Self-appointed Writing Experiment

5k words in one day? It's not over 9000, but it will do for now

2012-11-05T00:19:00.003-08:00

The laughs followed shortly. After catching his breath, the clerk continued, “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Every year there’s at least one new combatant who’s running in like a crazed madman, and I always tell them the same thing, but your reaction was by far the best I’ve seen. You don’t hide your emotions very well, do you?” The clerk- dressed in an interesting attire of blue pants with a button-up shirt, both of which had a thick, white stripe running down the middle of them- stepped from behind his desk and moved to a door to Ian’s left, not ten feet away. Pulling a ring of many keys from a loop partially hidden by his loose shirt, the clerk lifted a panel on the large, intricately designed door, and inserted his key.

Ian paused for a second as he took in the scene in front of him. The carving in the stone door depicted a lot of flowing lines surrounding a person, who appeared to be coming out of the ground. It seemed as though the man was empty, but the lines were trying to fill him with something. Perhaps it was life? The man’s pose suggested that he was waking up for the first time, maybe it was talking about –

The clerk’s voice butt into Ian’s thoughts, “We really don’t have a lot of time. We’re cutting it close already as it is. This time you really did just barely squeak in. I don’t think I’ve had anyone come in exactly at the deadline before. So congratulations, Ian, you really are a man of firsts for the Arena.”

Ian just bowed his head as he walked through the door which easily dwarfed him. With all his running, he didn’t even have a time to see just how huge this level of the tower was. The floor was easily thirty feet beneath the ceiling, and the door was only a few feet shorter than the whole room. He had a hard time taking it all in, and wanted to keep looking into the previous room, but the clerk closed the door behind him, which was finalized by the click of the door handle as it latched into place. Ian had to know, “Is every floor like this? Because if there are, there must not be as many floors in this tower as I thought.”

“Oh, every floor is like this, but there are over three hundred floors in this tower, though not all of them are currently in use. You see,” the clerk went on with his obviously practiced speech as he ushered Ian through what appeared to be a dining area, “this whole tower was built back in the day when the Arena was built, when the forgotten magics were still practiced and taught, so every floor is as big as you see it here, but takes up only a few feet of the actual tower vertically. They also saved space horizontally, so instead of being a circle roughly four hundred feet in diameter, as it would appear on the outside, it’s actually more like six thousand feet in diameter. It’s really quite mind boggling, as I can tell by your open mouth,” Ian shut his mouth, not realizing he had opened it in the first place, “and thus, we have much room for growth here at the Combat Center.”

Ian had already walked by countless tables, all carved out of the same white stone as the tower, almost as if it had been part of the same stone, for he wasn’t even sure if he saw a break between the floor and the tables, but it must have been a play of the light, for there was no way that all the furniture could be carved right in, let alone, that a whole tower could be carved out of one piece of stone. Unless these forgotten magics were as powerful as he had heard a few say.

“Ah! Here we are!” the clerks voice brought Ian back to reality as he exited the dining area, “This is where you will be staying.”

“In a hallway?” The hallway in question was long, and had no visible doors, though it did have plenty of paintings, embellished wood carvings, and other decorations hanging off, and being part of, the wall.

“No, but this is where everyone stays as they prepare for the coming up competition,” Ian’s look must have been one of disbelief, for the clerk quickly followed up with, “I suppose I’ll show you to your room, then.”

They walked down the hallway for quite a ways before the clerk pointed and said, “Here we are!” with the happiest grin that Ian had ever seen painted on his face.

Ian followed the man’s finger, and found himself looking at a blank wall with wallpaper falling off it. He looked back at the man. “Really? You’re trying to pull another joke after what you did when I first came to check in?”

The man sighed, and his red-haired head sagged a little as he started to explain, “You see, we want to keep all our combatants safe, so we decided to camouflage our rooms. Well, rather the maker of this building made it this way. Sometimes a room is where one would not be thought to be, and sometimes a room is not where one might suppose. It helps keep assassination attempts to a minimum. The Arena is a hairy place, and all. I mean, it would be even worse did we not have the resurrection magic in place. Then we’d just have a lot of dead bodies at the end of a match, and not very many people left to fight, much less, willing to fight.” He started fidgeting with some of the curled pieces of wallpaper, pulling some, twisting others, and then drew a figure with his finger on the wall, “This way everyone has a much higher chance of survival, even outside the battles.” He smiled with that same grin as the wall opened up.

“How did you do that?” Ian was used to magic, but this forgotten magic stuff was a little out of his area of expertise.

“Think of it as a combination.” Closing the wall, the man turned to Ian, pointing out what he did as he went along. “Tug this one once, that one twice, twist this one a quarter turn to the right, and flick that one with your index finger, and then carve this symbol with your finger on the wall.” The symbol mentioned looked like two lines intersecting with a circle in the middle of them. “Though, it should recognize you as its tenant and open for you when you get near.” And with that, the clerk started to walk away.

Ian looked at the wall, still a little thrown off by pretty much everything he’d experienced in the tower thus far. This really is a different world from the lower arenas. “Oh! If it’s so assassin proof, what would happen if someone followed me to my room?” Ian called out after the man.

“Impossible,” came his reply over his shoulder, not missing a stride. “We’re invisible as soon as we entered the hallway, no one can see anyone else, and only we can see each other since I’m the clerk here. Enjoy your night, and don’t forget to rest up. You’ll need it!” And with that last remark, the blue-clad man turned around, gave a short bow, and then exited the hallway.

Ian slowly turned to face the wall, pondered it for a moment, and then went through the motions as instructed by the odd man. The door opened, and he stepped inside.

Chapter 3

To say that the room was vast would be an understatement. He had the living room the size of a small library –which was an appropriate description, since it housed many books –a kitchen with all the cooking apparatuses needed to make a small feast, and several doors into other various rooms, which he decided he would explore later, for his first priority was to stretch out on the long seat in the main room and let all the stresses of the day just drift away as he lay there. He allowed himself a small chuckle as he realized that he had been on his back, asleep for three days, yet the first thing he wanted to do when he got to his room was lie down and just relax.

It was a very comfortable couch, though.

And the next thing he knew, he heard a small voice coming from inside the room. “The time is now 80:00, and dinner is now served,” Ian looked around to find the source of the voice, finding a bluish head floating over the mantle of the fireplace mouthing the words as they came out, “Please make your way to the dining area. And please be reminded that all forms of violence, whether magical or mundane will be dealt with harshly, this is a safe place for preparation, not a battleground, and it would be wise to remember this. Enjoy your meal, and best of luck in the battle.” The head vanished as the message finished, leaving Ian staring at more white stone.

At least the couch wasn’t made of stone. And with that thought, Ian hopped up, feeling right as rain, and exited his room, making his way to the dining area. As he approached the exit of the hallway, he started, as a person appeared right in front of him. As his breath returned to him, he remembered what the clerk had told him, wondering if anyone else had had a similar reaction, and glad that he was still invisible, and apparently intangible to anyone else, for he hadn’t bumped into anyone else along the way. Testing his theory, he remained standing where he was as he watched person after person appear in front of him. Not feeling anything even once, despite the dozens of people who popped into existence, he concluded that his guess was correct, and thus continued walking, humming happily as he watched the other contestants, with whom he would be locked in intense combat the following day.

As he rounded the doorway into the cafeteria, he took a quick moment to scan the other combatants and see if he couldn’t guess what sort of mage they were. There were plenty of robes, that was for sure, but usually something as small as what color the robe was, or whether or not they had a hood could tell you what sort of spells they favored. Sometimes there were those who held the superstition that a certain robe color, or pattern would allow for more powerful spells, either a specific type of spell, or just in general, yet, despite Ian’s several experiments with and readings of this matter, he had come to the conclusion that it was just that, superstition, and that a robe was a robe was a robe, which made it just a personal style choice, which made it easy for Ian when he had to decide a robe. Not only did he love the color brown, but it also was a good color for trying to blend in things. It also hid dirt and stains really well, so he didn’t have to wash it as often as a white robe, for which he was grateful. Time washing was time not studying, and thus was mostly a waste of time in his mind.

It seemed that the current generation of magi were fond of darker colors, he could only see one or two white robes, which meant that most of the magic he would be facing would probably be from an arcane source, not from a deity or a cause from which someone got their power. He always had a little spot in him that viewed divine spell users as lesser magi since they relied on another source for their power, instead of their understanding of magical energy, and the manipulation that happened to the energies around them, which required much training, or talent, both of which Ian had plenty. A small smile crept onto his lips as he took a moment to feel proud of his achievements as a magus.

It was then that the smell of the food from the kitchen hit him. The hunger hit him immediately, causing him to double in over as his stomach apparently decided to invert itself inside him and start chewing on his backbone. He half shuffled, half waddled to the line, which was decently long, and tried not to cry out as loudly as his belly did.

He could feel several stares on him as he stood there, hunched over. He tried to ignore them, which wasn’t too difficult to do with the parasite that had replaced his stomach and was sucking the very life force out of him. A few long minutes later, he was seated at a table, by himself, wolfing down his food as quickly as he possibly could, neither caring about table manners at this particular moment, nor even about what he was putting in his mouth. It tasted like chicken, but just about everything tasted like chicken to him, so he could have been eating anything. All that he cared about was that it was food that was going into his stomach, and it was bringing his energy back. It was also returning his stomach to it’s rightful form and state of inside-outness.

After a quick return trip for seconds, and then thirds, which got him only one or two ugly looks from the women behind the counter, he returned to his room, ready to study up on his opponents. He had many things to figure out for the next day. What spells should he prepare, what sort of strategy would he take for winning points, and of course, what was he going to wear? For this battle, there was an exception to the normal rule of no special outfits. You see, this battle was all about winning a spot in one of the four, lower houses, and while combat technique was important, if you were horrible at fighting, but had a good following from the spectators, it was very possible that a house would take you in for the extra support. Spectators were very important in the Arena. The larger the spectator following, the more options a house had available to use in combat; it was almost a type of currency.

