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  1. #121
    The Duchess of Oddity Array Queen Kat's Avatar
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    Apr 2009


    The Evi L. Files, part 3:

    In the past years, Evi spent her time as an artist. She also gave readings about senseless violence in schools and prisons and bakes cookies for other handicapped people in nursery homes. Her neighbours describe Evi as a very friendly eccentric, that no matter how still had a funny smell. She only occasionally invited people into her home on her own initiative, but the people who did enter her house, all noticed the same things. Neighbour Janet Philips: “Now that you mention it, a few years ago it was Evi’s birthday. I remembered it because she mentionned it once and I thought ‘let’s visit Evi and bring her a lovely birthday cake’. Well, Evi was a helpful person who always did everything for everybody else. So why wouldn’t I give her this cake? She was very sweet and when she like you, she moved heaven and earth to get you satisfied. But I came inside and I noticed that smell, it was simply unbearable! It was terrible, I’ve never smelled something that bad in my whole life! I didn’t know what it was, I think it was because I wouldn’t place it with Evi and the way she always came across, but it was aweful! And everything was pink. Bright pink. Or some other candy colour. It hurt my eyes! And it was so freaking hot in there, I guess it must have been 50 degrees Celsius. At first I hoped what I could get a cup of coffee with her, but I couldn’t I just had to leave. I went home straight away and I remember telling my husband when I arrived home ‘Johnny, please, lose that porn quickly, I just came back from hell and believe me, it wasn’t frun’. I wondered how it was possible that anyone could live in a god foresaken place like that. It was simply unbelieveable. A few weeks later she put a Ronald McDonald statue in her front yard and she painted it pink and purple. I thought I was seeing ghosts or something, I thought it was me who was going mad. I nearly realized that I lived next to a crazy psychopath, but instead I started blaming myself. I couldn’t blame Evi, she was so sweet and charming. Nothing could kill that illusion she was creating.”

    In 2000 uncle Lewis dies from lung cancer, five years later aunt Clementine dies as well. Lewis and Clementine took care of Evi until the day they died. Evi never had serious relationships, according to our sources. If she ever had boyfriends, they always disappeared out of her life in some mysterious way. It didn’t seem to bother Evi when they were out of her life. By now it turned out that all of these boyfriends have become victims of Evi at some point. All of their bodies were found in and around Evi’s mansion. According to Evi’s diaries she got frustrated with them, because she couldn’t get orgasms because of her handicap. What could have possibly been the sex-appeal of this psychopath? We have a chat with Joachim Barber, an old art school friend of Evi’s. “Evi was so… pink. She always wore pink clothes, pink lipstick, pink eyeshadow, pink nail polish. Sometimes she made her paintings totally pink. I sa won a photo in the news that nowadays she even has pink hair. Well, of course she was the typical girly girl, now wasn;t she? Sometimes we called her Robot Barbie. She liked it. In the beginning I also thought she had a nice, big, firm ass as well. Until I tried to squeeze it. It was all metal. Evi tol dus that it was a metal bowl that catches all of her poo and urine, because ever since she broke her neck she also turned incontinent. Who would have thought?”

    Today we all know about all of Evi LeFric’s evil crimes. After all these years Robot Barbie, the girly birl, the good student, the early emo turned out to be a dangerous serial killer. How does her family react to this news? “The Evelyn we’re being hearing about in the news nowadays, isn’t the Evelyn I gave birth to 34 years ago,” mother Marjorie says. She’s getting emotional. “The Evelyn I gave birth to 34 years ago, died in 1975. The Evelyn in the news is not my daughter, it’s a monster.” Twin sister Natasha, who teaches criminal law at several universities, is having a lot of trouble with being the identical twin sister of Evi LeFric the last few weeks. “I have two babies and I usually pick them up from school whenever I can. So when I’m standing there waiting for Sam and Daniel to come out of school, people just don’t look at me the way they used to anymore. Hello, I’m still Natasha! I haven’t killed anyoen. I’m not Evi and she’s not my sister anymore. She tried to kill me when we were eight. She locked me up in the freezer and if I hadn’t screamed so loud I would have been frozen to death. How can people think something like that? I’m not Evi and I don’t support her actions, why do you think I teach criminal law? It’s aweful. I barely dare to go outside. There are always a couple of idiots who think I’m Evi and attack me for that reason. I’ve been beaten up this Wednesday as well and I’m staying inside ever since. Okay, I’m not Evi, look at me, I’m not a half robot, my nose is still looking fine! I just don’t like this anymore, but where can I go? I can’t go abroad, they’re searching Evi there as well, they’re searching her everywhere. I;d just better lock myself up then. You know, evil twins are just like children. You can’t know what it’s like to have them, until you have them.”

    The vanishing of this mentally ill murderer shocked the entire world. It also shocked one of her old victims, Gabrielle Grendel. Gabrielle was one of the first people to find out about Evi’s terrible personality. A few years later she got in a fight with Evi and broke Evi’s neck. On October 3, her husband, a top lawyer was found dead under the bridge of South 16th Street in Phoenix, Arizona. Now the police suspects Evi LeFric of murdering this poor man. How did LeFric’s vanishing affect Gabrielle Grendel? “Look, I don’t think LeFric killed my husband. My husband was down for a pretty long time, actually. He was about to turn 65, he didn’t like the thought of getting older, I think he wanted to stay young forever and he realized he couldn’t. That must have the reson why he married someone thrirty years younger than him, I think. I could have seen it coming. It was just a matter of time. But it doesn’t mean I’m not scared! What if she decides to hurt my children? Well, my fourteen year old daughter is a spicy young lady who can kick some ass, so she won’t become a victim that easily. But I wouldn’t like to think of what will happen once LeFric decided to hurt my little Benny. That child is only eleven. He has been following kick boxing classes and he’s pretty good, but he’s probably not that resistent to scary people in robot suits. So whenever he goes to school, I always make sure he’s not alone.”
    There is still some more.
    Last edited by Queen Kat; 11-29-2010 at 04:30 AM.
    I was sitting outside the classroom waiting to go in, and I saw an airplane hit the tower. The TV was obviously on. I used to fly myself and I said, "There's one terrible pilot."
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  2. #122
    Senior Member Array Synapse's Avatar
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    Dec 2007


    I wrote epic and bookish like in 2002, many different stories. I'm amazed at the scope of that year to see myself be unable to recreate that kind of intensity and creativity ever again sighs. I'll post a few more chapters of different story starters. From Arynthia and The Septire Chronicles.


    Isaac the Imperfect

    Isaac the imperfect, or Isaac the clod, best know for his stupidity then his genius was an inconspicuous stout little dwarf, a man to untrained eyes, yet so resembling a dwarf one would certainly have little trouble labeling him as such amongst other things. Actually Isaac is a half ling, but his blood runs thick with human nature.

    Dressed in an azure cloak, the stocky build behind the veil shows a considerable amount of physical exertion. Broad shoulders, white hair and a double dipped chin, with an almost straight gait to his walk. The black eyes with green pupils are cross-eyed, the strange mould covering half his face and no nose give him an eerie appearance. Of course he has a nose except in a tragedy best left forgotten he only has the two holes that once bore a robust, thick and rather hard to miss nose feature with a few warts that would make anyone consider him a witch rather then the village idiot.

    The sword attached to his belt makes him almost comical as he clobbers down the steps towards an unfamiliar town, shunned from the last, his feet covered in blisters, chipped nails and grazed skin. Unable to repress his hunger, an ominous protest rumbles as he heaves for breath. Dragging a sack full of his most precious belongings. A few stones, a gnarled rabbit’s foot, some leather garments, food and a strangely shaped rock that glows in the dark.

    The town wasn’t much to look at, mostly shanties and a few wealthier houses, a bar, a few shops and a leisure center, plus a few hobbles of less qualified architecture spread across his field of vision. Exhausted, Isaac moved with labored steps towards the bar, hoping to gain some type of accommodation. As he stopped to glance for a name, a rusty sign squeaked back and forth. He read, The Elders Sheath, although some letters were rubbed out so he couldn’t be sure.

    As he entered, an awful smell assaulted his deformed nose. Hesitantly he moved past the few villagers openly staring at him. “Good sir.” Isaac started as he sat himself down near an ogerish man who he assumed to be the owner. “Any lodgings in this fair place.”

    “Yee not be from round these parts.” Grumbled the owner.

    I removed the only money on me with great unease. “Do you have any room?” Rasping the last word, water was desperately on my mind, yet I couldn’t help but notice the villagers unblinking eyes as I sat there, hunched like a wrinkled potato.

    After a lengthy and cold evaluation the man responded. “I speak for all, you’re type isn’t welcome, dwarf.” He spat at a dustbin, missing terribly, instead hitting a broken bottle.

    I sighed, the response that I expected. Must I be so cursed as to be called a dwarf, even I don’t deserve that? “I can understand why you would assume that, good sir. But I can assure you I am no dwarf. I know my appearance seems off putting, even dwarf like, but I am no dwarf.” Force of habit made me clutch at my scabbard, knowing little good it’ll do me. Not only am I a bad swordsman, I couldn’t even cut an apple if my life depended on, still it was always reassuring to know I had some sort of steel for protection.

    The man rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Huh.”

    Unsure if the man heard a word I said I tried a different tact. “I do have ID, if that helps, I’m actually a bit of a half ling human, my blood…”

    Grumbling some more the man leans forward. “Show us.” Outstretching his hand he grabs for Isaac’s ID. Squinting through the dim light he reads Isaac’s ID.

    Jittery I turn round, a man with only one tooth grins at me as if he wanted something. “Honest, I’m no dwarf. I don’t like dwarfs myself, of course that’s not to put myself down but dwarfs are distasteful creatures. I can tell you…”

    “Enough.” Giving the card back to me he produces a key. “50 tins a night.”

    My heart plummets. “50 tines, but that’s…highway robbery.” I wanted to jump up and down in frustration but thought better of it.

    “Take it or leave it.” He outstretches his hand expectantly.

    Desperate I count my reserve money, if its fate, I must have been born with cruelty in mind. “49. Is, is, will that do for today, I can get the rest tomorrow, its just that I seem to be a bit short.” I try to give the man my best smile, but all that produced was revulsion.

    “No, 50 or nothing. I don’t like you.” The man seemed aggravated.

    The toothless man interrupted. “Ththeadorrrth. Gith him the rooom. Heerre the last tin ththorr the lad.”

    Both Theodore and I glanced the old mans way. I reached out and grabbed at the rolling tin anxiously. “Thank you.”

    “Humph.” Annoyed, Theodore hands me the key. “I guess its you’re lucky night, uh, Isaac. Old Finelster doesn’t know what he’s doing, if he was sober he’d not be as generous.”

    I tried not to look any more disconcerting than I already was. My self-conscious told me that I probably disgusted him more by my appearance than any dwarf would. I wonder why he let me stay, I suspiciously took the key. The last town outright nearly had me hanged the first sight of me, maybe it was my lucky day. “You are too kind, I apologize if I was rude good sir. It must be my training, you see I don’t get.” I stopped, I though better than to push my luck, flattery isn’t my strong suit.

    A little taken aback Theodore softens his facial features. “You look awful.” He takes an old mug that looked something from the prehistoric days and filled it with green water. “Here, have a drink, on the house.”

    I reservedly took the drink, tentatively taking a sip. It tasted bitter, I thought salt might have been a better alternative.

    “Good isn’t it.” Theodore Grins. “You must read the rules.” He points to the back of the kitchen door. “After you do that there is only one rule here. Stay out of trouble and no trouble shall come to you, understand.”

    Not at all comfortable at his remark I slowly made my way to the rules poster, taking the mug with me whatever good that’ll do. Even a dog would have a hard time drinking this stuff. Rule one, Keep still, don’t muck with anyone, but above all don’t sell yourself short. “What?” Keep your distance, even if you are, keep your distance some more, don’t even think about getting any closer. I read that again and thought to myself, get me a bucket, this is illogical, and I thought I was stupid. Always remain unseen, if they want to see you then they will, if you think you’re hidden then think again. I pause, scratching my head, this doesn’t make any sense. I almost made the mistake of turning round, fortunately I read the next line. Never turn round if you know what’s good for you, always keep your head straight or something bad might come tumbling down. It’s as if this was meant for my eyes only. I was curious, could this be a magic poster. I read the final few lines. Be on guard, you’re life is in danger, I do mean in danger. Beware the man with one ear. This is for your eyes only. That was all. I desperately wanted to ask Theodore what it all meant but I was too tired to even try. As soon as I finished my mind clouded and I forgot all of it, I wondered what I was doing here.

    “Yoush, come shit heerre.” Finelster shouts as if he caught his tongue in a revolving door.

    Confused and obliged his request. “Thanks for that tin.” I started. “I’m Isaac, Isaac Seenfeather. You’re Finelster right?” Rubbing my arm I plopped into the seat with a cautious relief putting the mug down.

    “Yesh, I be Lagosh Finelshter. Have yoush sheen my cat?” The old man grabs Isaac.

    “Lagos Finelster, that’s you’re name, yes.”

    Theodore replied across the room for him. “Yep, good old Lagos, you’ve never seen a truer soul then him. Once he sobers up he’ll be wondering whom in all the seven hells yee be. You best scamp on up to your room if you know what’s best for you.”

    Jittery I pried Lagos hand from my robe. “I think Theodore’s right, I should rest and so should you. You’ll probably forget me in an instant once the alcohol wears off. I want no trouble here.”

    Old man Lagos staggered to his feet in protest but just as soon fell back down. “Tish nosh way to be treashing your mate thish way. Come have a shwager o drinksh, on me.”

    Worriedly I tried to disengage as politely as could. “I really would love to stay and chat but its been a harrowing 24 hours for me, besides why would you want company with the likes of me, just look at me.” For a second time I stood up and successfully left Lagos presence for my room with odd looks accompanying my every move.

    Finally, what a day, If it weren’t for my appearance, I’d be treated like a king. The steps creaked in protest as I went up the dark hallway, I wondered weather I made the right choice. Maybe I should have camped somewhere in seclusion. I can’t trust anyone these days. Things are not right anymore. The troops took care of that. I hope little comes of today’s ordeals. Opening my room I groaned. The rooms were nothing short of sick, cockroaches scuttled away as the lights crackled to life. I had a funny feeling that this was going to be a long night.

    Not only did the bed smell of feces but the taps as I went to take a drink flowed with the same foul tasting water Theodore gave me. And the toilet, I was so disgusted I almost passed out, the smell was unbearable, has anyone heard of flushing. What’s this world coming to, I almost didn’t go, shit was sprawled everywhere. That night produced restless dreams that only begin to make sense in your nightmares.

    The Septire Chronicles

    The end of the Beginning

    A long time ago, before the world as we know it was created something happened. Something must always happen, it is a natural cause of events, something not in support to the flow of how things to the life that was meant to be lived. Something peculiar did transpire, it had a strange effect on the events that transpired after this event. This event is an ancient and long lost event that has been long forgotten. It is only by the graces that such an event can still be told.

    It is a forbidden event. It was meant to be a joke, a celestial joke, but it didn’t turn out that way. For with this event something happened that made the worlds as we know them. This event shaped the course of the galaxy. Time remained in freefall, temporal fleshlings were yet to imbibe the worlds as they became, yet as this event blew a slew of stars, planets and comets emerged. The cosmos became as the joke happened to be the universal edict that we know and prosper in today.

