving the same silent answer as before. “<i>Llyr.”</i>
he finally shouted.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Llyr's
head suddenly jerked up, his eyes taking in his surroundings, as if
he had just been somewhere else. His eyes locked with Verius's,
confusion momentarily clouding his face before he smiled, recognising
the bar tender's face.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Enough
talk about me” said Llyr “Tell me some news about Rudvain. What
are the spice prices like here?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Spice
prices are starting to rise dramatically as both spice caravans &
cargoes are becoming and less and less frequent. The Scepter has sent
ambassadors to both the spice caravan and cargo routes to inquire as
to why spice shipments to the Free League have become rarer. Some in
the city claim that it is the fault of the Alvaca Empire, that they
once again are trying to interfere with the Free League, but I
believe such rumours are simply frauds. The Alvaca Imperials have not
marched on the Free League for over 500 years, and they are even
weaker now then before.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Pah.
Those pompous Imperials aren't a threat to anyone outside of their
tiny empire. They would never interfere with the dealings of the
influential Free League, that I can assure you”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“I
do agree with you there Llyr. But the Imperials are not the ones who
have me worried. Far stranger things seem to afoot. Local fishermen
are reporting that the ocean waters are slowly rising every day. This
season of the Sun has just passed the record for the hottest that the
Athenaeum has on record. And amidst all of this, rumour has it that
the Muerkilids have started meeting in secret once again..... But my
lips betray me, I probably shouldn't have told you this much.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Rest
easy mate. I am no Imperial sympathesir nor am I a Murkilid cultist.
Though..., I'd imagine that an Imperial or a Murkilid would say the
very same thing.” Llyr smiled, an ironic grin spread over his face.
“But getting to the point of why I am here, do you know of any work
that is up for grabs in this city? I'm somewhat a jack of all trades,
and can pretty much do anything that is needed... So?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well...
Rudvain has few job niches in which an accomplished individual could
make some profit, but currently with the spices running out, I'd say
that your best hope was to get a job with the Sceptre. They
constantly send out expeditions to faraway lands, so they are always
looking for skilled individuals to guard them on their journey.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Mercenaries,
in other words”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Mercenary
is such a derogative term. We, here in Rudvain, prefer to call them
'Soldiers of Fortune'.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Hmph.
You can call them whatever you want. It doesn't change what they
are..... Nevertheless, I think it would be suitable work for me. It
wouldn't be the first expedition I've guarded as it traveled into
some unknown land. Now would you would you be good enough to guide me
in the right direction”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Consider
it done. I was going to be closing up the tavern after how long last
night was anyway. Meet me in around 30 minutes at the marketplace,
and I'll lead you to the place and even get you a meeting with your
soon-to-be employers.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That
would be great. I truly appreciate your help. Is there someway I can
help you out in return?” They both rose to their feet, as Llyr
prepared to leave.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Not
now. But maybe...Maybe another day.” Verius hand rose from his
side, stretched open in an expectant handshake. Llyr's hand completed
the handshake, as they both let out a small grin. They had helped out
one another, and as side consequence had started to establish a
friendship between one another.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-width: 1pt; border-style: none none solid; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm 0cm 0.07cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Fresh
fish. Fresh fish going cheap” called out a large creature from
behind it's stall</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Hot
bread. Hot, tasty bread going for 1 ounce of spice” shouted back a
fat lady from the opposite side of the marketplace. The market was
crowded with it's usual morning customers, all jostling around trying
to get the best bargains before everyone else did.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Amidst
all this busy hecticness, Llyr wandered aimlessly throughout the busy
crowd. His eyes searched randomly through the crowd, searching.
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Stupid Verius. He said
he'd be here to meet me. I knew I-</i></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
His
thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the market crowd suddenly
started condense, as if making a passageway for someone to get
through. Llyr strained his neck, while stretching on tippy toes,
trying to see who was passing through. Failing to see, he started to
elbow his way through the dense crowd. Finally making it to the edge
of the crowd, he finally laid eyes on what everyone else was so
enraptured by. Marching in front of him, was a ragtag group of what
seemed like soldiers, many of them limping along due to their wounds,
while a few others carried what seemed like an unconscious woman.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Strange. They don't
seem like soldiers. Must be some patrol of some sorts....</i></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Turning
to a large karuuni squatting next to him, he asked “Who are they?