With his mind racing, and thoughts circling around in his head, Ian walked to the hallway, and down to his room, which opened up for him automatically as he came near, and then closed behind him as he settled down into the couch of his room.

Curious about whether the room had a ME or not, Ian looked around a little, looking for the box which would contain it. Before too much time passed by, and no luck finding the box, he figured that it would be better to not look and just ask a question. “Would you happen to have the recordings about the contestants in the battle royale that’s taking place tomorrow? The ones from the past few days?”

The face on the mantle came back, “Yes,” it spoke. “Was there a particular contestant about whom you were curious?”

“Not really,” Ian rubbed his hand against the back of his head, not really sure where to start all his planning. “Could you display a list of the contestants for me?”

“Of course, sir.” The head remained where it was, but a blue box appeared in the center of the living area, it had names written on it.

Ian quickly counted the names, forty-seven names, forty-eight with his own included in the lot. “Could you read the names, show a picture of the person, and then give me some basic info on their fight with Gregory?”

“How basic, Ian?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, just give me the main types of spells they used, and if they did anything special during that fight.”

“Of course…” the ME started going through all the names as Ian reached into the cloak of his rob and pulled out his spellbook. He started turning through the pages, making a mental note of what would be good against certain people and their spells. With so many people, he’d have to choose a more generic approach to this battle, dealing with what he had the most likely chance of running into; there were only so many spells he could remember in a day, with all the intricate syllables and specific hand motions that needed to be used in order to draw out and manipulate his energy appropriately. One stray movement or mixed syllable, and the spell wouldn’t work, or even worse, do something unintentional, like exploding in his face, and he wouldn’t really want to do that.

Still looking at his book, he moved his free hand and spoke the word “Zuta.” A noise from the kitchen signified that his spell had worked. “Make me some hot water and herbs, please.” A pump that seemed to pump water itself and some clinking dishes told him that his unseen servant had heard the request and had started his job. A few moments, and a wonderful smell of burning cedar in the fire, later, a floating mug approached Ian as he continued his strategy-making. With so many people it would be hard, but they were all first timers, or at least most of them were. I’m sure some of them have failed in the past and are trying to get in, he thought to himself.

As the night wore on, it became more and more clear that these were all amateur mages, some with great talent, but not as well learned in the interaction of different magics together, nor with how magic actually worked. Either by dumb luck or natural talent were they able to fling spells around. There wasn’t much intelligence amongst them. There was even one combatant who tried to throw a fireball at Gregory, and ended up having it come back at him via Gregory’s fire control and blast him for twice its original power. Poor guy.

The hours passed by, and after several unseen servants and hot teas, Ian decided that bed was a good place to go, he had most of tomorrow to finish the rest of his strategy, but he felt as though he had a good idea for what spells he would prepare in the morning. It was then that he remembered that he hadn’t actually found which room was the bedroom yet. He trudged through the room, ready for sleep.

The first door he opened appeared to be a study with a desk. Nothing too exciting here, next room. In the following room was nothing much besides what he presumed to be a coat rack. Yay, closets, perfect for sleeping. Next. In the next room he finally found for what he was looking. A bed. He threw himself onto the godsent blankets and almost forgot to change out of his robe for bed because the mattress was so comfortable. After changing into pajamas –which were provided for him in the nearby dresser –he made sure to lean his staff in the corner by the door, just in case he needed it in the night, though he probably wouldn’t, seeing as the security of this place was super tight.

“Could you turn out the lights please?” He requested of the ME and fell asleep almost before he semi-realized that the lights had turned off.

Chapter 4

Ian was pleased with his clothing selection for the day. He managed to find a brown and white robe that looked extremely sharp, especially on him; it even came with leather gloves, which fit him perfectly. They hadn’t relaxed just quite yet, but he hoped that by the time he got into the new arena, they’d be as snug on his fingers as a jelly fig on a breadstick. Man, those things would stick on there, and thinking about that made him hungry, but he had to remember how totally awesome he looked, so he walked by a mirror once again while he waited for the announcement that breakfast was ready.

His cool, green eyes matched the belt that he had picked out, and he hoped that the long tail of his knotted belt would bring the attention back up to his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he vaguely remembered hearing that from someone and decided to take their advice. He also had on brow boots which matched his gloves and his robe, and pants that he wore under the robe which were a white that contrasted nicely with the dark browns. Overall, he was quite pleased with this, but the thing that he really liked about his outfit, was the cape he had picked out. It had a hood built in, and the coolest part was that it was a nice brown on the outside, but white on the inside. He definitely had a theme going on, which he thought would be good for getting the spectators that he needed.

He did a half-turn in front of the mirror, and was admiring the flow of the cape as he moved, seeing it billow through the air set off a great excitement in him. He felt as giddy as a first year girl, who had just figured out how to make magic do her hair. Or at least he would have if the ME hadn’t popped his face into the room announcing breakfast, at which point he ran out the door and down the hallway and was the first in line for food. He wanted to finish as soon as he could to optimize his time usage. He went through the line quickly, scarfing down his brick bird eggs, which weren’t nearly as hard as one would think, and was in mid-bite when a young girl, dressed in all white with Golden trim put her tray down across from his at the same table.

“Hi! My name is Sandy, what’s yours?” Her sweet voice was happy and inviting.

Unfortunately for her, Ian had plans for day, and they probably involved blasting her to pieces in the arena. Not that she would be dead forever, of course. There were resurrection magics involved in the Arena for a reason, but he didn’t much like making conversation with his adversaries, so that, coupled with his plan-making gave him no other choice than to give her the silent treatment without so much as looking at her or acknowledging her existence.

He quickly finished his meal, which consisted of bacon, and some wonderfully made Tarken toast, and walked out of the cafeteria to be alone in his room.

With the doors swooshing before him, and then after him, he walked into the room and called out to the ME “What would you recommend I do, should I try to get as many kills as possible, or should I lurk around in the shadows, waiting for the end, and then trying to kill the last few when they’re all weak?”

“Well, sir, I think that the spectators would like to see as much fighting as possible, give them a good show, though, and they’ll follow you regardless of what house you manage to get into, if you manage to get into one.”

“Good point, not a whole lot of point of fighting if everyone’s running around hiding from everyone else.” Ian put his gloved hand to his chin as he thought, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “Man, do I look good or what?” he said aloud.

“Most smashing, sir. Might I congratulate you on being the person who has spent the most amount of time in front of that mirror in one day.” Ian wasn’t sure if MEs could be sarcastic or not, but if they could, Ian caught the hint.

“Right,” he took a few strides and sat down in the couch, “could you bring up the list of my foes, again?”

“As you wish, sir.”

“The blue rectangle showed itself again, and Ian glanced through their names, remembering the mental notes that he had made about the different contestants and how they looked.”

It was then that he came across Sandy’s name.

“Could you bring up Sandy’s profile, please?” No harm in doing some research on her, right? Her blonde head appeared in front of him as the blue screen brought up her stats and image. She had her picture taken in a white robe, usually reserved for those who got their power from a deity or cause. So, she probably wouldn’t be too much trouble, but it would be good to know of what she was capable. After watching the highlights of her battle with Gregory, Ian felt much more comfortable about fighting her. She only ever used healing spells. Something that was seriously underpowered in the Arena. Healing didn’t matter if you were already incapacitated or unaware of the upcoming threats. Silly girl.

She did have cute freckles, though, especially with her blond hair that was braided into two braids on either side of her head. Whoa! Where did that thought come from? Ian didn’t really think about girls too much, especially when there was so much magic that he didn’t know, which is why he wanted to become part of The Hundred. Maybe during his eternal life he would be able to find a girl or two with whom he could enjoy a good, logical discussion on magic, but definitely not with a divine mage. Ugh. He shook his head, unable to believe that such a thought would even threaten to come into his mind.

“Could you go back to the list, please?” He needed to get her face out his mind quickly, and refocus on his strategy, which at the moment involved being stealthy and striking at the opportune time, not really leaving himself open to attacks. Hopefully there would be at least some foliage in which he could take cover while he tried to hide.

He looked at his staff, as it sat next to the couch in which he was sitting, the metal glimmering in the light. It wouldn’t be long now. He had precious few hours left until the battle would require him to be elsewhere, to be randomly teleported into the new arena. He needed to memorize all the faces of his foes and their usual strategies so that he could know how to counter them when he faced them.

Chapter 5

The time flew by before he knew what had hit him. The ME popped up on the mantle again, “Sir, might I recommend you get your gear ready, they will be requesting your presence in the main hall in ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” Ian took one last look at the list of names, faces, and categories he had constructed to help organize how to fight different types of mages, and grabbed his staff and a small satchel, also brown, in which he threw a few scrolls he had made quite some time ago. They were of spells he normally wouldn’t use, but might need sometime in the future; you can never be too safe. He glanced into the mirror, shifted his clothing around a little for the best look that he could get, and strolled out the door after making sure that his teeth were white, his hear was stylishly messy –apparently, all the ladies loved a guy with semi-messy long hair –and his gloves were tight and fitting wonderfully. Whoever had owned the gloves before him must have had hands similarly shaped to his. He must have been incredibly handsome, as well.

He finally made it down the hall, and to the cafeteria, where he spotted a few others ahead of him, and turning behind him saw that a few were following behind as well. He walked down the long cafeteria, running the list of names and faces through his head, not wanting to miss a single person, lest he not know what to do should he run into them. He was halfway through the list when he heard feet running up from behind him, and then slow to match his pace. He glanced to the side, trying to make it unnoticeable by keeping his hair between his eyes and whoever was walking on his right. He saw white robes and blonde hair. He didn’t even need to see her face to know it was Sandy. He didn’t know why, but the room suddenly got a lot warmer, and he returned his gaze to the ground, unsure of what to do. The list had left his mind now, and no amount of coaxing would get it back.