    This event, an event that few cares to remember holds a secret that may hold the fate of the celestial joke that we find ourselves a part of. It is no mere coincidence that the joke in question is the entire universe, the planets and stars that we take for granted. But amidst this joke temporal fleshlings took on shape, when these vessels appeared, something else happened. A transparent transformation from a once enviable joke to a now serious and real consequence to the intermittent original joke.

    The birth of temporal fleshlings in an otherwise barren and hostile universe took on a strong seriousness where once it remained a mere joke for the prophets of the celestial order of beings known as The All, an entity that existed and to mere temporal fleshlings represented as a God. Because in this world of ours where temporal fleshlings became unto themselves free willed life, a burden was placed upon them that time will only reveal when their time has reached a certain threshold of collective understanding.

    A once fertile and succulent joke happened to take on form and shape, from this event a planet in a multitude of planets appeared. The most alarming prospect for the cosmos was not weather this event originated as a joke but what happened after that makes it more than a mere concern. For in a corner of the cosmos a planet fermented and temporal life sprung where it was once assumed inhospitable. Many things and events hereafter mingled and came in their own terms of cooperation to have the sustainability of temporal life.

    It is when these temporal fleshling lives attracted spirits and consciousness did a trigger happen. Before this magnific moment the event happened out of jest. After which the celestial bodies took notice and forged the temporal fleshlings into vessels designed for the integration of spirit and consciousness. The development was one of skirmish. The All was a collective of a multitude, yet at the same time a whole. This imprint disagreed with the course and direction of how things were to take shape in this unique world of temporal life. For they were born to die. The temporal fleshlings had a certain amount of time before the corruptibility of their lives turned to decay and reversed the process of birth into death. Thus these temporal lives had urgency towards their mortal lived lives like nothing before their time?

    It is with these temporal lived vessels that direction, destiny and purpose was meant to be learned, because the multitude of The All was not infallible.

    It is at this point that strict universal rules took shape that is to this day upheld, morality is not one of them but gravity is. However things were imagined, things were never as they appeared, for this multitude had a strong voice that drowned the others into submission and molded the shape of temporal life in its image. From this archetype all things became with an unwilling consensus granted. Even so, beneath this veil of rightness, temporal life was at its base corrupted from the moment of its birth, since it was a point of fixated experience to learn.

    From The All the multitude disagreed with the direction and shape of how it was temporal life was to transpire thus subconsciously the lesser voices of The All altered temporal reality into their own satisfaction. However from this multitude one voice did attempt to dominate over the strongest voice of them all but failed. In doing so it became stripped of the multitude All and became an opposing device to the temporal life as it stands to this day with its host of celestial beings to give it that opposing grace.

    In the mean time the remaining multitude All in opposition to the main voice did so in quiet subversives. Thus from one temporal archetype sprung twelve racial archetypes that to this day remain in absence to the dominating racial archetypes of the African, Oriental, Anglo Saxon, Mediterranean, and Slavic races as the dominant archetypes. The other archetypes are still present, preserved and do persist in the modern world however as a legacy infused in the bloodlines of those dominant archetypes. Even so there may yet be living archetypes of the original twelve amongst the dominant archetypes yet hidden so well and absolutely that they are to that effect of extinction amongst their peers.

    Certain multitudes of The All subverted in a different guise and wanted a more direct rout to the souls of the temporal lived. Thus came into being a breed of predators that happened in most part to comprise of myth and legend in modern times, that of Vampires. Infused with an original pre-mandate of the sinful few beyond the coffers of the welkin offered by the strongest voice of The All. These beings became a dark taint, a nemesis to everything the temporal lived offered. Within these anti-life beings a multitude wanted their own kindred against that of The All or the original specimen of Vampire. Thus within the tier of multitudes subversion was not uncommon between them thus sprang forth thirteen Vampire racial archetypes.

    However as with the original temporal archetypes some are extinct or at least to such an extent that they are no longer known amongst their vampire kindred. However eleven still hold a strong impact in the world that is offered them and they are Toreador, Ravnos, Malkavian, Ventrue, Tremere, Brujah, Giovanni, Nosferatue, Lasombra, Tzimisce & Gangrel. Assamite & Setite being extinct or to that extent.

    Further still the subversion did not cease there, a third regime of archetypes stamped their mark upon the original temporal lives. This third house is that of Septires. The lesser multitude made these predatory guardians in the hope of offsetting the imbalance the temporal lives had against vampire kindred’s. However because the original event each regime grew in strength over the other, thus as the final archetype, at least for this world, their strength and standing in the grand scheme of things upon the world was superior to both the temporal and vampire archetypes.

    Within the spetire archetype, like with the previous archetype forms the multitude All that was privy to their concept wanted their own thus thirteen racial archetypes of the septire tribes were created. To the modern age, their concept is the most secreted and esoteric. Even amongst their respective collateral division, little is known of them. There are seven dominant archetypes that pervade over the others as Torequeme, Izsumbra, Soubirous, Turesfatue, Eremortaight, Kanklavian & Raveanian.

    Of the remaining six, Ansharite, Aseomatae & Atazamitea are less open and obvious to all racial archetypes, while dominant in their own way they prefer to remain like that of ghosts thus lack puritan dominance. As to the final three Su’adiah Goan, Ta’anite, Mu’tazilite it is hard to classify their pedigree. They appear Spetire in nature yet some multitude believes they are part of the original Temporal lived, one even suspects a connection to a vampire lineage. While they are profoundly dominant, they posses a strong link, a dormant link however to the septire houses.

    The All was not displeased to learn that the multitude did this. After all the strongest voice did the same, forming its own beings that of Seraph. Certain hosts receptive to the castrated one of the multitude became its own army. Yet as with everything the lesser multitude wanted to stamp their own imprints into the Seraphim lineage which is less obvious than the archetypes of the mortal kind. Yet a hand is played within the multitude All that only one knows, it is the original event, the event that became the catalyst for the entire experience that is in motion.

    Even so The All was satisfied that the balance did equate however painful and miserable it may assume to be when concerning the Temporal, Vampire and Septire Archetypes. The Temporal lived were possessed of soul, they were and are the unique entities that remain central to the multitude All in learning. However Vampire and Septire Archetypes respectively are born in spite of their soulless heritage as preternatural immortals. For in their abnormal circumstance their preeminent lives can still be terminated for they are part of the temporal lived, lives that one-day in time are perishables.

    It is with the Septire Archetype that comes the truest account of the greater skirmish between the multitude All that may yet threaten the very existence of the Temporal Lived. Yet even their internal struggle to become The Ultimate All has left them vulnerable.

  3. #123
    Senior Member Array Synapse's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2007


    Such strange nostalgia 02 was, I'll post some more starters.

    Mayhem's Mistress

    Chapter 01: A) The Ladies Luck

    ‘Good morning milady.’ The plucky servant, busty waist, busied herself folding the sheets.
    ‘Yes. What a beautiful morning, the sun is perfect isn’t it?’ Malinda intoned. ‘I would like to be left alone now.’ She turns her lithe body to her wardrobe, examining the many dress sizes and shoes in her possession.
    ‘As you wish, but remember to be ready tonight. The Welcolin will be displeased if you miss another prestigious event banquet. You should have seen the earl’s disappointment the last time you didn’t present yourself. He was seeing blue all the way home. Just be good to me child, it would not do us any good for you to be late, let alone boycott the event.’ The servant woman chided, as she finished her cleaning and walked away, leaving malinda to her own devices.
    Malinda scowled. Her blue dress loosely fit her European figure. The long locks of hair annoyingly set to her waist, as she tied them back. A regal appearance of beauty, her nimble body, with a square jaw, love handles and a smooth face. Her eyes exposed a sense of mischief, one destined for some adventure and infamy. Yet their cool green sheen, with a taint of Brazil nut style showed her years. A delicate flower, virginal and mostly impetuous, head strong and brazen always goes against the grain. ‘I should think not. Welcolin my foot.’ She mutters under her breath.
    As soon as her servant woman left, malinda opened the window to let the fresh air through. With another purpose in mind, she undressed and put on her traveling garments. A simple shirt adorned with the family crest, covered by a silver leather jacket. Her pants, tightly fit made her look like a tomboy, and with her trench boots the transformation was complete. Where a moment ago, Malinda was all regal and dressed to kill, now she looked like any ordinary citizen. With a quick smudge to her face, she rubs most of the unnecessary makeup away. Then pens a small note for her servant, before climbing out the window. Dropping to the tree she makes her way to the bottom.
    ‘How sweet it is to be out of that dreary place.’ Standing straight, her manner indicative of a princess, the castle walls extend for as far as the eye could see. Now at a cautious jog, Malinda runs towards the courtyard stables. ‘Henry.’ She shouts. ‘Henry, where are you.’ A crease folds upon her smooth face.
    ‘Right here milady.’ A stout lad, in his teens, snotty nosed and sooty approaches, brushing his dirty hands on his sleeves as soon as he sees who requests his assistance. The stable a clean pen for all manner of horse. Henry is the stable boy, looking after not just the regular horses, but guests and enemy alike, for Castle Danalen is on the fringes between the dark forests of Syrestree and the ill reputed county of Farnelsby.
    ‘I want you to ready Argus and be quick about it.’ Brushing her braided hair to a side, her intense look makes Henry squirm. ‘Of course if you ever upset my poor dear Argy again I’ll rip your throat out. He’s a sensitive creature, possibly the only one that understands what I’m going through.’
    ‘Milday, it is not my place to question, but shouldn’t you be getting ready for tonight’s banquet.’ Uncomfortable, he speaks his mind. As quickly bringing her beloved Argus to its forefront, taking care not to upset him.
    A look of annoyance replaces her churlish charm ‘That’s right little boy, it isn’t your place to question.’ Gruffly she takes the rains and rubs Argus’ belly in satisfaction. ‘A good job, I am glad your all right Argy. I would have hated to see you ridden by anyone else but me.’ She smooth talks to him.
    ‘Um, Mistress Malinda.’ Henry musters the courage to distract her bond with Argus. ‘I think you should hide, that is if you want to disobey tonight’s proceedings.’ He shows a face of defiance.’
    ‘Oh really, and what makes you think…’ She terns her lean body, scanning the immediate distance and shrinks. ‘Rats, the general’s men, Ceril must have gone back to my room. How silly, such a fuss for my little old self.’ She clutches Argus, her knuckles going white. ‘Where do I hide, henry.’ Panic escapes her voice, as her short-lived freedom is about to come to an end.
    ‘Don’t worry milady, you can trust me. I’ve prepared in anticipation a small trap door to the back of the stables. I knew you would sneak out again, you always do.’ He sighs.
    ‘Why Henry, thank you.’ Genuinely affected by the stable boys loyalty she gives him a quick kiss to the cheek and rushes for the trap door to hide.
    Surprised by the sudden affection by Malinda, Henries cheeks redden, his face warms and his heart beat races as he holds Argus who isn’t immune to things around him. He snorts at Henry; a slight moment of jealousy takes him, as his restless foot scuffles the floor.
    ‘You there.’ A charging group of men, clad in chain mail and heavy set swords, shielded to the other hand, and weighty leg plates with arm riggings close. ‘Stable boy. Just hold on there, what is Argus doing out this day.’ The first man halts, blocking the boys exit.
    A small trickle of sweat makes its way down his cheek as he regains his composure. ‘Captain Sordy. How are you this day? It is a pleasure and a surprise for you to give me your attention.’ He responds snidely.
    The rest of the men stop, all eyes on henry. Sordy not at all impressed asks again. ‘What is your business with Argus boy.’ An itch distracts his thoughts, as he tries to will for it to stop; yet it won’t abate. Within moments he takes his right glove off and scratches his arm in annoyance. ‘Well, it has been brought to our attention that milady Malinda has eloped once again. You wouldn’t by any chance be privy to her whereabouts.’ Sordy boars his tiny little eyes into Henries.
    ‘Why captain, are you accusing me of something. Why would I have concern about the affairs of the court, after all I am a lowly stable boy. I merely tend to the horses, they keep me company and I in turn keep them company.’ Brushing his hand through Argus’ main he calms the beast down as he himself focuses on something other than eye contact with Sordy. ‘But sire I would be happy for you to search the premises.’
    ‘No that won’t be necessary, but the fact that Argus is out brings suspicion upon your shoulders lad. I advise that you put him back in the stables.’ Disappointed, Sordy retreats, men at arm length follow, some disinterested, while others glance henries way for the last time before proceeding to other likely spots Malinda frequents.
    Ten minutes pass, he calms Argus before he opens the trap door made for malinda. ‘It is safe to come out now. I hope you’re happy with your self, whatever it is they want you for must be mighty important, and then there is that banquet tonight. I just don’t know what you on about milady. It would be a relief if you did not involve me so frequently.’
    Brushing straws from her hair she reemerges from her hide hole. ‘Again thank you.’ Brushing away more dust, she restores some dignity for the moment. ‘I trust Argus is ready now.’ A smile beams at Henry, bringing out the most melting gaze.
    Blushing once again, Henry stumbles for words. ‘But what about tonight, what exactly are your intentions.’ A look of longing makes his face repress a smile of his own.
    ‘I should think it be none of your business. But I am grateful I don’t have to stand for Welcolin’s impudence again.’ Mounting Argus she mutters. ‘Or that bitch Salina.’
    ‘Beg pardon.’ Henry scratches his oily hair, straitening out his rumpled shirt.
    ‘No nothing. I’ll just be on my way then.’ Reaching out for the rains, Malinda scratches Argus’ muzzle.
    ‘NO Milday. I will, I will not let you.’ Heaving in and out, his heart starts racing as he countermands Malinda by taking the rains.
    ‘What are you doing, damn it henry. Don’t you get it yet? This banquet, do you not know that it is nothing more than a charade? All it’s for is to get me to consent to a suitor. I hate it, it is so degrading, its almost enough for me not to throw up on everyone.’ Anger puckers her face. Even in anger Malinda can do no wrong.
    ‘I, I am sorry I did not know. I am but the stable boy milady. I am not informed of court gossip, beneath even the cooks or servant maids. It hurts sometimes.’ He slackens his hold on the rains, then an idea pops into his little head. ‘I can, I can’t let you go milady, I’m sorry.’ He pauses. ‘But if I come with you than its alright isn’t it. You will than have someone to accompany you and I will not get into trouble then.’ His logic simple in its resolution as his jaw sets stubbornly.
    ‘But henry, I can’t take you. It is noble of you, but you can’t ride a horse. You’re still too young.’ She softens her voce, feeling for the boy’s mistreatment. ‘Besides where I go it’s not safe for little boys like you.’
    ‘Who you calling a little boy. I can so ride a horse.’ As to prove a point he slaps on a ridding hat and brings out Hilton. To Malinda’s surprised curiosity henry mounts the animal in one swift motion. ‘See, I can too ride a horse.’ A bit wobbly, he catches the rains, ushering Hilton to move forwards.
    ‘Wow, I’m impressed. And when have you been learning to ride eh, I’m sure your step mother will disapprove. Besides it isn’t befitting of a lady to be waited on. I must go, catch me if you can.’ Snapping her feet to Argus’ belly, she dashes forward at a brusque pace. To her surprise Henry keeps pace. ‘That’s impressive.’ She shouts. ‘Now the trick is to get past the palace gates, shouldn’t be much of a problem.’
    ‘Very good.’ Henries voice catches her ear. ‘But won’t the gates be closed.’ He replies skeptically.’
    At the fast pace malinda has set herself, she misses the last part. Sordies men immediately spot her and start shouting obscenities, amongst other things. Sordy himself strains to stop her, lurches before Argus. ‘Halt.’ He shouts in desperation, but the obvious signs of rebelliousness from malinda, Sordy dives fast out of Argus’ way. Before too long they have reached the other end of the courtyard and indeed the gates stood open, something momentarily lived. For no sooner had she evaded Sordy he was clamoring to his feet and signaling the gates to be shut tight. Alas it was too late, by the skin of her whiskers malinda escaped the castle grounds, somehow through all of this Henry followed against his better judgment.
    ‘Freedom. At last.’ The breeze sweeps her hair up above her eyes. Malinda pushes her steed forward, unstoppable in her moment of triumph. Destination Syrestree, the dark forests beckon.
    When it is apparent that is exactly the direction Malinda has taken, henry slows Hilton, hesitating momentarily. ‘Milady.’ He shouts after her vainly. ‘That be no place for the likes of us.’ His stomach makes a grumbling protest, but to his dismay Malinda takes no heed to his cautionary calls. Instead ploughs on like the possessed. With a sigh of resignation and a sense of determination, henry gives chase.
    The sun soon sets, extending its final layers of rays, blanketing the land in an orange hue of golden light. On the outskirts of Syrestree, even the sun’s rays have a hard time seeping in. Undeterred malinda, unafraid, takes a well-trodden road, slowing her pace, allowing for henry to catch up. ‘Told you this ain’t no place for you, didn’t I.’ She gloats, but less candidly than before, her own doubts about going any further make her uneasy. Argus sensing this, shudders.
    Henry pulls beside her. ‘Why do you want to go in there. You now syrestree is off limits. Not only do the trees sense our movements but dark elves lives here.’ He remarks cautiously. Jumping off the horse he runs to a nearby bush. ‘Excuse me a moment, all this excitement has loosened my nerves.’ Undoing his belt buckle he proceeds to relive himself, performing toilet duties.
    Averting her eyes from henry in fascination, she too climbs to ground level. ‘Don’t need any permission from me boy, just do what must be done. However I must go and see someone, it is important. Besides I’ve been to syrestree before, its not so bad if you know where you’re going.’ An owl on its perch hoots some distance from them; this makes malindas skin crawl.
    ‘Yeah, but I bet you’ve never been here after dark that’s when everything awakens. My step mom always says if it’s one thing to travel the forests during the day, it’s altogether a different story during the night. All manners of beasts lurk deep within, some even say monsters as strong and agile as berserkers make their dens here. I can personally vouch for that.’ Not at all in awe of Malinda he reproaches her with a sly smile.
    ‘Oh really.’ Instinctively she turns to his direction and rubs his face in a sisterly embrace, which is meant as a form of mockery. ‘How come you’re telling me this now. I bet the first sign of a whisper you’d run back under your mummies skirt and start crying.’
    ‘Would not.’ His face bloats.
    ‘Would too.’ She teases.
    ‘Not.’ Anger distracts his senses.
    ‘Too.’ Malinda shows a rare smile. ‘Don’t worry I’m only joking. Best leave the horse here, don’t want to bring Argus down with a lame foot.’ Taking Argus’ rain she pulls him off the road and ties him down. ‘Be a good boy, I’m sorry you can’t come.’ She looks at him with plain regret. The horse miffed snorts in return.
    Without a word henry does as Malinda, securing Hilton next to Argus. ‘I shouldn’t have come, I knew this was going to be a bad idea.’ He spits in disgust. ‘I’m gonna be in a heap of trouble you know. Not that you’d care, I’ll probably get a good whipping for this, I’m only stalling, being away, post phoning the inevitable really.’
    ‘Oh, really, then why did you come.’ Malinda challenges.
    Scrubbing his eyes, Henry looks at Malinda for a long time before answering. ‘Well, you know. I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t come, what type of a boy would I be. Leaving you to fend for yourself all alone and helpless. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if anything were to happen to you.’ He changes tact.’ Besides whose gonna keep you company. My mommy says it’s awfully bad to travel alone, especially during the dark. Not only that, I bet you forgotten everything again.’ Taking the backpack from Hilton’s side he straps it on.
    She raises her eyebrows. ‘What do you mean forgot everything.’ Fastening her jacket tighter as a chill breeze slides past, she examines his backpack.
    ‘Yeah like this, we need torches, and some food and water. Where you expecting to find that, there’s not an inn for miles, besides we can’t just go in without any weapons.’ He pauses. ‘Besides I’m curious, who is it that you want to see in Syrestree?’
    ‘You are right about one thing.’ As she takes out a torch and sets it alight. ‘We will need torches. How refreshing to see you stock well.’ Taking out a dagger, she tests it, jabbing at thin air. ‘As to who I’m going to see, well it is of little consequence.’ Pocketing the dagger and some rations she takes a few steps towards Syrestree. ‘But I haven’t totally come unprepared you know.’ Malinda unfastens a lethal looking short sword from under her pants side pocket. ‘This is far more effective than the little daggers you’ve brought along, although I’m not complaining.’ A small family crest, like with all her apparel adorns the short sword, a glinting gem, sapphire, etched into the swords hilt, the sharpness surprisingly acute, laced with diamond dust.
    ‘Woah, where did you pilfer that.’ Henry takes a closer look at the short sword. ‘I bet it must have taken careful navigation and cunning. I mean to steal it away, you know how strict LeRounce is.’ A look of awed respect creeps into his voice.
    ‘Oh, it was nothing, more like a parting gift by one of my suitors. Can you believe he actually had the audacity to give this to me as a present? I would have slit his through right there and then if it wasn’t for all the witnesses. But I am thankful, at least they have their uses.’ A ferocious look storms across her face.
    Henry backs away. Knowing what malindas rages are like, they’re like hurricanes waiting to ignite, one wrong move and all thought of rationality just escape her mind. Like a wild child, her tantrums are legendary. ‘So it’s nothing to do with LeRounce.’ He responds mildly. ‘But something is bothering me, if we are to go on foot, isn’t it just an added risk. I mean like its already going to be dusk soon. Don’t get me wrong I like adventures as the next person.’ He backs up derisively. ‘But what are you trying to accomplish here, we should have done this six hours sooner, if at all, but now, who knows what we may encounter. I shudder to think.’ He backs up apprehensively, reassuringly stroking Hilton’s main.
    ‘You should have never come, I told you its no place for boys. If anything you’ll probably impede my progress.’ Unceremoniously she enters the path leading into the forest of syrestree, her pace a little uneven.
    ‘Wait up, I told you, best to stick together. My mum says twos better than one.’ Annoyed at her and himself, he rushes after her, braving the dark and uninviting features of syrestree.