Soldiers?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Ha.
They aren't even close to soldiers. They are the Seaside Watch.
You're unlucky in you get drafted into them.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Interesting.
What happened to them?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Rumour
has it that they come upon frenzy of wildlife eating all the
survivors of a shipwreck down at Scuttle Cove. That unconscious woman
was the only one they managed to save. No one knows who she is
though. So they're taking her to the Sceptre, so that they can
question her when she comes to.” replied the karuuni, as it swatted
a fly away with it's long tail.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Llyr.
There you are. I finally found you.” called out Verius from behind
them.</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well,
I've been waiting here for over an hour. And now you finally show up.
Hhmph.” Llyr sighed “Well, are you going to take me to my future
employers?”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Patience...
Yes I will, but I believe that we will want to hear this tragic story
of this unconscious woman first of all. This might be your chance to
get some work. Plus, she is going to the Sceptre as well, we may as
well just tag along.”</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><strong>If you enjoyed reading this, please follow/subscribe and like this post! Otherwise, feel free give any feeback as well!</strong></em></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-43075802508048098952013-03-26T23:10:00.000-07:002013-03-26T23:10:39.054-07:00Prologue (Alternate Version)<br />
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
The ocean rose. Day by day it rose, it's waters washing over the scarred landscape. The beach was the first to be submerged. The barren plains and fields soon followed suit. Soon the ocean's water reached the mighty workhouses that constantly belched thick black smoke out of its narrow chimneys, making quick work of them as well.</div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
The inhabitants of the island tried desperately to stop the rising ocean. Some built walls. Some took refuge on the highest hills, while others built boats to get away from the sinking island. Yet their efforts to save their island were in vain,</div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
The walls didn't stand long against the force of the ocean. The hills weren't high enough to get away. And so the waters kept on rising until one day the highest spire of the highest tower, finally became submerged</div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
And where there was once a heavily populated and industrious island, now there just was.....Water.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-62025978876817800532013-03-18T02:40:00.000-07:002013-03-18T02:40:50.971-07:00The Man who Procrastinated<br />
There once was a man.<br />
Who had a terribly short attention span,<br />
Due to never wanting to work.<br />
<br />
He would procrastinate<br />
because he didn't like the stress,<br />
of having to overcome the anxiety<br />
of all the work he had to address.<br />
<br />
Yet everyday, the more he procrastinated,<br />
The more he felt self-discriminated.<br />
By his own laziness.<br />
By his own guilt.<br />
<br />
And so he wallowed in self pity,<br />
Everyday feeling really shitty.<br />
As he could never manage to stop the cycle<br />
That was making his life so frightful.<br />
<br />
The more he avoided his work,<br />
The more stressed he became.<br />
And due to getting ever-increasingly stressed,<br />
He would ever-increasingly avoid his work.<br />
<br />
And then the man died, unfufilled and full of wasted potential.<br />
<br />
The End<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-36957678439418308952013-03-13T03:28:00.000-07:002013-03-13T03:28:24.843-07:001. Herald (Chapter of the book I'm working on)<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
High above the ground a bird soared
through the open sky, illuminated by the rising of the sun. One might
have thought that this was a simple raven or annoying magpie, but
this bird was neither. It was a seagull, and it was hungry for some
food. Out of the corner of its eye, it saw a group of humans marching
along the cliff side, but the seagull ignored them, knowing that
there was no promise of food there. However the seagull did notice
that there was an everincreasing crowd of birds on the beach below,
ravenously tearing something apart. The seagull, deciding that it
wanted to join in, started to circle down and gently landed on the
golden sand next to the other birds. It then proceeded to rip out a
chunk of flesh off what seemed to be a corpse, and swallowed it
whole. However, as the seagull turned around, it saw that this was
only one of many corpes on a beach that was almost full of bodies,
broken planks of wood, barrels, and teared up sheets of sail.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Very quickly the beach became covered
in a variety of wildlife. Birds, crabs, wild dogs were all busy
devouring the corpses, trying their best to eat as much as possible.