How do I get rid of her? He couldn’t concentrate with her around, and he couldn’t retreat to his room like he did last time, so he quickened his pace, which she matched within two paces, easily catching up. He then stopped, pretending to look for something in his satchel. She stopped as well. “Anything I can help you with?” she piped out in here cheery soprano voice.

“I… uh… well, you see, I just… er.” For some reason when she was around he couldn’t put two words together. Why am I acting like this? He tried to quickly calm himself and collect his thoughts. Returning his satchel to his side, he grabbed his staff and looked at her directly for the first time, which was a mistake, for it caused his face to feel really warm. Man is she cute! Then, trying to find freedom to think again said, quite clearly, “No. Go away.”

Sandy looked at him, somewhat startled. “I was just trying to help.” Her voice quickly turned to a dejected tone, and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I’m sorry if I’m a little too forward, I just really liked what you did against Gregory, and thought that maybe we could team up in this match. The others are talking about teaming up against you, so… so…” and at that her eyes started watering.

It took everything he had to not scoop her up into his arms and tell her that he was an idiot and was sorry for acting so irrationally,

(hello my peeps! how goes your day? Hopefully your Sunday was wonderful, mine was. A long day spent mostly writing and napping. One of my writing buddies on NaNoWriMo.org (DnDgeekgirl) semi-challenged me to a write-off today, and, me being the super-competitive macho man that I am had to accept. The result? 5000 words written in a day. Crazy, huh? I've now written enough words to be done with day 6, so I'm a few days ahead, but we'll see what the next few days hold in store for writing :).

Oh! I'm masterswordsmanlink on NaNoWriMo.org if you guys want to follow my progress. It's pretty exciting. I don't really have too many things set up for my novel, like a title, but you guys can recommend something if you'd like to (and even come up with a Title idea :) ). Anyway, hope you enjoyed the read, and I'll try to see you guys tomorrow/later today :D Enjoy your Monday!)

So, yeah... double post... all the way... Don't really know what it means, though

2012-11-04T01:24:00.000-07:00

The doctor looked over his glasses at Ian and said with a sly smile, “Ian, you’ve been in bed with no food or water for three days. I think that, mixed with a head-rush, would be quite painful. I assure you that my treatment fixed everything that could have been wrong with you from the battle.” He glanced down at his clipboard as he continued, “I want you to drink at least three cups of water before you go, and eat a large dinner tonight,” Ian’s stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner, “though I don’t think you’ll need me to order you to tell you to do that.” And with that, he stood up and walked out.

Not needing much more incentive to leave, Ian quickly got up, ignored the headache that came with his sudden rising up, took off the infirmary garments, and was reaching for his cloak, and nearly jumped out of fright when the nurse silently came back in with a tray with four cups placed on them, three brown, and one black. He quickly donned his robe, holding his blue belt in his mouth.

“The doctor wants you to drink all of these. The brown ones are water, and the black one is a special remedy that the doctor set up just for you. It should give you the energy to get to your next meal since you’ve been without food for three whole days. Take that one first.”

“Thank you,” the words came out of Ian’s mouth as he grabbed his belt from his lips, and brought the black cup up to replace it. The grimace on his face came quicker than the taste came to his realization. “Ugh! What is this stuff?” It was then that he looked down and saw the black gloop which he was pouring into his mouth. Drawing the cup away from his lips, he set it back down on the tray. “I’m not drinking that. No way.”

“Sorry hon,” came the nurse’s indifferent toned reply, her free hand now placed on her hip, “Doctor’s orders. At least I told you to drink it first, so you can wash it down with the water afterwards.”

The thought of drinking that sludge, even with a chaser, wasn’t very appetizing, but orders were orders, and he knew the way that the infirmary was set up, even though he’d never been there before. Once you’re admitted, you can’t leave until you do everything that the doctor has prescribed for you to do; it was some sort of ancient magic that had been lost throughout the many years since the start of the arena.

With gritted teeth, and a renewed hunger for dinner, Ian brought the black cup of plague-tasting slop to his mouth, and for a split second contemplated waggling his fingers and making it taste like home-made chicken broth, but thought better of it, He didn’t know how the two magics would react together, and he didn’t really feel like growing a second head that day, so he took a deep breath and held his nose as he felt the slime ooze its way down his throat, where it sat, and made him feel comfortably full.

“See, now that wasn’t so bad, now was it dearie?” the nurse’s voice didn’t sound like she was patronizing him, but Ian couldn’t help but imagine it being there. He quickly downed the three, earthen cups of water, glad for the taste of something else besides death in a cup. After fastening his belt, and grabbing his chain-staff, he was out of the door faster than a herd of stampeding buffalo.

With the infirmary behind him, Ian ran to the nearest car station, which was only a block away, and seated himself in a small, red, teardrop shaped container with a hatch on its side. Once inside, the container’s walls turned clear, and a voice came on. “Welcome, Ian. Where would you like to go today?”

“Take me home, please. I need food. And take the fastest route possible, I have three days of studying on which I need to catch up.”

“Understood,” came the voice, “would you care for any entertainment for the journey?”

Ian thought for a moment, rubbing the fringes of his robe sleeves between his fingers, before answering with “Show me the duel I was in a couple days ago. The one against Gregory.” He wanted to see if what the doctor had told him was true, if he really had caused a serious blow to Gregory.

“As you wish, sir.” As the vehicle started moving and the town around him became the town beneath him, and then the town behind him, a square box showed up on the walls of the vehicle, just in front of Ian. He immediately recognized the forested arena in which he had battled. The small clearing where he was dropped off, and on the other side of the split viewing box was Gregory, dropped off somewhere else. Stealth and reconnaissance, were both important for this particular arena, and Gregory didn’t really have much of either, Ian had learned. Gregory’s strategy was to blast his way through the forest, obliterating all hiding places. The one thing he had going for him was his stamina, both physically and magically.

He was actually one of the older arena combatants, but had never really gotten powerful enough to make the jump to the next level, but instead was held back, and over time had become the “initiator” for the new arena contestants. Even though he wasn’t considered powerful, being one of the oldest he had become an honorary member of the Hundred- the fifth house which held the most powerful and influential arena combatants. These mages never died, supposedly kept alive by some ancient magic, at least while they were still part of the Hundred. There were those who lost their status through losses in the arena, or sometimes even just politics, but some of them, just a handful of these magi had been alive since the founding of the arena, or so the rumors went.

Ian shook his head as the replay of the arena came to the point where he jumped from his hiding spot and threw his chained scythe at Gregory, trying to trip him. He winced as he watched himself get yanked by his chain straight into a fireball. Fortunately for him, he had done some research on his opponent and found out that Gregory was a fire user, and practically never used any other kinds of spells. With this knowledge, he had found a source of water early on, and doused himself in water. He also amplified the fire repellent power of the water with a simple protection incantation that he had picked up in the Library just the day prior.

He remembered the small burns he got, touching his face, where the pain was the worst, seeing as he got it straight to the face. At this point of the replay, Ian was right next to Gregory, which should have been good for Ian, since Gregory was horrible when it came to close range combat, or so the books had said, but apparently his experiences in the arena had toughened him up, for try as hard as he could, Ian could not land a blow against him. Even when he thought a blow would land, it seemed as if an invisible force stopped his blade from striking his target. “Some sort of spell I bet, why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Ian muttered under his breath, angry at his own ignorance in the heat of the battle.

After the initial attacks on each other, the battle slowed down a lot. It mostly involved Ian dodging a lot of fireballs, bursting into flame behind him and causing the foliage to catch fire. This is actually kind of boring to watch, Ian thought to himself. Gregory would throw fire at him, Ian would dodge it, or block it with his own power, forming a shield in front of him, and then launch a sort of water attack of his own against Gregory, never really soaking him as he had wanted to do. The process would continue for at least another ten minutes, if his recollection of time was at all present during the battle, regardless of the status of his ability to analyze things.

“Could you skip ahead to my part? I don’t really want to watch the same thing happening over and over again, especially if I looked that terrible.” I’ll never get the support I need to get up to the higher levels if I keep fighting like this.

“As you wish, sir,” came the predictable response.

A ‘quick flash of the box, and the view of the battle was showing Ian, panting heavily, leaning on his staff. Gregory’s banter came through loud and clear, and that’s when Ian watched, eager to see what he looked like. He wasn’t allowed to wear any outstanding clothing like the higher ups were, so all of his rapport with the crowd had to come from actual ability, not flowing capes, or armor that shined brighter that the suns that orbited the plane. He watched as the power he released during the spell caused small distortions in the viewing box, that would get a few people interested, at least.

He continued to look on, as his arms followed the practiced pattern to release his staff into its chained form while Gregory started his own movements to cast yet another fireball. As Gregory released his spell, just a tiny bead of fire, which, as Ian knew from first-hand experience, would explode when it reached its destination, Ian saw just how perfectly timed his teleportation was. The screen, which was focused on Ian, showed Ian standing still, preparing his spell, and then, right as the explosion hit the area in which he was standing, unless you really were studying the image, you’d think that he was hit by the spell full force, but Ian knew that he had teleported right behind Gregory, which was off the screen at the moment.

The chain seemed to come from nowhere, but latched securely into Gregory’s flesh, and Ian enjoyed watching the smile rip off Gregory’s face as he realized he had actually been hit. Ian’s face lit up with excitement as he watched himself rushing forward, arm poised to strike, being pulled along by his chain. His pose was perfect, his strike rang true, and he saw the light as he released his energy into Gregory, causing what appeared to be a grievous wound. He saw the blood on his blade, and the smile on his face as he landed, just ten feet away, dust still unsettled. He looked like a victor. And Gregory’s face was priceless, unable to believe that he had been hit must have caused him to put a little more juice into his next spell, for the next fireball was not just larger than any which he had previously cast, but also was also much deeper red in color.