  4. #124
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    Dec 2007


    Ha even the chapter was too many words

    CH 1: B)

    Syrestree, home of the ill reputed dark elves, cast out they have made Syrestree their home. As half cast and half elf alike, many outcasts of all castes take residents in syrestree, mainly as a formidable refuge, a sanctuary against the persecution of their kind. While not uncommon to normal Elwetritsch or commonly know as elf and half elf kind, they have some distinctive differences. The first and most obvious, most if not all have done something in there past lives to be outcast from the greater kingdoms of elves. Second they are not restricted as normal elf kindred to perform good magic. Thus it isn’t uncommon for evil abominations to plague the forests of syrestree, spells and experiments gone terribly wrong.
    The leaves rustle underfoot, the sky completely gone, only their fragile torches remain, provided for any discernable light in the dense forest canopies of trees, shrubs and deadwood. The smell of burning travels the air, thick and distinct. Trees awaken to the intrusion of fire in their domain, horrified, they can only watch as spectators as the two figures move through their foliage.
    ‘What’s that.’ Henry jumps. ‘Did you hear it, please tell me you heard that.’
    ‘Its nothing, probably a mouse or something, come on, this way.’ She shrugs her shoulders, anxious to reach the place of the meeting.’ But then she too hears something and slows her pace down. ‘Quick, hide.’ She whispers, stopping henry in his track.
    ‘What. I told you I heard something.’ Concealing himself behind a dense bush, he extinguishes the torch. Darkness creeps over him. Eyes wide, Henry waits for Malinda to join him. But when she doesn’t he peaks through the underbrush and what he sees astonishes him. A dark elf has Malinda in its embrace, almost like a lover’s hold. Yet Henry thinks it’s a surprise attack for he lurches out of his hiding place, dagger in hand. ‘Let go of malinda or I’ll, I’ll rip yer through out.’ Henry snarls.
    ‘Henry, put that down this instant.’ Malinda squeezes her way out of the dark elf’s embrace and snatches the dagger out of henries astonished hands. ‘Now is that any way to treat a friend.’ Malinda scornfully asks.
    ‘A, a friend.’ Henry responds cautiously. ‘But, but he’s, he’s a dark elf. Dark elves are mean and dangerous. How is he a friend of yours.’ Henry looks at her suspiciously. Less wary, more skeptically, he stands his ground.
    ‘So this is the little Henry I’ve been hearing so much about.’ The dark elf speaks. A deep and stingy sound of voice, broken words, and a southern flavor to the smooth regal pitches in his voice. The slender pointy ears, chipped, an earring loosely hangs from one. The wide and steep eyes, showing the long-lived nature of their kind. With well-worn cloths, a green shirt and pants, an arrow slung round his back, he clutches a fine bow disarmingly to his right hand. While his left held malindas.
    ‘Yes this is Henry. He insisted on coming along, I wish he hadn’t.’ Malinda shakes her head in dismay. ‘Henry I’d like you to meet Darrian. Darrian this is Henry. I hope that you will not be offended. He is only a boy after all.’ She smiles at Darrian with pleading eyes.
    ‘No not at all. It is a bit awkward. I suppose he can come along. No harm in letting him see the treedance is there.’ His right ear twitches as he winks at henry.
    Henry just looks at Darrian, then at Malinda. Too shocked to do anything else. ‘Darrian, but you’re a dark elf.’ Henry mutters in protest as if that should bring some sense into malinda. ‘Dark elves, I have always been taught to watch out for the cunning of dark elves. You’re all dark and evil creatures of the night. I. I should be afraid of you, yet I’m not. There is something strange about you.’ Henry isn’t pleased by the encounter, but neither is he trembling with fear at the sight of him, of which he should, considering the dreams he’s been having of late.
    A look of amusement plays upon darrian’s face. ‘Boo.’ He starts, dropping his bow carelessly. ‘Do I look mean and dangerous. I’m certainly dark.’ He stretches his green shirt, rubbing his ankle. ‘But I tell you I’m no more dangerous than a man is. Even less of a threat drunk, by all accounts you should take a look at your kind before going all accusing without knowing any of the facts lad.’ Bending his knees he reaches for henries hand. ‘But remember it isn’t always color that’s the danger but the mind.’
    Henry retreats slightly still unsure, awed as he is, prejudice runs strong. ‘I, I am sorry. I did not mean to give offence Darrian. Its just that.’ He trails off. ‘I’ve been having these dreams. Nightmares actually, I don’t know specifically what of but dark elves always seem to play a major role and it frightens me.’ He blurts. ‘Not that you frighten me, its just that, well, I don’t know. Why are you here?’ Forcing himself to change the subject.
    ‘A dream.’ Malinda asks curiously. ‘Why haven’t you told me about this, I could have found out what it means.’ She takes the bow in her gloved arms and whispers something private to Darrian before kissing him on the ear affectionately.
    ‘Its nothing.’ Henry discounts. ‘Is he who you wanted to meet with.’ Henry guessed.
    ‘Yes I am lad. I know you must be confused. But there is no need to be alarmed by my presence. I truly mean no harm. Let’s shake on it, that is one of your customs is it not, a shake of bond-ship.’ Hesitantly Henry shakes Darrians hand. ‘There, that wasn’t so bad. See I don’t bite, if you stick around maybe you’ll learn something.’ Darrian shakes enthusiastically.
    ‘Let us get going. Darrian, you shouldn’t sneak up on us like that. Could’ve waited at the den.’ She smiles.
    ‘Too impatient my darling, just too impatient to look into your eyes again. To see your tender arms, to embrace your slender body, to hold you, we do have such little time to ourselves at the best of times. Even now, distraction compels us with a little decorum.’ Darren nods at Henry.
    ‘Oh Darrian, you say the nicest things.’ She smiles. ‘You know I couldn’t come alone during the night, what if some nasty creature came out of the bushes and hurt me.’ Malinda makes a funny face at henry. ‘Besides he’s okay, if it wasn’t for henry, well I would probably never leave the castle grounds. I owe it to him to show what I get up to sometime. Since he surprised me with his riding skills I had no choice.’ Malinda winks.
    Henry makes a face of his own when he sees the affection they have for each other and makes an observation. ‘Are you in love or something.’
    Darrian remains silent for a minute. ‘Sharp wits aren’t you. Nothing goes past you does it.’ Thinking Henries okay with it he grabs malinda close, kissing her passionately, like an unsatisfied drink.
    Distressed he shouts. ‘Stop it. That’s disgusting.’
    ‘Be reasonable Henry.’ Malinda stops kissing Darrian to focus her attention oh Henry. But a silence storms all three as a shrill bird echoes in the murky darkness. ‘What’s that.’
    ‘Danger.’ Darrian dispossesses Malinda of his bow and notches an arrow in haste. Sweeping the woods with his nocturnal vision he ushers for both of them to hide.
    Moments pass, all is quiet. The trees remain still, as if straining to sense somebody or thing. With an annoyed glance, henry rises. ‘There’s nothing to be worried about.’ Trying to be brave and show off before malinda.
    ‘Shh, be quiet and stay down Henry.’ Malinda catches henries arm and pushes him back. ‘Don’t you know what that was, its an alarm of the nightling. There is definite danger I can feel it now.’ She slackens her grip and focuses. ‘Besides Darrian is an expert at these sort of things. If you learnt how bad dark elves are then you will have also learnt what keen eyesight they have. Their night vision is like our day, which is perhaps why we seldom see dark elves during light hours.’
    Lowering his bow, Darren retreats towards them. ‘Ograd troops. By all the gods.’ Cursing he steps between henry and malinda. ‘Can you believe that, here in syrestree. How dare they, to enter our sanctuary, its desecration they want, we’ll be more than accommodating.’ Anger apparent in his tone.
    Malinda worriedly responds. ‘Ograd warriors, here? How is that possible?’
    ‘Shh, my love they fast approach.’ Darrian squeezes her hand.
    ‘What’s an Ograd worrier?’ Henry whispers.
    ‘Not now. Just be quiet and you may yet live to get your answers little one.’ Darrian places a cautionary hand over henry’s mouth. ‘Not even a breath boy.’
    Henry watched in avid fascination. Without warning Ograd warriors start filling the paths before their very eyes on sturdy horseback, while some trailed behind. The sheer size made henry shiver. Some twelve feet ten of sheer height and volume, formidable beings, henry wasn’t about to be captured. Their tawny skin, leaning towards a dark yellow, scales shimmered, even in the dim light that presented could not repress the sense of doom and negative energy they had about them. The first Ograd passed by their hiding place, sniffing the air as if it sensed something, but it passed by unconditionally.
    Malinda tensed as soon as the second Ograd glanced their way, her knuckles going white against Darrians. Its eyes flashed crimson purple. The beast it road was even more disturbing than its occupant, a horse, the size of an elephant. Malinda was unable to take her eyes from the beast’s deep gaze, turning its head, its magnificent eyes transfixed to hers; it snarled a low cry of disdain, other than that kept up the fast pace maintained by the leader.
    After the worriers on horseback filed passed, most of the ground troops followed and henry saw they had tails, that of a reptile, swooping back and forth, as a snake might. Yet that was the least disturbing of all their features. As they trampled the grass, even the earth felt the tremors their impact made. The many ferocious weapons, bow and arrow, swords, maces, axes, pikes and morning stars, it seemed to him they were going off for a fight. Why else wear armor and serious weapons unless they were meant for conflict and soon, he thought.
    As the last warriors vanished, Darrian finally stood from his crouched position to survey the damage they did to the forest. He could feel the forest reeling in shock and pain. ‘It is safe now.’
    ‘What are they?’ henry stretches his arms and joints.
    ‘What indeed.’ Darrian distressingly walks to a clearing, just before the faint road. ‘They are descendants. Much like us if you can give them any merit.’ He curses under his breath. ‘They are an abomination, half troll’s blood and ogre blood.’ Picking up an object off the ground he examines it. ‘Yes you hear correct, fearsome beasts, and the horses they ride, harrnets, don’t fair much better. Theirs is a sorry tail; a union with unicorn and horse blood a special magic that will forever hold them in a mirthless misery. You can sense the ill will they send forth. It’s staunched only to the sickness that follows the Ograd warriors.’
    ‘But what are they doing here?’ Malinda interrupts his train of thought.’ An uneasy answer formulates within her mind. ‘You don’t think?’ Unable to say what most troubles her.
    ‘No, they wouldn’t dare attack us, to anger us would be like a thousand needles scorned. Our elf cousins, for whatever animosity we hold will avenge us if we were to perish. Besides, it’s one thing to attack, but another actually finding us. No I doubt they came for us. But we must make haste and report our findings. I’m sure they will become all too aware, it is difficult for them to conceal their steps. Yet did you see how they sprang upon us, it was almost like magic.’ Darrian mused.
    ‘Yes, we must warn everyone of their presence. We better return henry, this is getting out of control, even for me.’
    ‘Please, don’t go, not yet.’ Darrian turns to her. ‘Such a brief fling, you must stay for the treedance, malinda.’ His eyes send a deep longing into hers.
    ‘This changes everything, I should warn my family. What if there are more Ograd warriors heading this way, or even converging on our palace as we speak. Angus, oh no.’ Malinda covers her eyes. ‘Oh no, I left Angus on the open road and Hilton too.’
    ‘Who is Angus.’ Darrain queries.
    ‘My horse, my poor beautiful horse. They would have captured him.’
    ‘Think positive.’ Henry tries to put on a brave face, but even he can’t under the circumstances. ‘I’m sure they’ll be there. Let us hurry.’
    ‘No.’ Darrian quickly cuts Henry off. ‘It is too dangerous. It is best if we go to our people first and then escort you back to your place. I don’t want to see anything happen to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I left you now.’
    ‘You are right.’ Malindas shoulders ease, her tension almost gone. ‘Lets go to the treedance, perhaps everything will be alright after all.’ A little optimism creeps in.
    ‘Something isn’t right.’ Darrians skin crawls, all his senses put on alert. ‘Danger. Someone approaches.’
    An illness suddenly takes them. For without even a clue seven beings materialize. Their faces hooded in ominous Grey garments. One casts a spell.
    With the brief seconds to make their desperate escape Darrian calls out for all the mercies of his gods to save him before an eternal sleep plunges him into oblivion. Not so for Malinda and henry, instead, they remain transfixed to the ground they stand on, paralyzed, yet unaware, stoned.