Out of seaside coves crawled came the kishins, four legged amphibian
beasts with a tail as strong as a dolphins, growing almost as tall as
a human child, ready to consume any form of meat. Even a gwoemul, a
giant slimey cousin to the salamander, emerged out of the sea and
started consuming corpeses whole, one by one, so that it could later
on vomit it back up to feed its offspring.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
However not all the bodies were dead,
and those that were merely unconcious begin to come to, as their
flesh was ripped off. Screams filled the air as the larger predators
present began to kill those trying to resist. One man even managed to
get up and started running for it, before a bunch of kishins chased
him down and tore him to pieces.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Meanwhile, close by on the cliffs above
a group of 20 or so humans (the very same group that the seagull had
spotted) came into sight. Slouching and already out of formation, the
Seaside Watch were never a troop that were easy on the eyes. Led by
an old, yet well known former privateer by the name of Captain
Kreigs, the Seaside Watch was comprised of men who were unlucky
enough to be on the wrong side of powerful individuals. Rumour had it
in the local city of Rudvain that anyone who angered a powerful
individual, soon became conscripted into the Seaside Watch for at
least a month if they were lucky, longer however, if not lucky.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Halt” cried Captain Kreigs as he
paused “Freud, get yar butt over here on the double. Now.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Yes sir....... Yes sir, I'm here”
uttered a very plump man named Freud, before doubling over due to
being out of breath.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Silence in the ranks. Shut yar
gasping, Freud. Now listen here, fatty” said Captain Kreigs as he
grabbed Freud by the scruff of his neck “ Rumour has it that the
reason ya are here is that ya're so good at 'listening' to other
peoples conversations. Now just a moment ago I thought I heard a
scream on the wind, so I want ya to summon all the brains ya can
muster and use dem real good ears of yars and try to hear if anyone
is actually screaming.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“ Yes sir” said Freud. Turning an
ear into the wind, Freud closed his eyes and just stood there...And
stood there, and stood there. After what seemed like an age, his lips
moved as he said “Yes sir, you were right, I can hear screaming. It
sounds like it's coming from one of the beaches further along. Maybe
even Scuttle Cove?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Aye” replied Captain Kreigs “Tis
what I thought as well. Alright lads, quick march on the double.
Someone might need our help down there in that damnable cove.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Fearing the punishment they might
receive for disobeying a direct order from their captain, the men of
the Seaside Watch obiediently organised themselves into formation,
and then followed their captain as he lead them along the cliffside.
As they got closer and closer to what was known as Scuttle Cove, the
screams became louder and louder, until some of the men started to
shudder at raw brutality of the screams they were hearing. And as if
the screams weren't enough, the infamous beach of Scuttle Cove
finally came into sight, causing one or two to even empty their
stomach right then and there from the sheer brutality of the carnage
below.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“All right lads. Tis time prove that
ya all are men. Get ya weapons ready and follow me. If anyone of ya
runs away, I'll make sure I kill ya myself, and that's a promise.”
shouted the Captain as he drew two daggers from underneath his cloak.
“Ooh and do try to find any survivors.” he said finally before
marching down the path down to the beach. The Seaside Watch followed
him faithfully down to the beach, even though many of them had never
been in a proper fight before, while others had been in too many to
count.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Once down at the beach, they spread out
in a line and slowly marched forward. At first the wildlife
hesistantly moved back to give them some room, but then two wild dogs
raced ahead and jumped at one of the men. The man managed to spear
the initial dog with his pitchfork before it got to him, but sadly
wasn't so lucky when the dog's mate following right behind grabbed
his neck between its jaws and ripped out his asophagus in the blink
of an eye, leaving the man choking for air as blood pooled into his
lungs. What followed was a massive blur, as the men of Seaside Watch,
enraged by the brutal death of one of their own, charged the beasts.