The screen cut away as an announcer appeared, “If you’ve seen any other first timers fight Gregory before, you can tell that this new pup might turn into quite the underdog someday. He had an amazing almost comeback, which has never been seen before. And, I don’t know about you, Ralph, but that last trick he did, with the teleportation followed up by a swift attack might become a thing among the fans of the lower leveled duels.”

The screen zoomed out to include Ralph, the other announcer, “That’s right, Bob, but will Ian have what it takes to actually win a fight, sure he’s new and has some innate talent, but will he be able to hone that talent and use the experience that he’s been given to help him take it to the next level? I guess we’ll just have to find out when he has his next duel in a few more days.”

“Oh, that’s right, Ralph, although, I’m not sure that duel would be the correct term to use, seeing as it’s practically a free-for-all for all the new guys. It’ll be exciting to watch, I think Ian might have the upper hand in the upcoming match.”

“Though, if you put it like that, Bob, the others are likely to gang up on him so that he doesn’t end up winning, which would really hurt his places in the rankings.”

“You know, you have a point there, Ralph, but regardless, it’s going to be exciting, especially since the arena in which this battle royale will take place has never been used before.”

“Is that so, Bob?”

“Yup, they just finished building it, Ralph and everyone is anxious to see what it will be like.”

“That’s right Bob, so, stay tuned in as we go over the different combatants and their usual strategies during these next four days before the combat starts.” Ralph smiled and shuffled his papers as the screen transitioned to a guy with crazy hair dancing around with a huge smile on his face, holding a package of some sort.

“Ugh, I hate advertisements. You can turn it off now, thank you.” Ian’s voice almost startled himself, he talked a little louder than he intended, probably because he was quiet for the whole exchange.

“Of course, sir.” The wall of the floating carriage turned clear again, and Ian could see the golden and red leaves of the trees far beneath him as they traveled over the forests of Tarken. “An observation, if I might be so forward.”

“Yes?” It wasn’t like magical entities to give compliments, but Ian figured that he might be worthy of such a gift if it was offered, especially for his first duel.

“That bit was from three days ago.”

Ian’s face contorted as he tried to figure out what the ME was getting at. “Yes, what does that have to do with anything?”

The ME chimed in without missing a beat. “If my memory serves correctly, the announcer said that all the new combatants would be in the battle royale.”

Ian still wasn’t getting it. “And?” came his snippy reply.

“Well, seeing as the recording was three days ago, and that the battle royale was four days from that, and the fact that there is a day’s prep required for any combat that happens in the arena, I think your current destination may be wrong if you are hoping to further your current career path.”

The realization hit Ian like a ton of feathers. Not just any feathers either. Feathers from brick birds. “Please take me to the Combat Center, will we be able to make it in time?”

“We should make it in before the deadline, but only if you make either a fast run to the center, or if you jump out as I fly overhead.” Ian held on as he felt the vehicle changing direction and speeding up, almost perfectly backtracking their previous line of travel.

Ian fidgeted as he sat in his transportation, unable to calm his anxiety about whether or not he’d be able to make it to the center in time. He had an opportunity here that not many new combatants got, Bob and Ralph actually seemed to be rooting for him, which many of the spectators of his sport would take as Gospel and be rooting for him, especially those who were particularly fond of Bob, who had made more positive comments about his performance.

He also wouldn’t get another chance until next year if he didn’t make it by the deadline which was… “Could you show the current time, please?” the time showed up on the clear walls: 76:72... 28 minutes away. If only he hadn’t told the ME to go a little faster than usual, he wouldn’t be in such a time crunch.

Just make plans as if you’ll make it, Ian had to remind himself. Compete in the battle, finish in the top ten, get into a good arena house, preferably one that was on good terms with the spectators- though, at this point anything would be better than nothing- then he just had to get into The Hundred, then he could live the rest of his life in luxury, and not worry about life. Compete when necessary, and just enjoy the luxuries of the Sky City. That was the life that he had envisioned since he was small.

The scenery started to change as he flew overhead, and he would have taken more notice of the farms turning to towns which eventually grew closer, and closer together. Finally, the walls of the city proper were visible from his vantage point. Ian, glancing at the clock, now showing 76:93, could feel his heart start to race; knowing that he was going to be cutting it close, he chose his plan of action. “Go ahead and drop me off at the front entrance.”

The ME’s voice spoke up, “You know I can’t drop you off directly, sir. It will have to be a drop in for you, which isn’t really recommended, seeing as I can be no less than a hundred feet off the ground outside the loading zones.”

“Well, fortunately, the building is to which I am going is eight hundred feet tall.” Ian looked out the window, not really paying attention what he or the ME was saying. The excitement of the plan was already getting into his veins, and he was trying hard not to psyche himself out of doing what was necessary to get in by the deadline.

As they got nearer to the center of the city, more vehicles became visible, and in a great variety of colors. Some people were actually rich and powerful enough to own their own, and weren’t required to travel from place to place via the public transportation which was provided to them by the governing forces, mostly the most powerful of The Hundred.

Finally, after what felt like a very, very long time, the center of the city was in sight. The tower at the center of the city was standing tall, with its ring of magic floating at the center of the tower, being held up by the magic of the land. It truly was a sight to behold, its tall, white walls, especially with the sunset and how it bathed everything in its red and orange colors.

Ian glanced back at the time, 76:96. He was going to be cutting it very, very close. Fortunately, there were teleportation pods inside the building at various points, so he would be able to get around easily enough once he was inside. It was just that, though, getting inside, which would prove to be the most difficult and time consuming part of the whole ordeal.

As the tower zoomed up, Ian prepared himself inside his little cocoon of comfort, and stability, questioning whether or not this really was necessary, or if he was just overreacting.

“We’re here, sir.” Came the ME’s voice. “I believe the phrase I should say here is ‘it’s now or never.’ Best of luck.” And with that, the hatch opened, letting a torrent of air surround Ian as he took one last look at the clock. 76:97. “Thank you for your assistance, may you prove to be helpful to everyone who comes your way.” And with that, Ian looked down, which was his first mistake, seeing all the people walking around, most of whom had not realized that he was stopped, hovering next to the Combat Center in a car. A quick three count in his head, and he leapt to the nearby awning, which was only about three feet away, and five feet down, but felt like twenty, and seventy feet. After a slightly less than soft landing, Ian sprung up, dusted himself off quickly, made sure he had his staff still in his hand, and ran off towards the closest door hoping that a pod station was nearby.

Chapter two

Ian ran up to the desk, out of breath, which surprised him, since he’d only run for about two minutes, maybe he pushed himself harder than he thought trying to get there on time. The spectacled clerk behind the desk didn’t even look at him as he looked through papers, comparing one to the other, and then back to the first again.

“Name and purpose?” his nasally query somewhat shocked Ian, though after a second thought, it made sense, he wasn’t as well-known as he’d thought himself to be, even with the coverage of his first duel.

“Ian Wintergrip, I’m here for the new combatants battle royale,” he managed to spurt out between gasps for air.

The man paused his paper shuffling, looked over the brim of his glasses at Ian, and then sighed. “Sorry, it’s 97:00, past the deadline for the signups, you’ll have to wait until next year for the next royale.”

Ian couldn’t believe his ears. “What?!” he practically strangled the man with his voice. “I thought the deadline was at 97:00! I made it, I did!” He stopped to catch his breath, and that’s when he realized the pursed smile that the clerk was holding and the bursts of air that were squeaking through as he raised his hand to cover his mouth.

(Greetings! Sorry for the no post yesterday, but I was pooped after work, and somewhat indisposed with car troubles and what-have-you-nots... So today, I give you... the double post! MWUHAHAHAHAHA! That's right! Double the dose of fun, in just one day of reading! how is that!? Should I use more exclamation points?! Probably not! Anyway, for anyone else who is writing epic stories of epicness, I recommend spotify and the final fantasy albums Distant Worlds. Both the first and second of these albums are simply amazing, and to top it all off, really inspiring for writing... especially if you've played them.

Is there any video game music that inspires anyone? My favorites would include just about anything from the Final fantasy VI game. I hate to say it, but from my limited knowledge, I like it better than VII thus far, I haven't beaten either of the games yet, and I have gotten farther into the storyline in VI, but I have to say that the main villain feels more evil, and the characters are pretty sweet. Also! Chrono Trigger! ZOMGsh! That music just makes me melt especially this song here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8TbmmKC2QPo if you have ever played that game, and don't mind slightly electronic sounding music (like techno/dubstep) it's an amazing cover, imho. I could listen to it for hours on end, and it makes me sad every time it ends. Maybe I just like the arpeggios/broken chords going on in the background. Anyway, it's late, and I'm rambling, so that's probably a good sign to sign off. Enjoy your extra hour of whatever you choose to do!

NANO 2012! (Or "NANO @)!@ if I'm capitalizing numbers) Day one

2012-11-02T00:16:00.001-07:00

The sweat on his brow dropped to the ground as he stood, slightly hunched, trying to catch his breath. His brown robe was drenched around his neck, and his hood was off to help him cool off. Not that it did much good. His adversary stood before him, standing as tall as ever, with that same smug smirk on his face that he always had. Years of training had brought Ian here, to this point. His first wizard duel in the arena of the flying city. He was better than the rest. He pulled his eyes from the ground to look at his opponent again.

Gregory, the first battle in which any new entrant fought was against this guy. And everyone always lost. But Ian wasn’t like them. He had studied harder and was the top of his class, spending late nights studying the various magics and how they reacted with each other. But nothing he threw at the guy was working.

“Are you done catching your breath, Ian?” Gregory’s high, nasally voice, really bothered Ian, from the first time he met him. “I can give you more time if you need, but you know that the outcome will be the same.”