  5. #125
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    Dec 2007


    I know a bit swampy, that's nothing. omgosh lol.

  6. #126
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    Dec 2007


    Luckily I'm feeling in a mood to post most of the first chapters of the craziness of the year 02 just for the hell of it.

    This was the first science fiction fantasy story.

    Distance To Nowhere

    Chapter One - Beginning

    The air had a tense atmosphere, which did not feel correct. She knew there was something not quit right, the room seemed good as any room would be. Her sensory partner told her that the room was fixed, and indeed it was. At a closer examination she detected a small bug which was probably the instrument by which they could listen to her every words. Another item by which the viewers saw her is through the small lens connected with the door. This was a deadly game indeed, the technology was impressive but due to her assets she was comfortable enough to show it all off.

    So Conrad it seems you enjoy, these public little rooms. Yes they are cosy aren’t they Sam. Yes I believe these peeping toms should keep to themselves but what can you do. Don’t worry Sam I am used to this kind of activity, besides it gives me a chance to show off my exotic body. He ha yes well don’t get too carried away Conrad, remember the task ahead of us okay. Yes don’t you worry your little microbes now Sam because everything is under control, now goodnight. Indeed, you seem in better spirits, correct we shall assimilate the data for kinetic slumber so we may have energy for tomorrow, but I wonder why you chose this place of all places in this metropolis Conrad. Stop talking and shut up, I’m asleep, turning the orb off.

    Good-morning, we hope our accommodations have been most pleasing. What, oh yes thank you Conrad mumbles to the wake up drone. A crystal orb with an opal eye, its metallic shine and amusing native dialect make it an easy target for offence. Get out of her you micro biotic idiot, I’m trying to get some rest, your invading my private space. As you wish, but remember to tidy up after you leave, also there is a message that has recently come in for you. Should I read it for you? Okay then go crack your circuits and relay this message while I’m still in the mood.

    Message 1:The imperials feel it is necessary that you destroy a planetary shuttle in transit to Earth via Mars as they suspect this cargo is F.A.V. origin.

    Message 2:The F.A.V. feel it is necessary that the information about the origin of light be collected, destination earth at 0100 hours.

    All right then get out of here, I need my beauty sleep. The android glides gracefully out through the door while Sam kick starts his micro technology inside Conrad for another day. So what will you do Conrad, how can you destroy the ship and at the same time retrieve the information you desire for the coordinates of the source of light. Simple Sam, very simple, indeed. All I need to do is be there, receive the information I desire and after that I become the renegade offender and destroy the shuttle once in orbit after their mission is completed.

    That is very cunning and deceptive but by my calculations you should pull it off with flying colours, after all that is what your occupation is all about. Yes, thanks for that compliment Sam but flattery isn’t going to get us anywhere is it, I just hope that all is going according to plan. This room is perfect for my operation as it is here where I prepare my assault on both sides, while the spies seek as much information as possible.

    Now I understand this room is Assassins territory, am I correct in deducting that you will require their help, but in a more tact-full and cunning way. Yes my little brain inside my brain, what will I ever do without you, ha he ha, yes well lets get on it we have all morning to investigate this dump of a planet Earth. I must object this planet is actually a very cultured and refined place since last time we were here. It must be commented that their progress is outstanding and they have just recently won the nebula noble prize of the century which is a high achievement indeed. So please a little respect is due, besides this is the only place I can stimulate my brain with the exotic drug nicotine and venom as these charge my senses and make me feel like I can do everything.

    Due to her recent credit update of two point five million credits Conrad is ready to stock up with all the items she needs for this trip. Leaving her room, she decides to look around for any bargains in the galactic mall, but first she needs to equip herself with an atomic rifle and a nerve gas for extra caution. Walking across the dinning hall a small grunt, short rough stubby little creature bread for service in the hospitality trade, stumbles over Conrad. Sorry, pardon me, excuse my clumsiness please, I am very sorry Ms, are you okay.

    That is perfectly understandable but I must be going now, bye. In the still relatively dark streets at 6am, Conrad double-tracks towards the National Park which grounders call The Gallery.

    In a secret location hidden behind tall palm trees awaits her ship. Her ship is cloaked so nobody can detect it or appear out of the ordinary. As with any other mercenary her ship is illegal on most planets as the “INTRUDER”, her beloved ship possesses potential nuclear warheads, which are an offence and are in violation of the galactic trade laws. Conrad telepathically linked with Sam opens the door of the ship and enters into the invisible space before them. As they enter, the shuttle shuts behind them and is invisible once again to the outside world.

    Inside her ship, greets a familiar voice. Welcome back imperial vex mistress, you are in violation of code two of vex commonality, please state your business. Shut up you good for nothing biotic bitch, you keep getting up my fucking nose don’t you. For your information I got an e-mail to intercept a shuttle approaching this area and I’m getting prepared so no interruptions occur, I’m getting my trusty atomic rifle and some gas, so shove it up your binary digits okay. No need to be rude Conrad I’m here to remind you not to violate our laws in case mutiny occurs.

    Mutiny, my foot, keep bugging me and I will mutiny, but you will be the first to go, got that microchip. Very well I shall process this to my superiors and keep in mind you have today to complete your task. Okay then I’m out of your sight, open the door M.A.L (Matrix Language Operator), goodbye and good riddance. Damn that good for nothing chip in my otherwise beautiful “INTRUDER”. Yes we will need to dismantle that error in programming, it is a constant annoyance being reminded of the vex order.

    Anyhow that chip is not going to spoil this trip, let’s go and get us some hardware Sam (no response), Sam are you okay, Sam. What the hell is going on, Sam, answer me, please. Ugh, what a jolt, sorry for frightening you like that Conrad, but someone was trying to control my inner processes. We better enter that market fast before it attacks me again, or you Conrad, it’s very close by. Never have I been affected like this before. Okay Sam, were nearly there, running at a brisk pace Conrad and Sam reach the galactic markets.

    This place is a flutter of excitement. A huge banister with the sign “all are welcome to this years galactic fair” written in golden ink is raised overhead. In one corner a shifty character with an even shiftier shop squints at Conrad in recognition. The floor a dark purple pavement offsets with the dim lighted shops and taverns scattered around the place. The different types of beings in this area seem endless. The tall dark natives look extraordinary by comparison to the rest of the aliens scattered around this place. A couple of vex patrols are shifting in the crowds, while a grog, tasteless grey in colour and the size of an elephant, is sluggishly moving across the great lawns to and from one place to the next in a drunken manner.

    The Elf folk seem to be in a temperamental state as the Troll argues about the item in question. Other beings in this vast maze of shops are the Marauders who hate everything and leave a depressive atmosphere around them. The Simpletons seem to be in a passive mood as they browse around the fair. Another unusual group of aliens, are the grey masculine medium high bulbous eyed Critters who normally reside in darkness not being accustomed to excess light.

    Enough dangling around and watching the passers by, let’s go and get us some booty. Okay first of all we need a couple of dresses to make me look presentable. There, that store around the corner looks perfect. Which one is that, you realise I can’t read your thoughts or visualise your action so describe where. Okay you fussy brain, the one next to the shifty eyed character. Walking towards the place a tall oriental grounder stops Conrad. Excuse me sir, but you seem to be violating my air space, so be kind enough to remove yourself. No, you listen, grave danger, big man - small man very near, here, take this letter please. Conrad takes the letter in haste and is about to question the oriental but it seems he is talking too fast to even interrupt him.

    It contains the declaration of the fifteenth man in the service of the Mandrake family. Please you woman of many talents, you must help me, I have already forfeited my life. My name is Daniel Lee of the Lee Circuit; this letter is vital for our independence. Master Low Wong is after me, please you must trust me, this is my final word, You are in grave danger, location zed 0023, gamma zone. Suddenly Daniel starts gasping for breath. In painful last gulps he falls down and dies on the spot in a shrivelled heap of flesh and bone. The midget workers, alerted by the scene quickly clean up, taking the body for latter consumption.

    In distress Conrad flees the scene from an obvious murder. Sam what do you make of all this. It seems this oriental grounder was genuine, but I must admit the death is a mystery. If I could examine the body I might be able to fix his internal systems, theoretically we could revive him. It is possible to revive him if we can encase his brain in a chromium-plated dish and replicate his internal system. We must hurry or he will truly perish. Great, now he tells me, hell. Okay lets see Sam can you trace the heat sources of those midgets or better yet, the body. Yes it’s possible for me to track his body heat. All right then get cracking and direct me, now Sam, after all time is limited. Okay then, lets start back at the intergalactic mall, then turn right, after that you should go left then another hundred meters east. Okay lets do it.

    Frantically she starts running in the direction Sam spoke of, turning a slow right then a hard turn left, she passes a research centre, entering a relatively dark creepy corridor facing east, now what Sam. Yes the heat seems stronger now keep going forward until the very end, then another turn going to the left going up a building you should see a bridge going north, then go forward. Conrad cautiously walks forward past the dark corridor to a dead end. There seems to be no exit, Sam. There must be, smash a hole towards the left of you, has to be a hologram.

    Sure enough, Conrad runs through a hologram onto a flight of dark marbled steps leading upwards in a spiral. Racing upwards she nearly trips over a wire just before crossing to a room adjacent to the bridge in the distance. An alarm, better be careful. Slowly avoiding the trap, Conrad starts running towards the bridge, crossing it in a cat like fashion. Across on the other side, another apparent dead-end.

    Placing her hand north through a wall presents yet another hologram. Slowly she walks through the fake wall into a dimly lit room. My sensors are picking up large quantities of body heat; round the side of this room, Conrad do be careful, it could get dangerous. Sam why do you think I brought the nerve, gas. Reaching for her gas bomb, she pulls on a cord to release the trigger mechanism. Running at a furious pace, turning the corner bewildered midgets scramble to stop this intrusion of their domain.

    Before anyone of them could raise a finger Conrad throws the bomb towards them; a sudden flash of light revels Mr Daniel Lee slumped in one corner. Gas seeps throughout the room. Suddenly screams of pain and anguish escape the midget’s voices. In spastic conditions the midgets crawl a sound retreat, wiggling their way to a clean room for recovery.

    While confusion consumes the minute, Conrad rushes over to Daniel, pulling him to one side, dismantling his head from the rest of his body she orders the Intruder to beam them up, sending the coordinates via her brain waives telepathically. A fuzzy light locks onto the due and starts making the transition from ground to ship.

    On board the Intruder Conrad takes the severed head with sever blood lose and quickly hooks up Daniel to the bothersome chips life support system, upon Sam’s instructions of urgency. Stop Conrad, what are you doing, this is an illegal action, you must cease or I, I, I will destroy… good, should have done that a long time ago, the vex microchip has been disconnected, in it’s place resides an unconscious Daniel.

    Quickly bringing in a chromium plated container; Conrad hooks Daniel up to it and starts pumping diluted liquids and pure refined oxygen upon Sam’s instructions. Okay Sam it’s done, with a sigh of relief she wipes her sweaty forehead. Do you think you can fix him Sam? I really don’t know, he lost sever amounts of blood, he might revive, it’s just that he needs oxygen in his brain and he lost a fair amount. You should go and meet your message carrier, but first you should down load me to the hard drive so I can monitor his progress.

    Okay, turning around to the main console of her ship Conrad pulls open the memory compartment of her controls. Pulling back her hair, on one side of the neck a small dent is visible. Conrad grabs the wire connecting the memory and plugs it into her neck. Suddenly a faint pulsating noise occurs. A couple of nanoseconds later she unplugs herself from the memory compartment. Sam appears on one of the ship's monitors.