Most of the beasts immediately scattered fleeing back into their
caves or off the beach, but others, not wanting to abandon such a
feast of meat, fought. Swords sliced, teeth bit, spears punctured,
shields fractured, and claws ripped as both man and beast fell to the
ground dead. Even the monstrous slimey gwoemul, the last to be
killed, swallowed a few men whole, before Captain Kreigs managed to
slice through its soft head with his two daggers. And then suddenly
it was over, finished almost as quickly as it had begun.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Tiny, give me a count of our dead &
injured.” ordered the Captain “And the rest of-”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Captain Kreigs. Captain Kreigs, I
found a survivor. She's a woman!” interrupted Freud, yelling at the
top of his lungs. “She's unconcious, but she's alive.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Good, good. Tis usually good luck to
travel with a woman” muttered Captain Kreigs “Get someone to help
ya carry her back to Rudvain, and be careful with her. We need her to
talk.” Feeling at tap on his shoulder, the Captain turned around to
find Tiny (his real name being Jutya, but due to only being 4 foot
high most just called him Tiny) standing in front of him, or more
accurately, below him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Captain,
we lost 6 men, and we have 4 injured</span>” squeaked Tiny</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“What the blazes did ya say Tiny?
Speak up man.” replied Captain Kreigs, sinking to one knee so he
could hear him better.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Captain,
we lost 6 men, and we have 4 injured</span>” squeaked Tiny once
again</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Och... Tis a mighty shame. Get the
men together, though, I want to talk to them”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The men gathered in circle around the
bodies of their fallen comrades, standing in respectful silence until
the Captain stepped forward and spoke</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Sadly we neither have the manpower
to carry the bodies back to Rudvain, nor the time to give them a
proper burial, as the beasts will be back. We will help carry the
injured, but we leave the dead.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Yes
sir</span>” replied Tiny, even though no one heard him</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“The living will miss the dead. Yar
children will miss ya, yar friends will cry for ya, and yar lovers
will grieve for ya. But when the clouds once again rain down their
healing waters, then the dead shall rise up and rejoin the living.”
proclaimed the Captain</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“When the clouds once again rain down
their healing waters, then the dead shall rise up and rejoin the
living” replied the men in unison</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
““When the clouds once again rain
down their healing waters.......then the dead shall rise up and
rejoin the living” Captain Kreigs whispered one final time as a
single tear streaked down his face, before he turned around to lead
his men on the long walk back to Rudvain.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-38735036303709316442013-03-13T03:26:00.000-07:002013-03-13T03:26:26.157-07:00Prologue (Of the book I'm working on)<br />
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“Imagine....... Imagine...... Imagine
a far green country, with towering mountains, bubbling brookes and
wide open plains. The land was plentiful and the crops grew well. The
fish in the rivers & brookes never ran out, and neither did the
game in the forest. Yet, admist in such beauty, peace has never
reigned. For as long as we can remember, race has fought against
race, and tribe against tribe. Even the tales of our ancestors from
as far back as the Diluvian Days, tell of the great battles between
us all.</div>
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But hear my words now and remember
them, my son. There will come a day when the waters rise up to
reclaim this land once again, and in that hour, the races of this
land must unite to survive, or we shall all perish. For this has been
prophesied by my father, and his father's father, and all those
before him who carried the prophetic heirloom of our family. And one
day, if the Hiru will it, you will come of age and also witness the
vision that has been our line's responsibility for many long
generations.</div>
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If the Hiru will it, my son.....If the
Hiru will it.”</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1552963890821259756.post-53565663046650307052013-03-13T02:29:00.002-07:002013-03-13T02:29:52.454-07:00WelcomeWelcome one and all to my new blog, Composer of Words. Why composer? Well to be honest, I was trying to figure out what to call this blog, and then I looked up 'author' in the dictionary and the definition was "Composer of Words"! So there we have it.<br />
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Please feel free to subscribe. I'll be putting up a post soon with some writing that I am working on currently, if you're interested in that as well.<br />
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Have a great day<br />
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Fel EdorathAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03951012631637571633noreply@blogger.com0