Ian’s grip on his metal staff tightened. His fingers ran alongi the chains which were etched into the side of his staff as he brought up his grip and straightened his shoulders. I guess there is one thing I haven’t tried yet, he thought to himself. Closing his eyes and punning the flat of his hand down the length of his staff, and feeling the different notches and bumps, he muttered a quick incantation as he focused his energy into his next spell. He opened his eyes just in time to see Gregory running at him, magical energy pulsing through him.

From the gestures Gregory was making, it looked like a fire spell of some sort, though Ian was too focused on his spell to really pay too much attention. Right as he muttered the last syllable of his spell, he felt heat approaching him.

And then it was gone, he had successfully teleported himself in time and positioned himself about twenty feet behind Gregory, a giant fireball erupting behind him. Ian’s robes settled around him as he snapped his fingers, transforming his staff into an actual chain. He threw the four-sided spike which was attached at the end with a quick word, which roughly translated into “fly” in the common tongue, and it flew at the unaware Gregory.

It struck him in the back, Gregory winced at the new attachment to his shoulder blade, and Ian tugged on the chain, this time speaking “return,” and he felt himself being pulled to Gregory by the chain as it magically absorbed back into itself. In the split second that he was in the air, he grabbed the other end of the chain, which had a sickle, instead of a spike, attached to it, and prepared to put not just all of his physical might into the coming blow, but also the rest of his magical reserve, hoping to end the duel in one final blow.

As he reached Gregory, momentum building, he swung out at him; cutting through his dark blue robe he could feel the magically attuned scythe easily slice through Gregory’s skin, tearing the muscle underneath. He let all his reserve out at that moment, and felt the mini explosion as his energy mixed with Gregory’s in Gregory’s abdomen. Dueling Wizards’ energy never mixes well, and Ian was planning on that as he finished with his attack and landed on the other side of Gregory, in the charred grass where the fireball had just been.

Ian was breathing extremely heavily now, but felt reassured knowing that he had just dealt a serious blow to Gregory, and all that was only in the last five seconds of the duel. He was honestly amazed with himself.

Turning, he looked towards Gregory to see how badly he was wounded, but was just barely able to dodge an orb of pure fire as his gaze turned to see Gregory still standing with an irate look upon his face. At least the smirk was wiped off his face, thought Ian, as he let another orb of fire hit him square in the chest, unable, or maybe just not wanting to move out of the way from sheer exhaustion. Collapsing on the ground, unable to even think, Ian thought he heard Gregory saying something, there might have even been a “twerp” in thrown in there, but he was too tired to care.

When Ian opened his eyes next, he had a wonderful view of a great, big stone. As he rolled off of his side onto his back, he became aware of the sheets on top of him, and the fact that the stone was just one stone among many others that all formed a small wall, which in turn became a building. The gray stone set a somber mood, which was broken up by the flickering red of a fire, which Ian presumed was in what looked like the center of the building.

He couldn’t quite tell if it was the middle since there was a white curtain in front of him, blocking most of his vision of the building, but he figured that the least he should do is check it out, since he hadn’t been here.

And that’s when he remembered the duel. He sat up quickly, which caused a huge rush of pure pain to erupt in his head. Grunting in pain, he slowly lowered himself to his bed, with the help of, what he assumed to be, a nearby nurse, who must have heard him rustling in the sheets and figured that he was awake.

“Shh, shhh, there there, sweetie, you’ll be alright, just take it easy,” came her soft words.

“The duel,” was all that he could utter between the grunts, which were quickly turning into a solid groan.

“Well, if you won, you wouldn’t be here, now would ya?” the nurse replied while tucking the sheets in around him.

With his hands pressed against his head, he managed to force out “And where is here exactly?”

The nurse looked shocked as she exclaimed “The infirmary of course!”

“Well, yeah, but exactly where is the infirmary?” Ian didn’t try very hard to hide the frustration from his voice as his hands plowed through his thick, shaggy, brown hair.

“It’s the east side of the island,” Came a man’s voice from the other side of the curtain-room.

“Well, he’s awake, doctor. He’s all yours.” The nurse gave a quick head-bow and quickly made to leave the room. “Ian,” came her farewell as she gave a smaller head-bow and exited the doorway next to Ian’s cloak and bag.

“Doctor?” Ian asked, his perplexed state worn clear on his face. “Is it really so bad that I need a doctor?”

The doctor gave a small, insincere smile, more of a press of his lips, really, as he took a seat next to the bed. “I guess you haven’t noticed yet that your left leg has been amputated then,” he finally said after a brief pause and shuffle to get comfortable.

Ian quickly pulled back the sheets in fright, not able to believe that he wouldn’t feel a difference between having and not having a left leg.

He was both relieved and upset to find his leg still attached- relieved that he had ownership of a leg that was still properly attached to his leg, and upset at the doctor and his laugh-snort that he was doing.

“You really should have seen your face.” The doctor was doubled over on the stool on which he was sitting, “most people don’t give quite a good reaction. You don’t really care much to hide your feelings, do you?”

The doctor’s query shocked Ian. Most people weren’t this forward, especially with a wizard.

Fortunately the doctor continued before Ian could give an answer, making his silence much less awkward. “No, I just came in to congratulate you…”

“So I did win?” Ian’s face lit up, thinking that he had done the impossible, beating Gregory during his first battle in the arena.

“I’m afraid not.” The doctor’s face straightened.

Ian’s face turned a little sour, as he pouted a little.

“However, I’ve never seen a first timer deal such a harsh blow to good ol’ Greg. His insides were all torn up, and he probably wouldn’t have survived much longer than you if I didn’t get to him as quickly as I did. It’s much easier to heal someone up than to bring them back from the dead.” The doctor’s eyes glazed over a little as he looked at something distant, “It’s a lot less messy, too.”

Ian’s face perked up a little at the realization that he had done something that the doctor had never seen happen before.

“It’s always messy when two sources of magic battle each other. Not only does it drain the attacked source’s power, it also…”

“Causes a violent reaction, damaging everything and anything that is directly touching that source of power.” Ian smiled a little as the doctor stared at him, a little shocked. “I read that book. That’s kind of my area of specialization, well at least as specialized as a first timer can be.”

“That’s pretty impressive, Ian. Most fighters are all show and bang, with no real strategy or deeper understanding to their combat techniques. Anyway, I think that you’re fit to go.”

Ian’s look of bewilderment accompanied his next statement, “But I was just in a bunch of pain when I tried to get up, shouldn’t I have more bed rest?”

The doctor looked over his glasses at Ian and said with a sly smile, “Ian, you’ve been in bed with no food or water for three days. I think that, mixed with a head-rush, would be quite painful. I assure you that my treatment fixed everything that could have been wrong with you from the battle.” He glanced down at his clipboard as he continued, “I want you to drink at least three cups of water before you go, and eat a little extra tonight at dinner,” Ian’s stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner, “though I don’t think you’ll need me to order you to tell you to do that.”

(Kind of a slow start, but I figured it was better than nothing. Blargh... Hopefully everyone had a fun and safe halloween. I got to work, but I ended up watching Dracula with some friends who live nearby. It was pretty cool. Really, slow though, at least compared to today's ADHD movies, where no shot is longer than six seconds.

Let me know what you guys think, I know it's a little rough, but I'll try to go back and edit stuff if I ever actually finish a NANO XD. Anyway, have a great day/morning/night/whatever time it is for you now. :D Peace off!)

Three. The magic number. I don't know why, it just is, ok? Also, ignore the fact that the second statement is a fragment... please. Thanks! :D

2012-08-31T21:12:00.003-07:00

Before Lucy realized it, the captain had come up beside her, looking at the orange and yellow flames as they burned in the city. "It won't be long now," he said, almost as if to himself; he then turned to her and spoke in a more direct voice, hair falling to his forehead after the sudden shift, "Lucy, I'll need to take the shuttle-bug if you can prep it for me now." And with that, he turned and went to the lower deck.

Lucy had never known the captain to be in such a hurry, he was usually very laid back and never really gave direct orders like that. She stood there in shock for a moment, both from the fires and from the sudden change in her captain's mannerism. "ASAP, if you would please!" came the shout from below, jolting her to her senses yet again.

"Yes, of course!" She ran down the stairway and opened the door opposite hers. It was here that the "shuttle-bug" - thus named because it was a small aircraft and also for its four wings, two on each side, which flapped quickly to keep the aircraft aloft - was located. She moved all the junk-mostly just old metal scraps and tools - to the side and checked the fuel gauge. Usually it was kept at full fuel, especially since this was the only aircraft which they owned which wasn't the actual ship, and thus acted as the escape boat should anything horrible happen to them. Well, something that was horrible, but not too horrible. It wouldn't do them much good if they all exploded in a giant fireball, now would it?

She quickly scanned the room for the fuel canisters, and, upon finding them, was relieved to see that they were still full. Without so much as a second thought, she uncapped them and started draining the canisters into the fuel containers in the sides of the craft. She had just finished fueling and checking the vehicle when the captain came into the room.

"Is she ready?"

She turned and saw him, two bags in hand, full of clothes, if the sleeve hanging out of one them was to be any sort of an indicator of their contents. She suddenly wished that he didn't have to go; in fact, she didn't even know why he wanted to go; she had never seen him in such a state before. He was still in his evening best, which wouldn't do well for him, especially since his chosen mode of transportation didn't have any sort of canopy, let alone a fully enveloped flight deck. It could pretty much just hold all four of them, and that was it.

"Well, wish me luck! Oh, and if anyone asks, I was at the dance when the explosion happened." The captain stated his last orders as he hopped into the cockpit and pulled the lever to open the hatch in the room, immediately causing the wind to rush up into the room, throwing around papers, small doo-dads, and, worst of all, Lucy's hair. She held it back as she shouted to her captain. "You know that thing won't make it very far! Why do you have to leave?"