    A dark configuration looms, a slim essence of a face processed through the computers image processor of suitable input, Sam seems to enjoy his new establishment and is grinning at Conrad in delight of his new surroundings. Okay Conrad, it seems Daniel is in a stable condition, but he is still in a critical state. Conrad, good luck, I hope everything turns out well, without any confrontations.

    Approaching the docks, unaided by Sam at one o’clock, Conrad looks around for the carrier. All sorts of ships line the spaceport. The Port has all sorts of aircraft, with an exhibition of new technology. It really is something special. The Tie fighter and the Condor 376 on display and the greatest achievement in alien history, the new super Mammoth 2000. Capable of pulling a full-scale planet, able to carry small sized moons in its loader, it seems to be the ultimate in transportation technology. It is an amazing feat in the human history of bold and massive proportions.

    The size is so daunting, being one of the very first things you see up in the sky blocking the sun and casting an enormous shadow upon the airfield. Unfortunately it is only restricted to this Solar system as the technology to teleport such a mass is next to impossible. There is however one aircraft which immediately caught my attention apart from the Mammoth 2000, the tiny yet very tricky and versatile Starburst Comet Tie prototype. State of the art cloaking devices with the toughest armour built in. Its practically invulnerable as it is made from the same stuff the Vex make their imperial drones from.

    Scanning the area Conrad spots an unusual looking shuttle, decorated in the common F.A.V emblem, an octagon with endless arrays of dotes entering a circle of light, upon which sits a mythical creature the Humanoids call the Golden Dragon emerging from the days of the Asian Era. Conrad approaches to the area of the F.A.V federation at exactly one PM with a couple of nanoseconds to spare. Good evening, gentlemen Conrad remarks to the nearest people associated with the F.A.V aircraft. I believe you have a message concerning the location of the now mythical beings in the Bermuda system.

    State your name or be evicted from this quadrant. I am Conrad of the space craft know as the Intruder, so get on with it and tell me the Information I need. Taking out an automatic scanner, the dark fellow immediately does a body scan to confirm to his relief that I am who I claim to be? Here, take this laptop, all you need to know is in memory and besides Sam can decode and process all the information for you. You must leave quickly, even as we speak a tracer is following us, we need to evacuate this quadrant, but our mission is completed, hopefully the journey back will not be dangerous as we fear it might be.

    Heading back to the Intruder Conrad looks back one last time to see the large Mammoth being pulled away in orbit for its first trip from Earth to Saturn. Well that was easy, sure beats the vex having me as their spy for once. Then suddenly a huge explosion erupts from the direction of the F.A.V ship. Wow, a huge mushroom cloud forms above in the sky as I am just entering the Intruder.

    Closing the hatch quickly I start ascending upwards as fast as possible to get away from the outburst of radiation to follow. Well that saved me from killing their shuttle, man that was damn close. Suddenly with a burst of inspiration before she could even stop herself Conrad descends back towards the spaceport to pick up the Starburst Comet Tie prototype, pushing the button to shield her ship from radiation.

    The Comet being a one man aircraft it was fairly easy to pick it up and decontaminate it. Once the Comet was on board Conrad quickly swerved up into the space to steer clear of all that hostile confusion and radiation. Once Conrad reaches space and safety, she quickly checks that all systems are operation and that no radiation is present in the air.

    Then she sighs and immediately slumps to the floor in utter relief and exhaustion. What is going, on Conrad, you seem to have stolen a new stealth craft and in the process nearly got yourself and poor Daniel here contaminated with radiation from that unexpected blast. What the Hell is going on? Your guess is as good as mine Sam. I went and got the message then for the last time I admired the Mammoth, and just before entering the shuttle a huge explosion erupted out of nowhere.

  7. #127
    Senior Member Array Synapse's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2007


    This was my pseudo sci fi fantasy esoteric story

    Celestial Tempest

    Part One - Dislocation

    Chapter One (A) - Children of the Highlands

    When the very young shall touch the sky, no human will be disallowed to bear that which is farthest from reach.

    ‘Krystal, where are you?’ Malcolm uttered annoyed at himself. Only if he were more vigilant none of this would have mattered, yet Krystal had vanished right before his incantation.
    ‘How could this have occurred, I’m sure I used the proper proportions of basil and lavender to compound the appropriate spirits, this is very serious indeed’, slight trickles of sweat corrugated down his neckline as Malcolm pondered how to return Krystal to her original place.
    Malcolm moved away from the boiling pot and walked to his personal library of books. Shifting through the pile of lavish novels and other more advanced sets he came across one that would do the trick. A volume in the arts of reappearance, dedicated to Andrea Romuldon.
    ‘Yes this may well do the trick’ quickly Malcolm skimmed through the contents until he found the correct passages to read.
    ‘Rumbulus Cafernicus let your will return that which has disappeared, deliver that which needs to remain, forgive and forget the small and infinite trivialities of the realm that knows no better and release that which has been transmitted’. After repeating the incantation for several more times a miasma, cloud like substance seeps into the room. An apparition totally unlike Krystal perforated before his very eyes; he was not at all pleased.
    ‘What you call Cafernicus for, me not like awakenings no more, me mad if I must do thy bidding’
    ‘Frightfully sorry um, Cafernuicus but you see I seemed to have lost a person named Krystal. I thought that this incantation would get her back instead you appear, my apologies in advance of any inconveniences to you sir’
    The apparition a class six vilification, a creature from the underworld that performs many tasks in assisting its summoner.

    Its bulbous eyes resembling that of the late fly, webbed feet and a body of a bear can at times be quite intimidating if not properly protected. That is why Malcolm always constructs a barrier to protect himself from unwanted negative vibrations such as this apparition. When one frequents in experimentation, one never knows what or whom one shall conjure or summon up therefore for any would be beginner it is imperative that such protection be construed. For more advanced intermediaries advanced protection is necessary for some of the more powerful deities on the other side of the lens can breach protection spells and actually takes control of the summoner.
    ‘Is that what all this annoyance is about right then I’m off’. ’But wait, what about Krystal’, Cafernicus laughs as he disappears in his wake a small individual remains. Huddled and scared the individual dashes towards Malcolm, Malcolm relieved in turn opens his arm to hug the form.
    ‘Krystal, thank the gods your safe’ a sweat drenched Malcolm exclaimed.
    Krystal a young girl with exceptional talent, has quickly progressed from novice to acolyte in a matter of weeks, indeed her ability is uncanny and at times disturbing. Her features, bright beige eyes with a cute undercut face, her long lustrous golden hair complementing her youthful appearance and innocence. Her slender body not yet developed certainly has style; graceful in manner and polite to most individuals Krystal is a perfectly attuned female that has so far outstanding promise to surpass her mentor and trainer, Malcolm in nearly all facets of magi theosophy.
    ‘I’m fine’ a tiny voice mutters back.
    ‘It’s nothing really, you must have accidentally sent me to another realm it was...most bizarre’ Krystal breaths delicately.
    ‘Not to worry’
    ‘Not to worry your little brain over it’s all over now’
    ‘Yes it is’
    ‘So what was it like if its not too much trouble’, Malcolm said in excitement.
    ‘Well its not really your business, but it was unusual, not many people travel beyond the lens do they?’
    ‘Wait a minute’
    ‘Did you say beyond the lens?’
    ‘But there is nothing beyond the lens’
    The lens is a place that magical forces traverse through, the body of a magus enters into a trance like state and enters a state of astral projection. Astral projection refers to when an individual visualizes themselves out of body and thus they are. For there are many unseen forces in the lens that normal people are completely unaware, it’s from this place that many people gain higher meaning and knowledge. It’s sometimes a haven for spirits and deceased masters who teach people the art of magical practice upon the Ethron State. It’s not uncommon for people to come back in such awe of the many different sentient beings from the lens that they dedicate their whole lives worshiping and erecting statues in representing them as gods.
    These masters then teach pupils their lore and formulate many differing philosophies and consequently many occult religious movements have occurred. There are many other levels to the astral plane where many openings remain for enlightenment and knowledge of past in a storage facility called the Akish library. This amazing place if a person is able to access it and very few manage to locate it, is an invaluable reference source. It has every thought ever thought every type of knowledge, philosophy and theosophy from previous pasts, from previous present tenses and from future futures.
    One only needs to go there and know what to learn and knowledge will be presented before that individual. Some Ethron born masters of the magus order have purportedly accessed this wellspring of knowledge, but the trouble was there was no way of bringing it back to earth and one needed it to be dictated. Thus special masters come into play, which dictate only what they want for them to be worshiped and glorified.
    ‘Yes there is and I can prove it too, here’
    Krystal presents an unusual object. The surface coated in a smooth velvet sheen was unlike any object know on Ethron. For Ethron was the new name given to Earth, meaning Northern Earth, for it is in the Northern Hemisphere from which the first people emerged to survive the terrors that occurred the pre apocalyptic age.
    The object upon closer examination seemed not to have any substance yet Krystal was able to hold it in place, its like a ghost, a shadow has been dislodged from some different dimension, captured and reemerged upon Ethron soil. It was more like a velvet gas rather than an object that clung to the palm of Krystal’s right hand.
    ‘This is quite remarkable’
    ‘Yep, it was a scary ordeal, perhaps the strangest sensation of my meager life span’
    ‘What was’ inquired Malcolm.
    ‘Well, drifting beyond the lens and entering this strange new dimension, it suddenly opened before me, it was like in those horror novels. I managed to be brave and traversed in this place that was there but wasn’t, I was afraid because it was like I really wasn’t there, I mean I felt this place unlike in the lens. I was a part of it, I was totally aware of the space yet my senses abandoned me. Do you ever imagine how it’s like when you’re without sight, touch and sound, well it was freaky in that respect’
    ‘Freaky, what do you mean’ interposed Malcolm.
    Krystal repeated, ‘Well in a sense I was deprived of my senses and I drifted aware of my surroundings and environment but not really being there in the spiritual sense’
    ‘That’s not possible, we all travel through the lens in an astral projected state’
    ‘Yes but this was totally different, I was aware not of the lens but of different presence’s, scary when my senses deserted me. When I was in that state, that dimensional projection I drifted, floated instead of visualizing myself to move round the different locations as we do through the lens. It was like I was thrown into a pool of water yet I was unable to surface, it was not life suffocation but dark and black, as if there was nothing there. I was in such a panicked state that I thrashed and tried to locate a point on which I could focus on like you taught me but there was nothing to focus onto.’
    ‘This is INCREDIBLE, I am so sorry Krystal that you had to suffer such an ordeal because of me’ Malcolm replied remorsefully.
    ‘No Malcolm that’s just it I didn’t suffer, it might be compared to a baby still inside a womb, dark and cozy, aware yet unaware of the outside, it was familiar somehow. Yet I get an ebbing feeling that other presence were there aware of me. That was the scary part after I overcame my discomfort and strangeness of the situation. I started panicking once I remained there for an extended period of time.’
    ‘So How did you manage to bring this object back’ Malcolm queried in the process of placing it into a jar.
    ‘I don’t know it just latched onto me, like a beacon sending out a signal to a ship during the night, I too must have attracted this object. I only became aware of it once an apparition smote me back to reality.’
    ‘But it just doesn’t make sense Krystal. For a normal projection ones mortal body remains on Ethron and the spiritual essence enters the lens through astral projection. How did we mange to send your entire body away into such an unaware yet aware state of being without entering the lens aspect.’
    ‘Yes I do realize this too, how was my body transported to that strange place. I know I wasn’t in spirit compared to the astral projection towards the lens plane. My whole body was there, maybe I was inside a cave or another part of Ethron, but then I would have felt and heard myself. I know that sight was restricted but if truly I was on Ethron my eyesight would have adjusted and certainly I could have seen something familiar, maybe not if was in a heart of a cave but still. Could I have entered a higher level of the lens state that only masters ever delve to, an undiscovered dimension, maybe even another universe.’
    ‘No Krystal, not another universe, but definitely not of Ethron origin, for if it were then that apparition that was sent after you would have come up with trumps and I would still be fretting over you.’
    ‘Get some rest Krystal, I’ll go have an audience with Master Hypertheos, he might shed some light even provide some invaluable council on the situation how best to pursue or disown this phenomenon.’
    ‘Okay Malcolm, I hope its not serious, bye’ Krystal gestures with a wave of her hands.
    Malcolm replays the past disturbing events in his head once again and resolves to try the operation on himself right after an audience with Master Hypertheos’s council.

    Master Hypertheos is not a being of Ethron. For Ethron is the physical manifestation of being. Master Hypertheos on the other hand resides in the plains of the lens. Before Malcolm Green is able to enter the lens he needs to enter a place of quite and restitution. For usually one needs to meditate for a long time before one can project and visualize oneself through astral projecting to the lens state. Immense concentration is required for if a person is feeling negative, depressed or bad vibrations the astral projection will not work. One needs to calm down and accept the flow of events and see themselves outside of their body, in essence their spiritual selves to be successful.
    Malcolm enters his living quarters. A simple hut in which a bed made from beads resides, straws covering the bottom half, then beads woven in place with some vines. The walls virtually bear represent the simplistic life that has emerged. A desk carved crudely sits in one corner while the other resides his small bookshelf made from mud reinforced with straw to make it sturdy, so too the hut is a simple mud straw design.
    The main center of experimentation, which he calls the monastery for higher intelligence, is far more grandly represented than his shabby little hut. It is the place he has just exited from where the strange Krystal phenomenon had occurred. The monastery a lavish design in the latent Greek architectural style has been situated upon Gulf Peak, simply to rise above many of the surrounding residences, but for a more mystic and divine reason. It is believed that once a magical entity was mortally wounded atop that peak and is buried deep within Ethron’s crust.
    There have been shards of evidence that mythical beings once roamed these lands tens of millions of years, before any great civilization took stock and root upon fertile Ethron. In the newly developed legends that have been uncovered both through hidden masters pointing to physical locations and through intrepid fables one thing is clear to the people of today, that indeed entities of power ones roamed freely on Ethron. Some believe that a catastrophe as in lieu of human catastrophe only too recently had occurred.
    There are those mystics upon the world that believe that those entities are still dwelling upon Ethron, in deep crevices, dormant waiting to be awakened and roam the plains of Kishmail once again. Other mystics believe these magical entities of power left Ethron to other systems of stars because unknown forces diminished and plagued their existences and their mortality rate grew to genocidal proportions.
    Thus the Monastery epitomizes a significant powerhouse because not only is it a center of magical and theosophical learning, it also represents a place that people can seek wisdom beyond ones years. For the monastery has a special fountain trickling from below ground that purportedly increases ones wisdom, comprehension and be knowledgeable in many things. It is revered as a holy place that many people visit and already is one of the few new wonders of this world to be Ethron.
    Right now Malcolm Green needs to concentrate and get down to business, so he took off all his clothing then entered the comfort of the bed. In bed Malcolm closes his slim eyes and starts breathing in a rhythmic motion, almost hypnotic state to enter a transcendental state of spirit. In a matter of minutes due to his continual ascendancy to spirit he enters the lens plane.
    The lens plane is a normal state remaining in a deeply trancedential state so too the spiritual essence is placid and free to roam as if it were a normal entity. There is no difference, the only aspect that is quite remarkable is that normal physical entities are unaware of spiritual presences, perhaps the only way they may realize there is something strange going on is when a slight chill or a faster breeze catapults through physical beings.

  8. #128
    Senior Member Array Synapse's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2007


    Hahah why do I get the feeling I'm going to have to split another after this.

    CH 1 (B)

    The spiritual self of Malcolm Green as per normal physical state walks around his room, aware of his surroundings and thinking where his master might be. For sometimes in the realm of the lens, it is difficult to locate desired entities. Masters are difficult to locate at first, and when one stumbles upon one such as Malcolm did it means one of two things, it was fate or sheer dumb luck. After an encounter one never forgets the residual trail left behind, thus after an experience the individual is able to contact and enter the other desired persons spiritual space.
    Sometimes as often is the case, especially with hidden masters such as Hypertheos, they mask their psychic trails and make it difficult for novice seekers to locate and communicate with them. Malcolm is a Master journeyman thus quite capable and equipped with the appropriate skills to track down Hypertheos even if masked. Thus in the space of to breadths of a second Malcolm transports himself to Hypertheos’s domain, location of residence.
    For the advantage of the lens state is that spirits have no limits of travel destination and can jump to any location desired on Ethron even beyond if the person has enough aptitude to venture beyond ones own domain. For there are many restrictions upon the physical person, such as gravity and speed, but the lens state is a wholly different matter. The only problem is one needs to know where they want to go and visualize it in order to remerge in the desired location.
    Malcolm is very proficient in such matters and has at one point managed to enter the domain of Jupiter many billions of miles away from Ethron. There is great peril in doing something as extraordinary as that, for one to enter other planetary domains one needs to prepare their state of physical well being. Sometimes it is ponderously difficult to break the trail off from such great distances and return to the physical universe. For unlike travel upon Ethron where reentering ones body is instantaneous it is a wholly different issue above Ethron’s orbit.
    For a spirit needs to pass the ozone layer, the 3 newly formed heaven layers and then force ones self to enter the field of the next planetary domain and its associated layers. Such endeavors can take days and quite deplete ones mental state and leave, thus ones physical body could die due to such prolonged escapism, out of body experience. Luckily few people have ever done such a feat in the newly short history of spiredom – spiritual freedom movement.
    There are other more sinister problems in the realm of the lens. Unlike the normal physical state, in the Lens State ones spirit is the real raw deal. The spiritual essence that is extruded upon the lens plane is vulnerable and the final transcendental state after death. Such a state poses problems because apart from hidden masters and normal human apparitions of deceased beings and animals spirits other entities roam the spiritual state.
    Entities such as angles and demons are quite frequent when one becomes a proficient lens user such as Malcolm have, but it is rare for untalented individuals to witness anything more than other human ghosts and animal spirits. But when one frequents the lens their awareness of the plain gradually increases of other domains. There is confusion as to how many different levels there are to the lens plane, so far five levels have been verified. There is the human, animal, angle, demon and jani level. Some believe there are seven more levels, twelve in all.
    For novices whose awarenesses are not developed enough demons and janies are attracted to them like flies to garbage. Because in such vulnerable spiritual states novice practitioners are easily possessed thus at times the experience of the lens state brings back not the same spirit resident in ones own body but a demon or jani, a relative of demons. Sometimes such experiences leave the person in a disoriented state and twisted, quite mad and insane in behavior. For the spirits of demons and janies are not fit for human form thus the body is unable to accept such spirits thus may unpredictable things occur.
    Some bodies reject the possessors and turn to zombie status, others simply run into woodlands and live like beasts, others drown, and others still commit various forms of suicide. It’s possible to revive the deprived spirit and banish the demon within, but it needs to be done within a week or then it’s a lost cause. There have never actually been any successful demon, jani possessions but one can never tell. Angles never possess anyone.
    The surroundings looked familiar, a musty color presided in the place of appearance. Malcolm Green was greeted with an angry stare; Hypertheos was not pleased to have Malcolm invade his personal time. Hypertheos was a man once who in spiritual form like all residences of the lens had no definite shape or form, yet a unique iridescent light that varied in intensity. Hypertheos has a particularly strong light surrounding him, his presence imposes one of quirky unease and apprehension at meeting and being before him.
    ‘Malcolm I must be going now, you do realize you have upset me far more than you will ever comprehend. Did I not specifically tell you that during times of masking I must not ever be disturbed or found, well didn’t I?’
    ‘Yes Master, but this is important if you will only listen to my reasons.’
    ‘Okay what is it now Malcolm’ a ruffled Hypertheos responds.
    With a degree of hesitation Malcolm recounts in details the experiences of Krystal, explaining the bizarre circumstances and what it could all mean. After the tail Malcolm stops and waits for Hypertheos’s response.
    ‘Hmm, very intriguing, what you say has merit. You say that her body was transported to this dislocated location?’
    ‘Yes Master Hypertheos, I believe that somehow my incantation triggered some strange phenomenon and opened a rift to another dimension’
    ‘Perhaps, but it still doesn’t explain much. I only know of the lens and the surrounding environment. The place of which you describe is not a part of the lens astral state. I’m afraid that it isn’t possible for me to assist you in such a matter, it is beyond my spiritual capacity to travail from here to physical reality’
    ‘Yes I understand but I thought that you might have in your extensive travels of the old and new have some clue towards the place that Krystal vanished towards’
    ‘No’, sighs Hypertheos
    ‘That’s right Malcolm I can’t help you, for I know little more of your physical plane than you do. All that I see and know is purely by observance and frankly watching the goings on of you people bores me to death. Although there was a time when activity was increased a hundred fold in comparison to now. I must warn you though that if you plan to investigate this phenomenon you must be prepared.’
    ‘Is there something deeper that you’re no letting on Hypertheos.’
    ‘No not at all my pupil, its just that knowing you I am certain that you won’t rest until you uncover whatever it is that is troubling you’
    ‘Surly there must be something of this strange place, perhaps in the Akish library, someone has been there before’
    ‘I don’t know Malcolm, the library is beyond my domain, I hardly use it, I’m not powerful enough to access it myself although I do know a friend of a friend who could help you find it’, Hypertheos said slyly.
    ‘What and you tell me this now’
    ‘Surly you must realize that the Akish library is not a place for the still living and you are such a one’
    ‘Come Hypertheos, you tell me who your other friends are and we’ll call it even’
    ‘Yeah that’s right, you’re probably too lazy to get out of your little humble abode’
    ‘WHAT. Are you implying that out of the many years that you have come to me that nothing I taught you had any merit? That all my teachings, guidance and wisdom was for naught. If so I’ll be the son of a King if you ever see me again.’
    ‘No, no, it’s not that it’s just that I was so hopeful that in your implied wisdom you might have encountered such a phenomenon.’
    ‘Malcolm your presence is not wanted, you irritate me sorely. I don’t know where or what it is that you have managed to do, to send Krystal in a different place but I can’t help.’
    ‘Can’t or won’t are two different sides to the arguments’
    ‘You know as well as I do that you crap on more than you let on. You’re able to access the Akish library; it’s just that you can’t be bothered right now. All you want is for me to get the hell away from here so you can resume whatever you were doing.’
    ‘Okay, okay at least tell me these friends of yours and where I can find them.’
    ‘Well I can’t reveal any other hidden masters now can I it would go against all my principals as a hidden master, I have ethics too you know.’
    ‘COME ON ALREADY, this isn’t funny you know.’
    ‘Of Course not, I simply won’t let you be influenced by other hidden masters than your perspective will be skewed. What then all my guidance and careful preparations will be wasted.’
    ‘Preparations, for what?’
    ‘I am unable to disclose that information at this time, you’re still not ready.’
    ‘Ready for what Master Hypertheos?’
    ‘Come now trying to woe me like that, speaking reverence after your little angry outburst, tut tut.’
    ‘Yeah alright then, I’ll remain ignorant of the fact that I’m still not ready for whatever scheme lies in wait but I must know how to enter the Akish library. I want to know what Krystal went through. In fact I must know what it is and where it is, I want to know and you can tell me.’
    ‘I refuse.’
    ‘Okay look Hypertheos, how bout I introduce Krystal as your pupil and then you tell me your friends, a name is all it takes.’
    ‘What, you insult me, after all these years together you want to replace yourself with an inexperienced wench.’
    ‘No, no she’s extremely bright, besides she’s already advanced to the junior initiation stage to matriculated magi. Besides after the past months your philosophy has rubbed off on her. Hanging around me I taught her some of your teachings and she seems far more in tune with what you teach than I have ever been.’
    ‘Hmm, this is most impromptu Malcolm. I must think this over.’
    ‘Awe come on, let me teach her to find you and see how good she is for yourself, assess her and you will be surprised.’
    ‘If you believe that she will be better suited towards my wisdom than yourself I might consider it only after I have examined her until then you get nothing from me. I am disappointed but I should have expected you’re defection.’
    ‘Defection, who’s defecting, all I want is a chance to find where the Akish library is and then learn where and what this mysterious place is, its that simple. What do you do but complicate the matter by being uncooperative and instead sulk as if I’ve hurt your non existent feelings.’
    ‘But you have Malcolm, you’ve hurt my feelings of bond-ship, it’s a spiritual bond that becomes intricately woven as two spirits interact with each other all the time. Its like when two lovers come together in communion so too we bond.’
    ‘Ugh, really and you tell me this now also, well that’s why Krystal’s perfect for you, you’ll bond with her far more than you have with me, besides she has a better aptitude for this than me you’ll see.’
    ‘Well okay I suppose it won’t hurt too much but you must bring her here where we are.’
    ‘What, but its too far away, Krystal isn’t ready to travel such a long distance.’
    ‘Well then you shall have to teach her now won’t you, besides I’m in an important what you would call experiment and I’m unable to move to your residence, stiff luck I’m afraid.’
    ‘That’ll take another month, jeez.’
    ‘No Krystal, no name, no name no Akish library Malcolm, now shoo you’ve disturbed me long enough.’
    ‘Okay Hypertheos, after all you’re the master, I’ll comply and teach her to move more freely in the lens and then I’ll bring her here. You will see how much better she will be than I will. I’ll then receive access to your friends right.’
    ‘You’re still here, the nerve of some pupils.’
    A large force snaps at Malcolm and he becomes displaced, almost like a tornado spinning him in all directions. Malcolm starts falling, down through air mesmerized and bemused. Quickly he focuses his energies to stop and slow and relax and so he is. Demon apparitions appear suddenly thinking Malcolm a novice. Malcolm is able to see them for what they are. Baseless hollow and lack luster, gray spineless dwindling creatures who fester on human despair and hopelessness thriving where misery and pain are most prevalent. The demons approach with rapid decent.
    ‘Not this time you mangy curs’, with a few more curses Malcolm reenters his body.

  9. #129
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    Dec 2007


    Another splitter for yet another story I wrote in 2002.

    The Sage of the Twist

    Chapter One (A)

    Several moons ago the stars deposited a falling star. A magical night that, the people that saw it immediately feared the worst as if a sign from heaven, a bad omen that things were soon to turn to ash. But as the weeks wore on things remained copious. The fields yielded a great plenty, the rivers teemed with fish and the forest provided an abundant stock of plenty. Such a week might have been a sign of the graces for favor, yet as things continued to be in oversupply, a foreteller was being persecuted over this rich prosperity that had come immediately after the sign from heaven and he wasn’t the first.
    Yet this was not a good day for all the people. ‘Come on, one bad misreading and what?’ The foreteller perspired. ‘Is this the hospitality I get, by all the graces I’d have gone to the pits and back and get a better response. If I had known you’d be so touchy I’d not have even bothered.’ The foreteller rubbed his wrists a little painfully.
    A huge burly man, about thirty midwinters spoke. ‘I only work here. Besides that rant about the chief dieing didn’t go so well. Oh and what was it about the fields ashen white, with the belly of the beast stamping its claim on our village, ha.’ The man laughed, nervously all the same. ‘You just don’t know when to quit. If you’d only shut your mouth there and then, what type of foreteller are you? You have some nerve.’ Mockingly he repeated. ‘…And then a terrible blight shall befall the land, your sisters sister and her sister will carry the plague. The waters will contaminate the fish, the fish will contaminate the people and the people will be sickened. No more will children be born, all hope will vanish as rain of fire will fall from heaven and burn down the village.’
    The foreteller’s eyes bulged at the last remark. ‘I didn’t just say the village I meant.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps I misspoke some words, but…’
    ‘No, you more than misspoke, you almost gave our chief heartburn from all this scare mongering.’ The guard scratched his stubbled chin. ‘No disrespect or nothing, but I don’t believe in any of this foretelling stuff neither. If you ask me you’re as crazy as old Gorta. Ha, why she’d even say stuff that was true. But you, you overstep your bounds northerner.’
    ‘Listen, um, Tapin is it.’ He paused for a nod. ‘If you only knew who I was, I am an aid for the royal council and a prestigious nobleman at that.’
    ‘Oh sure, and I have five hats and a pair of shoes. No northerner, you are just another charlatan in many who happen to take our village for granted, nothing more than a vulture ready to say anything if there’s a string of purse attached to it.’ With aplomb the guard sat down. ‘Although, nah.’ He shook his head. ‘You must be the fifth foreteller to come here, it may mean something but then again it doesn’t matter does it. You’ll be put to the gallows like the rest of them.’ The guard chortled. ‘Look, I even have this.’ He lifted his jacket to one side and pulled out a necklace. ‘See, a nice souvenir that.’
    Tallen looked at the silver tooth in grim dismay. ‘Lessha…’ Tallen uttered with an impulsive twitch to his cheek.
    ‘Yes, Lesshalia, did you know her. By the gods, that one was a shame, a real dame. If only she kept her mouth shut like Jurgen and Aster. Ah well, I did fancy that one too, a real glint in her eyes too.’
    Tallens eyes turned red with frustrated fury. ‘Can I at least see her remains before…before I too meet such a fate?’
    ‘Ha, you’d be lucky to get a last meal let alone start making such requests. Besides I’m sure her sole is long past this world.’ Tapin slumped into a sleeping position and shut his eyes. ‘Don’t worry northerner; tomorrow will be a swift enough end. They tell me the guy to do the deed is merciless, but I know old Will. He’s a softy at heart, I’m sure if you ask nice I’ll put in a word or two for him to go gently on you.’ With a half sleepy gaze he winked at him.
    With mirthless apathy Tallen replied. ‘Oh I’m sure you will.’ With that Tallen tried to get some sleep, knowing he’d need all his wits to try and get himself out of this one.