The captain just laughed and shouted as he turned on the ridiculously loud engine, "That is for me to know, and for you to find out, though, I can assure you that I am innocent of whatever they decide to accuse me of doing." And just like that he waved, pulled another lever, and fell from the room opposite hers into the air over the burning metropolis.

Without so much as a second glance back, Lucy exited the room, pulling the lever to close the door, causing her hair to come down in a complete rat's nest, but she had other problems to worry about now.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to do it, or even if she was the one left in charge.

At that point George came down from the main deck. "You alright, Lucy?" he asked a voice which was much nicer than his usual voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," came her stark reply.

"We were wondering if you had any orders. Finnian and I ain't ever been one for making orders, just taking them. Think you could figure this out for us?"

Her voice was cool in her response, "Yeah, just give me a moment to think."

"Okay, I'll be up here with Finnian and these other guys then." George turned to leave.

It took Lucy a second to catch on to the second grouping of people in his last statement. She ran up the stairs. "Other guys?"

When she reached the main deck, she saw a group of men, all dressed up in some sort of uniform. All of them red, and, from the looks of it, military of some sort. The usual captain's hat was a dead give-away, along with all the emblems and medals on their chests. They were talking with George and Finnian about something, but Lucy couldn't hear the conversation over the sound of the wind.

"What's going on here?" Lucy tried not to sound too scared as she walked towards the men, walking quickly, but making sure that she didn't look like she was rushing.

"Ah, we were just looking for your captain, miss-" the man in uniform paused to show that he was waiting to hear her name.

"Lucy," she spat out curtly.

"Ah, yes," the man ignored her tone of voice, and put on the nicest smile she'd ever seen. "We've been tasked with bringing in your lovely captain for some questioning at our headquarters located not far from here."

Lucy took a deep breath before saying what she had to say, trying to steel herself before their eyes. "I'm afraid that my captain was at the guild hall. He had a guild meeting tonight, and he wanted to be early tonight."

"I remember your captain never being on time, let alone early." The officer raised an eyebrow, though still kept the same smile. Apparently he knew the captain, for in fact, he was always late, wherever he went.

"He knew this one was going to be an important event." She could tell that he wasn't buying it, so she threw in something extra. "There was also a certain woman whom he was excited to see." That changed that that military-dog's expression. The smile momentarily fell from his face, leaving a slightly confused look, and then it returned to his face, just like a dog to its vomit.

"I see. Well, this does change things. I will be back in some time. Just a few things I need to double check on when I get back," and with that, a small nod, and a hand motion, he and his guard boarded their small jet aircraft, jetbikes, she believed they were called, a relatively new technology, and flew off her deck.

(Hiya! Sorry about the day delay, but a full day of work and being with family kinda stole my day. Anyway, I decided to try write or die, an online app which helps with the writing process "Putting the prod in productivity" as they put it. If you want, check it out here: http://writeordie.com/ I ended up writing 1106 words in only thirty minutes, which I think is a record or something. If I were doing nanowrimo, that would have been over halfway done, yeah!

Anyway, I hope today's part was exciting and stuff. Hopefully you all will have a great labor day weekend! yeah! If you guys ever have any comments or questions, let me know, I'll be happy to answer any and all (for the most part ;) ) Laterz!)

Part two of a most epic tale

2012-08-29T21:42:00.000-07:00

It's not like I want to yell at him, Lucy thought to herself. He really just doesn't understand otherwise.

"Well, I guess this means that I won't be able to repair it then, huh?" Finnian's response came out thick and slow, as it always did.

"You got that right." Lucy sometimes wondered why the captain even let him stay on the ship, but then she always remembered how good he was with making repairs to just about anything; if he could see what it was supposed to be, he could make it that way. Too bad that seemed to be the only good part of Finnian.

"Well, I think that's enough yelling at the grease monkey," George had come around from the other side of the winch and was wiping his hands with a grimy cloth, sporting the same style of blue jumpsuit as the two of them, though his was obviously much shorter than theirs, seeing as he stood barely up to Lucy's shoulder. "Last I heard, Cap'n wanted you down in your room getting prettied up for the Guild meeting tonight. You know how much he enjoys having a pretty lady on his arm." The smile that came across as he said things like this always sent a weird shudder down her spine, but Lucy had learned to ignore it. As far as she knew, George just enjoyed getting under her skin.

She repositioned herself into a regular standing position; she hadn't even realized that she had started leaning over in her anger, and then proceeded to walk down into the lower deck to her room. Not that there was any other deck. Being the only girl, she got her own room, whereas Finnian and George had to bunk together. She fell atop her bed, glad to have repaired the pipe, listening to the hum and drone of the engine next door. She slowly felt her eyelids close in on each other until at last they met each other in the middle of her eye, soothed by the ship's noises and movements.

It was at that precise moment that she both felt and heard the explosion. The shudder that went through the ship was so intense that it threw her out of bed, three feet above the ground. She managed to land on her feet, and quickly looked around, expecting to see a hole leading into the engine room and fire coming from it, but there was no such hole. Running into the hallway, she didn't see any signs of fire at all from the engine room, so she ran up to the main deck, where she was met with orange light and her crewmates.

The flames quickly caught her attention, though they weren't where she expected them to be. She walked over to the railing at the edge of the deck, unable to comprehend what her eyes were telling her, for there, in front of her, stood the metropolis, burning. All of it was burning.

"I guess this means the meeting will be cancelled tonight." The captain's voice startled Lucy; she quickly turned to see him dressed in his evening best.

(ok, so not the longest post, but a post all the same... I accomplished something today! yeah! Oh, and go check out http://moorewriting.wordpress.com/ he's got some pretty cool stuff, especially if you like fantasy. I feel like I'm falling behind my wife, she's already written like 6 pages in her notebook, and I've maybe written 3 or 4... oh well, mine will be more actiony ;) maybe, who knows... hope you guys are having a great one, and I'll catch ya on the flippin' side of awesomeness (it's where everyone flips and stuff) )

Lucy in the sky... with a pipe wrench

2012-08-28T23:27:00.001-07:00

It was an exceptionally windy day. Lucy's fiery hair flew all about her as she retested her safety harness for the third time. The wind was pushing her around more than she was comfortable with, otherwise she would have just taken the ladder to the burst pipe to replace it. Her dirigible of an airship was beat up pretty bad, and this definitely wasn't the first time she'd had to replace a fuel line pipe, but it would definitely be a bit more complicated with the wind billowing by.

"At least I caught it right as it happened," she muttered to herself, "this way we won't lose too much fuel." She watched as the gas, which was spraying out of the pipe, ascended beneath her feet; just a few more seconds and she'd be at it's level. "I'm here!" she shouted to her crewmates, Finnian and George, hoping they'd hear her before she passed by the leak, wasting more time by hauling her back up to the right position.

A few shouts from above later she felt the shudder of the winch as it stopped it's descent. Perfect. She had stopped at just the right height. She followed the pipe with her eyes, all the way down to the stern of the hull and then back to the break. All the other pipes had forked off and gone to their appropriate places, which was good. If the break was in any other place, the other pipes would be at risk of breaking should the gas get on them and then freeze. However, if it had been any further the other direction, it would have likely been inside the ship, which could have horrible consequences as well, especially with the fire that was always on in the boiler room. She shook her head, trying to focus on the problem at hand, and not the catastrophe that could happen in the boiler room.

She reached to her belt and grabbed her lucky pipe wrench, pulling it out of the leather holder she had made for it. She pulled the wrench up to her chest as she was buffeted by a strong gust of wind, causing her to sway back and forth in her harness turned swing.

A moment later the wind died down, and she fitted the wrench to the shut off valve right before the pipe which was broken. She turned the wrench until she couldn't see any more gas coming out of the line, and then turned it more, just to be safe. Any sparks when replacing the pipe could be the death of the whole crew, and she didn't want to be responsible for her death, let alone everyone else's. She stuck her ear to the pipe, listening intently for any noise that would give a hint of escaping gas, but all she heard was the wind as the ship continued to chug through the sky.

She knew she only had a few minutes before the water cooled off and would stop powering the engines, so she quickly grabbed the foot-long broken pipe with her wrench and unscrewed it from its holdings, and put it under her arm as she reached into her bag to grab the replacement pipe. It was at this time that another violently strong gust of wind attacked the ship and threw her into the ship so hard that the broken pipe hit one of the water lines, and dislodged itself from the safety of her arm.

Lucy, instinctively reached for it, but it was already too late, gravity had released her of her responsibility to bring it back aboard the ship. At least she was ok, the safety harness was still holding her close to the ship. She looked down, and then felt a pang of guilt as she realized that they were over a major metropolis. "Well, hopefully I won't break too much property." She muttered to herself again, absent mindedly and returned to her work, quickly lodging the new pipe into place tightening it down with her wrench. She carefully put the wrench back into its home and yelled back up at her crewmates "Bring me up already! I'm gonna get thrown off the side of the ship at this point!"

She watched as the copper hull appeared to descend as she was hoisted up to the main deck. She was greeted by Finnian's nasally voice. "Alright, let's have that pipe so we can fix it in case we have another pipe which decides it wants to go out with a bang." He reached out his hand, which was much larger than his voice would warrant, expectantly.

Lucy unfastened her harness and held onto the railing on the side of the ship as another gust blew past. She answered as she looked down and rearranged her blue jumpsuit, which had become quite twisted up from all the wind. "The wind blew it out of my hand."

She looked up to see Finnian's face scrunched up as it always was when he was thinking hard. "What do you mean the wind blew it out of your hand? Wind won't catch something that small and heavy."

Lucy felt her face get red as her rage came on, "Well, it didn't technically blow it out of my hand, but it blew me into that jerry-rigged piping of yours that's outside the ship instead of inside, which, by the way, you said you would fix the next time we were in port, and then the pipe caught onto the water line and decided that it would rather fall to its certain demise than be on the same ship as you!" She breathed in, refilling her lungs from that outburst, and felt the anger cause the hair on the back of her neck rise and her breathing and heart rate increase drastically. Apparently I'm more upset about the jerry rigging than I thought.