    Lorenbast, almost a town, has everything one would expect of a village, one of many scattered across Esth. A tavern, a weapon smith, jail, guard towers, a hospice, a pier and a chief’s lodge. The tardy roofs, stuffed with straw and odd bits of mud and wood looked unstable, yet remained strong enough to stave of most weather elements. The shabbies and huts to complement the town were nothing to speak of, but then things were always a little backward in the outer towns, villages not yet sworn in for any principality, yet loyal enough to be tolerated.
    When Miranda, Ord and Ephraim approached, the people seemed exited. Nearing the tavern they reined their horses to a halt. Onlookers took a curious look at the out of towners and continued on their way. Miranda was first to disembark, Ephraim followed with Ord who seemed a little restrained.
    Ord commented. ‘Mi lady, it’d be wise for us to continue on, this town has a mark of distrust. I don’t like the vibe I’m getting.’ As if in response he turned to see a pair of yellow eyes behind a curtain blink before they vanished.
    ‘Don’t be silly.’ Ephraim started. ‘You wards, always so jumpy. Can’t you relax or something. Look here I’ll buy you some local brew and you’ll be right as rain.’ He grinned. ‘Would you please get off Falcon, I’m sure she’d much rather take a break as we all should.’ He stroked Falcon reassuringly.
    ‘He’s right. Get off the horse, there’s no point, we are here and as such we need some sleep.’ Miranda reaffirmed.
    ‘But.’ Ord seemed upset. ‘If you could only smell what I smell.’ He muttered. ‘There’s a stink of death everywhere in this place. I just don’t like it.’ He jumped down from Falcon unhappily.
    Ephraim was a stout fellow. Dressed in a simple dull dark brown travelers cloak, he was more than just a man. He was one of the infamous Troubeneer Tellers, their mirth and sarcasm for of all things, rivaled only by their impetuous singing always seemed to bring trouble. But that is why he stayed hooded, not wanting to attract attention as they often do. Still Ephraim was very faithful to Miranda. But then one needed to be strong and agile around her, she has a temper as strong as the furies themselves. Ephraim has a way of disarming her that no other man could. For he oozes charm and whoever listens immediately pays attention to his words. This is a prerequisite for any troubeneer, for as often then not it is their way with words that saves their neck from the very words that entertained them into trouble to begin with.
    ‘After some rest and a bit of song from me old fellow, you’ll be wondering what all the fuss was about.’ Ephraim smiled. His grin widened, as passers looked his way. His smile might have resembled that of a hyena except he was no animal. Those beady eyes of his never missed a thing. His moustache made him appear odd, stranger still, his short chubby persona made him look dwarf like, easily mistaken for one, he never quite got the joke about the one with stumpy legs, always at his expense. For without exception, while he may appear sluggish and without much training in the art of self-defense, he’s far deadlier than most would ever realize.
    Ord lingered. ‘Perhaps your right, we did ride hard after all. It must be weariness, nothing for it but to get some sleep. I’m sure this village is a fair representation of Esth.’ Ord was of solid build, heavy training afforded him the luxury of taught muscles and a lean complexion, to most he seemed like a regular off the wall guy. But Ord was once of royal lineage, but few would recognize that. Even fewer would acknowledge it, for his blood flows of Renkin ancestry. To most humans any mention of Renkins brought images of a filthy and outcast race of rat and weasel men who spread disease. But a long time ago before the age of man, Renkin were a strong and dominant brewed, yet now they are reduced to nothing more than scavengers, learned in the art of stealth and shadows. Ord however is a half cast, his ancestry may have come from the renkin but his birth is one of nobility. A bastard to some, to him it means what once may come. He looked away, a sudden longing in his eyes.
    Miranda saw this. ‘Ord, one day, a time will come when you will be more than my loyal ward. But for now Ephraim is right, let us take refuge.’ Miranda was the most imposing woman one might come across. Even dressed in casual garments hewn of sheep hide, her black cloak covered her features. Her auburn hair flowed down her cheek complementing her wrinkle free skin; her pale blue eyes had an eerie look of a seer. Yet her face embodied a sense of regality. Her beauty spoke volumes, yet she was neither of noble blood nor was she much for courting. Miranda was six feet and proud of her statuesque figure, for her talents are unique. An orphan, abandoned to the world, she loves her parents as if her own, yet she longs to find her true birth parents, something she holds in common with Ord.
    ‘Ah such sentimentality.’ Ephraim mused. ‘This reminds me of a story of a man down on his luck, without a care in the world. I saw him on a cliff face, looking down the pits and ready to follow its scent.’ He quickly looked at Ord then shut his mouth.
    Ord’s eyes bulged with a livid green. ‘I do not like your implications old scamp indeed. I’m not old at all.’ Ord looked very old, sporting a white beard and little to no top hair, one might certainly mistake him to be frail. In truth his age isn’t an issue, while he may appear some fifty winters of age, he is far older still, Ord is a half cast not to be trifled with. As agile and competent with sword as with any weapon, he is no easy person to fell. Yet he shows little sign of weariness, alert as ever, his training is second to none. As a former knight of castle Imbrisvale he’s no small token of frailty past his prime. Although he must keep hidden his renkin traits, a tail the size of a whip and some back hair, remarkably his facial features retain an all important human quality. For had he been born with a snout, pointy ears or mismatched eyes he’d be condemned to a life worse than death. But he is on a mission as is his charge, Miranda. The search for their origins in this inhospitable world, but alas a more pressing matter rings true in his mind. ‘Do you suppose we’ll find Lessha here. I know she went far but these days her words are less welcome than a blighted monkey.’ Ord boldly walked inside the tavern.
    ‘So this is what passes off as a tavern these days.’ Ephraim commented. ‘I’ve seen better, best not to offend, who can tell, times are tough.’
    Miranda almost spoke but then decided better of it, instead followed Ords lead leaving Ephraim on his own.
    Without fail he followed suit. The tavern had a charming welcome to it. Ye Old Plondits, so the title offered as they entered. He took the first seat available, a shaded stool with a few mugs in the back corner of the room. He nodded for the barkeeper. The barkeeper just stood there, watching Ephraim, Miranda and Ord enter. Annoyed, Ephraim stood up. ‘I’ll get us some local brew, just wait here.’
    Ord shifted his eyes front to end, taking in all openings, exits and interlopers. ‘Fine, just don’t mess this up.’ He almost wanted to impress this upon him with force but thought better of it as a little girl tugged at his sleeve.
    ‘Mister, where do you come from?’ She looked at him with innocent white eyes.
    Miranda replied. ‘Little girl isn’t it past your bedtime. Run along now. It isn’t good to pester the customers.’ She tried to give her a smile as she said this to little effect. For her to smile was like a frog kissing a toad. Still the girl seemed to understand her meaning.
    ‘Oh, okay, it’s just that. I just thought you were sent here by someone is all.’ She sulked away, a little offended by Miranda.
    ‘Barkeeper.’ Ephraim rattled the desk.’ I said bar keeper, you’re best liquor and be prompt; we don’t want the dear lady to wait. He waited patiently. Plenty of wine casks lined the shelves; he was beginning to wonder if the barkeeper was blind.
    ‘Your not from these parts’
    Irritated, Ephraim loosened his belly straps. ‘How perceptive.’ He smirked with a little less decorum, taking a mug in one hand. ‘Now, about that drink, I’ve not tasted good wine in ages. Come now what seems to trouble you.’
    The barkeeper twiddled his thumbs before answering. ‘Well good sir, I can see you be northerners and well equipped by the likes.’ He stole a quick glance at Ord. ‘Might I be so bold as to ask which province you be of.’ The Barkeepers muzzled face showed a little sign of sweat as his face reddened.
    Ephraim stood up for dramatic effect. ‘Good sir, if all it takes is a few names to get a little revelry then so be it. I’m Ephraim and to my right, seated is sir Ord and lady Miranda. Now as to which province, well lets just say were harmless travelers going on our way, seeking good fortune and a festive time.’ With a huge grin and a little sprinkle of sand he reseated with a little twinkle to his eye. ‘And if I may be so bold, but who is it that wants to know. If I haven’t left my eyes back home, I could have sworn bars were meant for any and all regardless of statutes or circumstance. Since when is the price for wine served with a name and such distrust.’
    The barkeeper raised his eyes to that, for a time said nothing. Instead he reached for a standard flask of wine and poured him a glass. ‘Since the rumors of blight is when.’ The barkeeper rubbed his cheeks in thought. ‘Call me Relg. As I’m the owner of these parts then I see no reason as not to question me patrons. Besides.’ Relg paused. ‘Coin, is it safe to say you carry enough coin for the drink.’
    ‘Certainly my good man, why so dour all of a sudden. Anyone would of thought us to be Relkin or something by the hospitality you afford us.’ As smooth as the troubeneer stock in trade, he jested, tiptoeing round a knife-edge of trouble.
    Relg grunted. ‘Is there anything else?’
    ‘Why yes, as a matter of fact, my lady and I, we were wondering, oh and our stout man over there.’ He motioned with his hand. Ord gave him an impressively cold stare. ‘Oh I don’t know, I’m sure in such a busy environment, you wouldn’t happen to have room for three wearied souls no would you.’
    ‘Insolent little blighter.’ He smirked. ‘I’m almost beginning to like you. Fine, room a plenty. That’d be forty coin for the night plus the drinks, all up fifty will do.’ Relg opened his hand.
    ‘Ouch, that’s a little steep.’ Dipping into his coat pocket he withdrew the correct coin. ‘For this amount of coin I expect nothing but the best. My lady has needs you see.’ He winked at Relg.
    ‘Good luck to ya, you’ll find no better in miles. Just be sure not to cause trouble.’
    Slurping down the drink he took the wine bottle and returned to his companions. ‘Did you hear, there’s something odd here. Half the place seems anxious at something and the other just looks ready to pounce.’
    Ord took a swig from the wine. ‘Oh and I’m sure this place is a bad as a relkins den made quit an impression.’ Ord looked at Ephraim with disgust. Easily swallowing half the bottle in no time.
    ‘Oh, and you think you could have done better. I’d like to see you try. At least I didn’t start a fight like the last encounter.’ He eyed the bottle in Ords hands. ‘Hay careful with that, weren’t you the one upset by death or something. At that rate you’d wish for death. Now leave some for our dear lady.’
    Miranda did not smile. ‘Ord, stop drinking and Ephraim, do we need to start this again?’ She shifted her attention. ‘You know what’s at stake, how many times have I told you, be as inconspicuous as possible. But as the pits will so you too want to leave us hanging. Can’t you see these people are upset by something? If we stir some more I’m sure our heads may be in a noose. I know we can take out most of them but by the pits not all. So please shut your mouth.’ She took the key from his hand. ‘Playtime is over. I suggest we all have a long rest. We have a long day ahead of us.’
    Ord parted with the bottle reluctantly and Ephraim’s sarcasm subsided. ‘That’s better. The things I have to put up with.’ Miranda muttered as she took a step upstairs to their room. As she opened the door a giant rat scuttled past. A look of disappointment clearly evident she said nothing, if more so for Ords sake than hers.
    But Ord did say. ‘What kind of dump is this, this can’t be the best lodgment, can it?’ A broken down bed lay to one side, a chest of draws lay scattered across the room and the floorboards cracked as if not recently used.
    ‘How charming, look was that one of your long lost relatives.’ Ephraim’s humor did not sit well with Ord. A large chunk of his arm suddenly received a goodly sized bruise as pain made him weep. ‘Now that was uncalled for.’ he whimpered.
    ‘Tell it to someone who cares.’ A wry smile crossed his face. ‘I for one feel much better, that tension I’ve been feeling, I think its gone. Besides, be a man, if I can take such punishment then why can’t you. That’s a pittance to what I had to go through so quit your whining.’ Ord dropped his blade undid his robes and removed his protective breastplates. ‘I’d have sooner slept outside than here. The smell is unbearable, if only you could smell it. ‘
    Miranda added. ‘If I can smell half of what you smell then I second that motion. Best we make do with what we got.’
    ‘Come now, its not so bad.’ He picked up part of the draw; half of its frame rumpled and fell to ground. ‘Well we have seen better to be sure but its still better than the pits if you ask me.’

  10. #130
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    Dec 2007


    Next bit

    CH1 (B)

    Tallen opened his eyes to a dreary morning full of rain. His malnourished body came with a deep-set frown. Not a small man, he almost reached six feet, yet even his imposing figure couldn’t prevent today. It was more often than not his mouth that landed him into trouble. Stripped of his gray cloak and robes, all he had was a sheet tightly wrapped round his body. He shivered. His main tumbled down to shoulder length, a little sparse round the crown; he had always hopped to attract the ladies. But then when the visions appeared, he could no longer disregard them. Even if most of his predictions came true, what would it matter, they were always painful. People never want to here bad news, worst still if the bad news never came then he was the one at fault, but they always came eventually.
    Tallens lips parted to catch a trickle of water that slid down the window. Still hopping his roguish good looks might sway them, but the court had little affluent women. Than there was the chief, a massive body of work, he ate more than he spoke. How can someone like that be persuaded to let him go? Impossible, that’s how I landed into this mess to begin with. The savages, what have they done to Lesshalia. How can they persecute the truth? As a foreteller he’s seen pretty amazing things. He’s been to all four corners of Esth and back, yet in all his time he managed to live through all adversity. How then am I trapped here, I am a great foreseer, I should have seen this coming yet it seems even I am infallible.
    Tapin returned. ‘Good to see you’re still here, the people would be mightily disappointed if we had a no show.’ He strode down the steps with a swagger down his left leg. His festered sore irritated him as he came to undo the lock, with a clink the door opened. Tapin proceeded to strap Tallens arms together before muttering. ‘The chief will especially delight in your execution northerner. Don’t worry good old Will’s gonna go easy on ya. He says it’ll feel like a razor blade, a little nick to the neck and off your head goes.’ He snorted, sniffling a little.
    Tallen paled as Tapin described his execution. All fight left him by this time, not that he could have struggled much. The food tasted foul, the water smelt as bad and the hygiene was there within the cell, no place to go. His ribs showed, a few warts and names sake imprinted near his thigh. He rose to conform to Tapins tugs. Even if he wanted to, he had no weapons bar the straw and a loose stone that might as well have been a pebble for all the good it’d do him. ‘I’m glad someone’s enjoying themselves.’ He sighed. His opal green eyes looked dour as he struggled to come to grips with the impending reality. Still he was a handsome man underneath that beard of his. More the pity, he thought, never again will I taste the delicate flesh of a wench. His rounded head and smooth body featured so little blemishes, but one might not see the truth of it. Covered in grime and soot he looked the part of a thief, yet a spark of hope persisted.
    Tapin was halfway up the stairs when Tallen collapsed. Even though Tapin was no slouch he felt the dead weight and called out. ‘Daroff, get yer lazy butt down here, I told you he’d faint. They always do.’ He grumbled a little disappointed.
    A burly figure popped his head through the door. He replied cynically. ‘Don’t go putting no blame on me Tapin. It was you who said he’d be fine. I offered but you said nay. Still he looks destitute.’ He simpered at Tapin with one of his queer laughs. Then took his time before grabbing Tallens left shoulder.
    Tapin lifted his right shoulder and then they both carried him outside. ‘It’ll soon be over then, lets hope we don’t regret this.’ He mused.
    ‘What’s there to regret, a lowly scum like this telling us what’s best, the chief did the proper on him, put him out of his misery. Ha, and he be wrong too, what a ways to go.’ Daroff turned to Tapin. ‘But you know there’s been a lot of them lately.’
    ‘Yeah that’s what I thought too.’ Tapin halted and opened the door. ‘They all said much the same, but even if any of it is true, I find it unlikely mind you. We better keep quiet we don’t want this to spread.’
    ‘I’m sure the chief knows what he’s doing.’ He frowned.
    ‘Yes, I had the same thoughts. What If…’ He scratched his chin before continuing. ‘What if what the northerner says is true?’
    ‘You mean the blight spreading and how his sister t’was the one to start it all and all them houses burning and our women being barren and all.’ Daroff huffed as he pushed Tallen through the door then followed Tapins lead and lifted him over the blockade they had put in case something bad was to happen. ‘Boy he sure is heavy, you’d have thought he’d be light as paper by the ways we’ve been feeding him.’ He grinned at the last remark.
    Tapin sweated a little before getting annoyed. ‘Yes, yes, so the dead always get heavy. Stop winging. Besides.’ He paused. ‘It’s not what I meant, he may have said that but its what he said to me that most disturbs me.’
    Daroff raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, and what’s that?’
    ‘He was saying he’s important is all, something about being a noble of great prestige. I’m just thinking if, if so many keep vanishing like this, people will be asking why the trail ends at poor old Lorenbast, they would.’ A puzzled look crossed his face. ‘What then, even though we’re not of any province so to speak people will ask questions. Probably send out an army to investigate into it.’
    Daroff eyed Tapin with a little scorn. ‘Ah, you worry too much. There’s been not an army nor a nobleman interested in this place for twenty winters or more.’
    ‘Perhaps but then what’s up with the chief? Have you noticed he seems to be gorging food down as if the pits themselves needed it? The amount he eats a day, a family of five would be hard pressed to eat in a week is all.’ He grunted. ‘Besides the rate he’s going the fields would be dry by the morrow.’
    He turned on Tapin in a threatening manner as if the body was paperweight after all. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Now look who’s winging. Let’s get moving, the sooner this is over the better if you ask me. You’re not getting cold feet now are you?’
    Tapin scowled, a little offended. ‘As if.’ Without a word they dragged Tallen to the courtyard. The streets were packed with onlookers. The cobbled stone was soaked with rain. As they approached, the people blocking their way parted. A scruffy woman threw a rotten tomato at Tallen, it ran down the cloth leaving a light red line. Another jeered as they passed. A third was about to throw a stone but was prevented by a strong hand.
    ‘Hay.’ He yelled turning towards the owner of the hand. ‘What in pits name is your problem?’ Enraged he wanted to lash out but thought better of it. ‘Can’t you see a heretic when you see one.’
    ‘No.’ the man muttered. ‘All I see is a man half starved.’
    The man felt a little intimidated. ‘Let go, uh, let go my hand.’
    Shifting his gaze from the impoverished man he asked. ‘Why is he being put to the gallows?’
    Fanatically the onlooker screamed. ‘Why in all the pits do you think?’ His eyes widened. ‘He’s a heretic, a northerner just like you. Now let go.’ He demanded. ‘Before you join him, is that what you want.’ An insane grin spread across his mouth. ‘Or better yet, are you his accomplice.’ He parted his darkened hair. The onlooker seemed infuriated, as if madness overtook him.
    Ord looked into the onlookers eyes, there’s no reasoning with this one. He seemed to be gone; he even smelled the stink of madness on him. ‘Hold there fellow. I only wanted to know, if he’s a heretic then a heretics death he deserves.’ He unclasped him and disappeared into the crowd before the onlooker could do anything. He looked into the crowd and the smell of madness assaulted him. What is this, who are these people. Quickly he backed into the last row of onlookers and squeezed his way through to the other end. At a running trot he brushed past the door of Ye Old Plondits to warn Miranda and Ephraim.

    ‘Ooh, my back.’ Ephraim complained. The room still smelled as bad as the night before. As he got up he noticed Ord’s bed lay undisturbed. ‘Miranda.’ Ephraim knelt beside her.
    ‘Mmph, leave me be whelp. I am the lady Miranda Lynn Angelmere, you’d do well to heed these words.’ She mumbled at Ephraim. ‘Go away.’ She brushed his hand aside as she pulled the covers tightly round her shoulders.
    Ephraim tugged at her dress. ‘Miranda.’ He shouted.
    ‘WHAT.’ She cried, her eyes snapped open.
    ‘Its Ord?’
    ‘Ord.’ She spoke a little dazed. ‘What about Ord.’
    Sheepishly he explained. ‘He’s not here his bed remains undisturbed! Don’t you find this a little odd?’ He stood up.
    Miranda propped herself up. ‘Is that all. He’s my ward, what do you expect.’ Annoyed she went to the lavatory. ‘You should be used to this.’ She rinsed her hands. ‘Its not like he had anything better to do, besides he did feel out of sorts about this place.’
    ‘Yeah I know, but still it’d be nice of him to tell us.’ He plucked a nose hair and yelped a little. ‘He can’t keep this up you know. One day he’ll have to get a proper nights rest.’
    Miranda popped through the door refreshed. ‘Proper nights rest.’ She scoffed. ‘You call this a proper nights rest.’ Her fists bunched up. ‘I guess one can’t be choosy.’ She jabbed at a recently formed scare. ‘It’s Ords responsibility to see to our safety. Besides he probably went in search of information concerning Lesshalia.’
    ‘Then there’s that too. You don’t suppose there’s anything good to eat round here.’ He asked more to himself than anyone. His stomach grumbled in protest. ‘I’ll go down and take a look.’ Miranda waived in response. Downstairs the place looked the same as the night before. No attempt was made to clean anything. The place looked deserted. Perhaps its still too early or something, he thought to himself. He approached the desk quietly. As he was about to yell for Relg, Ord burst through the front door. Ephraim spun around, a startled look on his eyes. ‘Speak of the pits themselves. We were just talking about you.’
    ‘No time for this.’ He wheezed. ‘Where’s Miranda.’ Not even waiting for Ephraim’s response he climbed the steps to her room.
    ‘Well duh, hello.’ Ephraim started. ‘As if we didn’t know the answer to that one.’ He followed.
    Ord looked a little shaken as he entered. ‘Miranda.’ He started. ‘There’s trouble.’
    She immediately tensed as she buttoned her blouse. ‘Ord, come sit, tell us what you know.’
    ‘No time, we must hurry.’ He paced to his bunk and reached for his dagger and sword. ‘It’s him.’
    Ephraim came in. ‘Did I hear there’s no time.’
    As he was about to leave Miranda halted him. ‘Stop.’ She said. ‘What happened?’
    ‘Yes do tell.’ Ephraim blocked the exit with his fat countenance.
    Wearied, Ord stopped. ‘I knew something was wrong a mile away. It’s just that I didn’t want to alarm you. See I smelled this kind of thing before. It’s the madness. Then after we came here I stole a bit of drink to calm my nerves.’
    Amusement played on Ephraim’s mouth. ‘Stole a little, more like drank half the bottle.’
    ‘Damn it Ephraim.’ He snapped, irritated. ‘Look it’s this whole place, at first I thought nothing of it, but the longer I stayed here the more it dawned on me.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘Its as if.’ He shook his head. ‘Well, its as if what Lesshalia said came true. You remember her words, last winter just before she left Imbrisvale she had a vision.’
    ‘And what of it.’ Ephraim asked curiously. ‘Something about plague?’
    ‘And you call yourself a troubeneer.’ Ord retorted. ‘Not the plague, a blight, a blight will take root in a lonely village.’ He recited.’ This village will become known, but not at first.’ His eyes furrowed. ‘Um.’ Miranda interjected. ‘Yes, I remember.’ She said. ‘Everything will seem fine at first but a cloud will appear. A haze of smoke will show the madness as a man is carried to his doom. Then she passed out and the next morning she was gone.’
    ‘So what, you think this is the place she spoke of.’ Ephraim cracked his knuckles.
    ‘I’m certain of it.’ He sounded convinced. ‘This is as far as her scent goes. I scouted around.’ Grimly he continued. ‘I’m not sure but I think she died a while ago.’ Renkin have an incredibly keen sense of smell, so well in fact, that he’d be able to smell a scented apple a mile away. But the advantages don’t stop there; his eyesight is second to none, as keen and shrewd as a dogs. Still for all the benefits his ancestry provide, he still has a tendency to scavenge for half eaten food, delighting in savory meat freshly killed, something he tells to no one lest they find him uncouth.
    Miranda appeared distressed. ‘Are you certain of this?’ She whispered.
    Ord looked downcast. ‘Almost sure, I saw many graves just outside the village. Perhaps it was another. I had little time as some men approached. I couldn’t see their cowled faces, but a perplexing scent carried after them. They carried a body to an open grave. After which I returned to the village, fearing to be seen.’ He tried to reason with himself that he did all he could.
    In a lighter tone Ephraim spoke. ‘I’m sure it was an old acquaintance that had some clothing of hers.’ He hopped but seemed less convinced.
    ‘Then our mission has already failed.’ She uttered miserably.
    ‘There’s more.’ He paced the room. ‘I couldn’t sleep so naturally I remained lithe in my undertakings. Everything was fine up until this morning.’ He said urgently. ‘A crowd started to form. I found this odd so I decided to blend in as best I could. Fortunately no one took notice. It almost seemed most of the town was present but for what I could only imagine. Especially at such an early morning too.’ He stopped for a moment, his patience at an end. ‘Enough, by the gods the more I sit here, the sooner another will die. Come we must stop this madness.’
    ‘Wait, wait just a bit.’ Ephraim tried to digest all he said. ‘A man or woman?’
    Miranda got her things and started to follow Ord. ‘Does it matter.’ She hollered.
    Ephraim retorted. ‘Well, yes. It could be Lesshalia.’ He too stopped to dress and followed after them. Or then again maybe not, he thought.
    As they made haste to the courtyard, the bedraggled man knelt on a chopping board, an axe aimed square for his gullet, like a turkey ready for its end. The people started to chant. ‘Kill, kill, kill.’
    Miranda gasped and impulsively shouted. ‘STOP.’ The crowd continued to ignore her. ‘I COMMAND YOU TO STOP.’ She started to weave the words into an irresistible cacophony. Momentarily the crowd silenced by this remark. Then smoke started to rise from the bodies of the people, most but not all. Tapin and a couple others looked at Miranda, a little confused.
    Ord drew his sword, fearing the worst. He stepped forward. Ephraim followed suit, fumblingly he drew his double-edged daggers and waited for the crowd’s response.
    She weaved the words once more. ‘I command you to stop.’ Then a corpulent man made his was through the crowd. The man was heavy beyond measure. Were he to sit, he’d certainly crush a couple of heads. But it was the way he walked, as if carried by something, he reared his way to a halt before them. He sounded shrill. ‘Who dares stop the execution of the heretic?’ All the while eyeing them with his right eye. The left appeared blind.
    ‘In the name of Imbrisvale, I demand to know what this man is accused of.’ Miranda responded bravely. The crowed became agitated.
    The man stopped in thought before he slyly responded. ‘Ah, Imbrisvale, it seems fate has intercepted the foretellers end. Chief Kell greets all.’ He snapped his fingers; the man wielding the axe immediately lowered it. Then he turned to the assembly of people. ‘Go home.’ He glared over them. Without more words spoken the crowd dispersed, a little stunned, some deeply shocked, while others still out for blood made their dismay apparent. ‘Come.’ He said. ‘We need to discuss terms I presume.’ He did not turn to them, instead strode off to his villa in sheer arrogance.
    Ephraim was about to say something but Ord abruptly pressed his hand over his mouth and whispered. ‘Don’t be foolish. Do you think to fight all of them.’ Then grinned and followed after the haughty man. Ephraim and Miranda subsumed and did the same. They looked at each other wordlessly as the man they just saved was being dragged away.
    Kell was a brutish man; the buildings shook a little as he walked down the street. But that might be a little exaggerated. Non-the less Kell hit the ground hard enough for Ord, Ephraim and Miranda to feel the impact. His fingers were adorned with jewelry, a scarf was neatly wrapped round his neck and the apron strung round his waist made him look like the local butcher. The rings jiggled as he walked, but in particular one ring captured Ord’s attention. A black opal with an unusual twist in the center seemed to somehow rotate of its own accord. He wondered how such a thing was ever possible.
    ‘This way.’ Kell pointed to a large hall. ‘This is my humble establishment. If you’d like some refreshments.’ Kell seated himself behind a large desk, the table filled with all manners of food. A half-eaten stuffed turkey to one side, a pork roast, chicken and a grilled spittle of beef. Wine and fruit in bowls, with fish and bread all spread out lavishly as if waiting for tonight’s revelry. Unceremoniously Kell helped himself to a portion of grilled beef, downed by a flagon of fine wine, a potato and some grapes. ‘Good food, dig in.’ He spoke as he chomped down on a tender piece of meat.
    Ephraim picked an apple and took a large bite. ‘Dear Kell, more accurately, chief of Lorenbast, you don’t suppose you’d bring us up to speed with the situation now would you.’ He said with his most charming smile.
    ‘Ah.’ He looked Ephraim over. As if gaining a new insight he said. ‘A troubeneer I see. Now what does such a creature want with a poor defenseless town as Lorenbast.’ Then returned to his meal, snapping a chicken leg he put to his puffy lips.
    Ephraim looked at Miranda wide eyed, then to Ord. He did not know how to respond to that exactly. ‘How perceptive sir.’ He changed tact. ‘Now about that man.’
    Kell removed a plump piece of pork and tore into it. ‘I’m just ravenous today it seems, you must excuse, my manners are somewhat jaded today.’
    Miranda could stand it no longer. ‘Listen Kell, you tell us what we want and then perhaps we won’t need to bring Barrington into this.’
    Kells eyes shone a silvery white as she said it. ‘Ah Barrington, should be mine that. I think one day it may be given to me.’ He resumed his gorging.
    ‘Answer me.’ Her temperature raised a level.
    ‘Tut, tut my dear. I agree. Tallen is the one you refer to. He is a worthless piece of hide that needs to be dealt a lesson. As did other foretellers face the same fate before him. We don’t tolerate heretics in this village very well. You see, he speaks of blasphemy where only the righteous walk.’ A grin as wide as a gutted fish flashed across his face.
    Ord stepped forward. ‘Tell me Kell did Lesshalia happen to receive such a lesson.’ He raised his sword level. Anger flashed in his eyes as he watched this monster feast.
    Kell looked at Ord briefly, a flicker of recognition came to him. ‘Lo brother, there’s no need to point that beastly weapon around. Aren’t you perchance a relkin.’ He frowned. ‘Now, now brother there’s no need to upset yourself. I won’t tell if you won’t. Come join me, this is a happy time.’
    Ord looked puzzled. ‘Where is Lesshalia?’ He repeated.
    Kell stopped eating and considered Ord’s words. ‘Lesshalia you say.’ He feigned. ‘I’m not aware of such a one. Do you think us savage.’ His good eye rolled back.
    There was nothing he could say. That fact that he could tell Ord was Relkin bothered him. But he sensed a dreadful power behind that mask of flesh and bone, a power as strong as the pits themselves. The smell didn’t reassure him, such foul madness, it almost consumed him but he was stronger than this. He had to be, as a knight of Imbrisvale, he had to be, as a ward and protector to Miranda, he had to be. But then he started questioning his own role in all of this, what if this was meant to be. He shook his head. ‘If you know me to be Relkin then I’ll ask again, where is Lesshalia?’ A steely edge crept into his voice.
    Kell only smiled. ‘Do not insult me boy.’ He put down the food and sat still for a time. ‘Do not interfere here.’ He warned. ‘I expect you all to leave tomorrow otherwise!’ He did not finish his threat and he didn’t have to. The guards spoke volumes as they approached and ushered them out of the hall roughly.
    The sky parted, a mist blanketed the town, then a ray of sunlight pierced through putting an end to any rain. Ephraim, Ord and Miranda were ushered back to ye old plondits. Inside they retreated to their room as all the men and women looked on.
    ‘Be sure to pay for today.’ Relg shouted after them.

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