Nothing but silence and a blank stare came from Finnian's face. Then a few blinks escaped, signalling that he was still alive and processing information. GAH! Sometimes it feels like the only way to get through that thick skull of his is to yell at him.

(Hiya folks! So, not quite a continuation of the fable-esque story, there don't seem to be too many people interested in it it seems, at least, not yet. Maybe at a later time... once I have thousands of followers! >:-D or something like that... anywho, this is part one of a story that I'm doing. My wife and I are both writing a similar story with the same starting sentence and the same title (this time). We both thought it was a pretty hilarious title and premise, so we decided to both go about it in our own way.

This is my first real attempt at a steam-punk story, so any (nice) criticism would be greatly appreciated, and any other comments would be acceptable as well... possibly even encouraged. Well, I hope that this Monday has been good for you (or whatever day you happen to be reading this, which will most likely be Tuesday or after since I'm posting at 11:26 PM XD), and I look forward to writing more interesting things for you to read later. Peace off! )

2012-08-19T23:42:00.002-07:00

(well, it would appear that the one vote has it... This is such a historic moment in the saga of all that is great... a moment truly worth a thousand words... not sure if I'll write that much, but we'll see what I can squeak out before I have to go to bed.)

Ungsten reached out with his hand and felt the wood of the spear in his hand. It was rough and felt a little old, but so did everything else in this town. He easily found the smooth parts where people had held it previously and ran out into the street after unlocking and opening the door.

The people were just passing him now, and he looked back to the shop from which he had run to try and find his father. Apparently the few seconds he was gone in the shop was long enough for Papa to lose himself in the crowd. Either that or it was just difficult to see past all the flashes of blue, brown, white, and other faded colors as people ran by him in the street. People looked back in horror, trying to run faster than the quickly approaching shadows. It was clear that they wouldn't be able to outrun these enigmas, as they seemed to gain speed as the crowd became more and more frightened.

Ungsten wasn't one for strong language, but he still felt the bitter sting of a curse escaping his lips as he started running through the crowd, trying to get to where he had last seen his father before the shadows did. Arms, legs, elbows, all were fighting him and his face as he tried to run almost perfectly perpendicular to the crowd. For crossing such a short street, it felt like an eternity. Making it to the other side was another eternity, and he had just started running toward his goal, when he felt a strong tug on his side. He held his hands and spear between whatever was pulling him and prepared to fight off whatever the thing was that would distract him from his quest, but quickly let down his guard when he saw that it was his father who had pulled him aside.

"Don't you ever leave me like that again!" He heard his dad shout at him over the noise of the crowd. His father pulled him deeper into the alley that Ungsten had just realized they were in. He was quickly pulled behind some boxes, and he watched through a small hole in between the boxes as the people finished running past and the shadows flitted by. He almost let out a gasp when one of the shadows stopped briefly to look down the alley, but his father must have sensed that he would make a noise and quickly covered his mouth with his hand and pulled him away from the peephole.

It wasn't long until sounds of screams and blades filled the air. It was hard for Ungsten to just sit there, especially now that he had a weapon in his hand. "We need to go help them," he whispered to his father, which got him a long stare in return.

"What we need to do," came the stern reply, "is go home and get your sister and mother out of the house. That is our responsibility. These people may be our friends, but your mother and sister are our family."

Ungsten could see that arguing this point with his father would have as much effect as trying to have a nice, civilized chat with a donkey. So, when his father shifted to a nearby doorway and tested the handle, Ungsten moved just behind him, pointing his spear toward the entry to the alley, just in case anything decided to peek in on them.

Fortunately, the door wasn't locked, and his father quickly passed the entryway and motioned for Ungsten to follow. He entered the house, but forgot how long his spear was, and accidentally knocked down a clay mug that had been on top of one of the boxes while doing so. His father quickly grabbed him, shoved him inside, and slammed the door shut as quietly as one can slam a door. Another stern look told him that his father wasn't too pleased with the noise.

"We need to move quickly and quietly from here on out. One more outburst like that, and you can find your own way home." His fathers tone was unsurprisingly unpleasant.

It was at this point that Ungsten wasn't sure what he should do. His father clearly wanted his help, but couldn't risk him making more noise and drawing attention to them. There were also people to save, and it sounded as if the towns guard hadn't even been able to be rallied together yet. What was a poor boy like him to do?

(Anyway the wind blows doesn't really matter to me. Should he go with his father, try and find his own way home, saying that he'd meet up with his father somewhere outside town, go to help the people in the town, or something else? I'm trying to see if I can get a poll set up with the options, but feel free to write what you'd like to see happen if it's not up :) I hope that your week is filled with good times, friends, and a healthy dose of Truth mixed into everything.)

A giant awakens from its slumber... or maybe just a human... not sure yet

2012-08-17T21:44:00.000-07:00

Hey-o! all subscribers and non-subscribers (and all you who somehow manage to not fall under those two categories). I'm glad that you're here, reading this now. It means that you enjoy my writing (or just really want to let me know that you're my friend and don't want me to feel bad) and since you are reading this, I thought I'd let you in on what I'm going to be attempting to do now with this blog. I'm not sure how successful it will be, but I'm wanting to do something similar to how this blog originally started. However, this time instead of leaving it completely open-ended, I will instead post a series of options, and let you all vote on it. I'm not sure how long I will leave the voting open (it might vary, depending on my mood/schedule... consider this your fair warning), but I will most likely do what most of the people want me to do... unless someone suggests something so completely awesome that it is even better than what I thought of (though, I don't think that's a possibility... I mean... I am pretty ingenious ;) ). Think of this as a Fable in book form, if that helps (though a Fable with a more interesting story... and harder final bosses ;) ). Anyway, without further ado, here be my new story! (the rhyme was actually unintentional)

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Our story begins, like most other stories, with a boy. A boy who had untold potential. Again, just like most other stories. He is even currently on a farm, working the fields. Cutting down wheat so that his family might eat, and even bring in extra so that they might buy the provisions necessary for the coming winter. The past few harvests had been thin, and his family was starting to feel the repercussions. Mostly, this was represented by the tightening of their belts, but the house was starting to get a bit drafty, and the stove didn't burn as brightly as usual.

Today was just like any other day. There were birds in the sky, soaring beneath the canopy of the white, puffy clouds. The bits of sun that came through the sky were hot, but didn't hold the bite that it used to, foretelling the coming end of the harvest season in the nearby town of Caunden and its surrounding farms.

Ungsten, the hero of our story, and the owner of a very bad name, wiped his brow as he stood straight up, taking a small breather as he surveyed his surroundings. His father was not too far ahead of him, doing the same work as he. "Isn't it about time for us to be finishing up?" Ungsten shouted ahead to his father, feeling the familiar sensation which felt like his stomach devouring everything in his mid-section. His father didn't even look up as he answered him, "Finish this row, and then we can take what we don't need to town to sell."

Town. Ungsten loved town. Or at least he had fond memories of town. When the crops were more plentiful and his papa was able to spare a few coins for a new toy, or even a tasty treat from the bakery or the sweet shop. Now, though, all the money was spent on fruits and veggies, and the occasional chicken or leg of a pig.

With the promise of the end of work, Ungsten went back to work with renewed vigor and quickly surpassed his father, finishing his row within the hour. His father, finishing just shortly after him, started tying up the bundles of wheat. After he finished tying the first one he threw some rope to Ungsten and pointed to the remaining row of wheat waiting to be tied. Another grueling thirty minutes of work in the hot sun, and Ungsten was more than ready for some water. "Go and fetch the cart, I'll get the bundles together so we can both load them in," his father said between swigs from his water skin.

Ungsten dashed off towards his home, where he was sure to meet his mother and sister. They had probably already started to prepare dinner. Slightly out of breath as he reached the front door, he walked in and announced "Father and I are going to town to sell our extra wheat. We'll hurry back, but don't wait on us for dinner, go ahead and eat when you're ready."

"Okay, dear," his mother said as she turned her head toward him and smiled. "We'll keep it warm on the stove for when you get home." And with that, Ungsten turned and left the small shack that he and his family called home.

He walked to the stables for the horses, which he had helped build, and got them hooked up to the cart. He drove them along the bumpy road that ran through the fields of grain which seemed to wave goodbye to him as the wind blew past him.

He finally reached his father, who was just bringing in the final bundles of wheat to the pile. Ungsten brought the cart to just past the pile and hopped down gingerly, eager to be on the road to town, he definitely wanted to be back before nightfall. He and his father quickly loaded everything into the back of the cart and were off in no time flat. The breeze that kicked up felt good on his sun-darkened skin, which was wet with the sweat from his work, and it didn't take much for him to enjoy the quiet as his father drove the cart.

He opened his eyes to find that they had already entered town. He didn't realize it, but apparently the rocking of the cart and the work of the day had made it extremely easy for him to fall asleep. He and his father went to the typical stores, had the same conversations and haggling deals as before, and came out with the same amount of coins as usual, and these coins bought the same amount of vegetables, which his mother and sister would use to make meals for the next couple of days.

And then, as they were walking out from the shop, something that wasn't usual happened. Screams, shouts, and running people came from their left, and dark shapes, which also appeared to be running, chased after them. Following his first instinct, Ungsten ran the same direction as the crowd, though he was still well ahead of them, and ran into the first solid building he could find. He slammed the door behind him and locked it in place. He wasn't about to let those things in here. It was only then that he thought of his father. He had to go back out and make sure he was okay.

Looking around to see if there was anything of use to him, he realized that he had entered some sort of barracks, for there, right in front of him, lay some swords, bows and arrows, walking staves, shields, and spears. Again, reacting to his first instinct, he reached out and grabbed...

(Ok, so this is where we get you guys to decide! :D Should he grab a walking staff, a sword and shied, two swords, the bow with arrows, or the spear and a shield, or should he just leave? You decide! yeah! leave a comment below with your decision and I'll write what happens! :) Enjoy your weekends everyone! )

-Drew

2012-03-15T00:12:00.002-07:00

1st of Obsidian, Late Winter

Dumat, that lazy dwarf, refuses to leave his level of the fortress, so I've set him to smoothing the stone on the residential level. He might as well do something useful, right?

I also started trade discussions with the emissary from our homeland. I'm thinking that we'll mostly need leather and animals for the next shipment. I don't have any hunters yet, so neither do we have a real source of leather. More wood could also be beneficial. I don't want to cut down the whole forest just so we can have enough beds for everyone. It will also help out with making charcoal, if I can ever find the rapscallion that I've put in charge of making charcoal since Dumat doesn't seem to want to pull his weight around here. I need to tell him not to do anything else. We need to start making metal armor and weapons, I'm tired of all the wood and stone. We're dwarves afterall! Metal is in our blood! Quite literally, actually. I've heard from the latest research from our science dwarves that we have more iron in our blood than any other race known to dwarf-kind.

Nothing left to do now but look for that good-for-nothing chum who isn't making charcoal. I guess it's a good thing that I'm starting to not be able to recognize everyone. It means we're growing!

? of Obsidian, Late Winter

Ugh, I don't know why, but apparently this diplomat wanted to meet outside, and so we did, and discussed every little detail about our trading. Apparently he is going to pay best for earrings, splints, and cloth next year. Who knows, maybe there's a shortage of these things worldwide... or maybe getting injured and wearing jewelry is really in now. Who knows, I just know that I lost track of the days and am going to spend the next two or three in bed. I've asked one of the passing dwarves to come shake me if I'm not out in four days. I don't think I could stand to be away from my drink much longer than that, even if I am just sleeping. No one loves a sober dwarf, and I can't blame 'em.

5th of Obsidian, Late Winter

Apparently, I only needed a day of rest to recuperate from my days in the sun, which is good, I guess. At least I don't have to worry about getting sun sickness for awhile now. Speaking of which, I'm setting up a statue in the front entrance, though it's the only entrance, so that people will gather there and sit in the sun at least a few times a year. This will hopefully keep them from getting allergic to the sun's rays. I think the only one I'll have to worry about is Ulstuth, since he'll be the one in charge of digging deeper and deeper for better ores.

Oh, I should also mention that I've set up this statues identical twin in Ulstuth's room for his great service to us. None of this would be possible without all his hard work and good experience. He digs out rooms faster than you can say bottle of mead, and trust me, us dwarves can say that mighty quickly.

Apparently he's also been really chipper as of late. He and Eral, our mason, seemed to have hit it off really well, which I suppose happens when one supplies the necessary materials for one's work. It's good to see happy dwarves though. Happy dwarves are hard working dwarves, after all.

PS, I still haven't seen what's his face to do more charcoal making.

26th of Obsidian, Late Winter

Apparently, no one wants to work the wood furnace, it's haunted or something, but everyone finds something better to do than make charcoal, even if it's just sitting around doing nothing. I really want to lock some people up, but I don't have enough hands to do that, so I'm going to instead destroy the old furnace and see if I can't convince these dwarves to work at a new one.

However, everyone is enjoying their new bedrooms, which now mostly sport nice, smoothed stone walls. The next thing I want to do is get them engraved with epic tales of the history of our fortress, it will be truly epic, bringing in many more dwarves, I'm sure.

4th of Granite, Early Spring year 8

Well, out of sheer boredom, the militia asked for my permission to go on a hunt, so I sent them all away to kill the wombats, badgers, and snakes in the area. I hope they don't get injured, but the likeliness of that happening shouldn't be too great, seeing as their all wearing pretty solid armor. I've even caught them sparring in the barracks, hopefully that sparring will be put to good use here.

9th of Granite, Early Spring

It would seem that the new wood furnace is up, hopefully the dwarves won't see this one as being haunted and actually work in it. We need charcoal so badly to continue our good trade. What good is a dwarf trading post that can't make it's own metal!?

19th of Granite, Early Spring

It's official, no one wants to make charcoal. Maybe I should start bashing in some heads. I'm trying one more place for the furnace, but it's in with the other workshops, which seems like it would make the whole level quite smoky, especially with the blacksmith's shop and the smelter on the same level, but hopefully being closer to their shop will help entice them to work. I've also called off the hunt for the various critters around the area; it seems 10 days is long enough for a hunt for my men.

27th of Granite, Early Spring

Well, more migrants today, and wouldn't you know it? Three more children, just what we needed, as if the twerps weren't taking up enough room as it were. At least there haven't been any goblin snatchers yet. That's why I set up all the precautionary wardogs at the gates. With a little luck, the children will all be safe. I should get some more cages built, though, so I can set up more traps.

The new furnace is up as well, hopefully I can convince someone to work it. I swear these dwarves are driving me crazy, not wanting to work with wood. It's enough to make me shave my beard!

2nd of Slate, Mid-Spring

Well, apparently these dwarves just didn't understand what I was trying to tell them to do. Apparently telling them to go work the furnaces isn't the same as telling them to burn wood. I'm glad I got that figured out, now I just have to figure out what I want everyone else to do.

Also, and I should shave my beard out of shame for not noticing this, one of the new migrants is a suturer. We need a head medical dwarf, so she's the new head medical dwarf. I suppose that means I should clear out a spot for her and a hospital. Oy! I need to get some more beds for these newcomers!

16th of Slate, Mid-Spring

The engravings of our great residence hall is coming along great! Of course, I am in several of these engravings, but on top of that, the craftsmanship is quite stellar. I'm sure dwarves far and wide will want to come to be a part of our great story in the settling of our world!

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and with that, I'm afraid i must call it quits for tonight. Hope you all are enjoying (at least a little) and I look forward to writing more soon!

2012-03-11T03:53:00.003-07:00

So, I've figured out a way to make myself write, yay! I know, I know, don't jump up and down for joy all at once, now, but I thought I'd let you in on my secret. I'm going to be playing a game of Dwarf Fortress and basically journaling from the perspective of one of the dwarves who is there. I don't know what I'll do if that dwarf dies... but I'll think of something. Anyway, for those of you who don't know, Dwarf Fortress is a free to play game that in some ways is like Minecraft (even though a lot of minecraft is kind of based off of Dwarf Fortress); you build a fortress, controlling (to start with) seven dwarves (but no sleeping beauty), and then getting immigrants who you add to your stockpile of flesh :D.

For those of you interested: http://www.bay12games.com/dwarves/ here is the link to the homesite for the game and here: http://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/Main_Page is a link to the wiki, in case you decide to play and have no idea what to do, or what's going on. It is an extremely complex game (understatement of the year, HA!), and I'm just now starting to get the hang of it. I just figured out how to somewhat control the military yesterday (yay!), and have a general design for a fortress down that I really enjoy. Now, that being said, I'm not sure how long the fortress will last (the motto of the game is, after-all, "losing is fun"), but I will stick with it as long as I can.

I got a little bit of inspiration from a similar project called "Boatmurdered" (that's the name of the fortress), which was actually done as a collaboration between quite a few people. One person would play for a game year and then pass it on to the next (though they only had a week in real time to do this, which doesn't take too horribly long). If you want to read about what happened there, here's the link: http://lparchive.org/Dwarf-Fortress-Boatmurdered/ though I must warn you, (as if it needs to be said, seeing as it's on the internet) there is some language. It is quite the interesting story, though. I'll tell you that. Anyway, without further ado, here it is, my tale of Ometducim, or Flukeworks in the human tongue (chosen randomly) and its settling group: äkimuzol, the Brilliant Oil.

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1st of Granite, Spring

Well, here we are, in quite the nice location. We were fortunate enough to find such a nice location, and one that was so close to our original homes! The king thought that an outpost here would be perfect for setting up our new trade with our allies. We've got almost a full year until a trade caravan from our hometown stops by, hopefully we'll have enough goods to sell to get ourselves an anvil. We opted out of taking one because it was so heavy and we couldn't fit much else in the wagon besides it. You wouldn't imagine the beauty of this place though. Trees right next to the river, plenty of ponds, and of course, the promise of stone further down. We'll need to get the basic necessities set up first, mostly a place to sleep and places to eat and cook, but we'll also need to set up proper defenses. I heard tales of one outpost that had a lot of stuff stolen by monkeys, we wouldn't want that, though the dwarves who scouted this location out told me that monkeys weren't to be seen here, which is at least a little relief from heading up this trip.

I've sent Ustuth to start mining, and I'll start chopping down some trees. With a little luck we'll have a place ready for the first wave of immigrants that the town has promised us which will be coming either in Summer or Fall, I can't remember. Regardless, here's hoping that Olin can keep everyone defended until then. We'll start mining with that in mind, so it'll be more difficult for invaders to get in. I want the entrance walled off by the second season, but we'll see what happens. Deduk and Eral won't have much to do until we get a carpenter's and mason's shop set up for them, but we'll have them doing odd-jobs here and there until we can get them into their preferred professions.

3rd of Granite, Spring

Well, today I finally decided to put Olin to use. She was looking a little bored just standing around all day with that warhammer in his hands, so I told him to build a kennel so we could train our dogs later. She jumped right on in, apparently he wanted something to do. Ustuth is making decent headway on digging out our home, but he's not the quickest at mining. He had only been promoted a few times at the miner's guild, but he was the best I could convince to come with us. Oh, well. What can you do?

Oh, I also saw some badgers near our camp today, I hope they don't get much closer, they've been circling the encampment. I'm probably worrying about nothing, but I'll send Olin after them if they get too much closer.

6th of Granite, Spring

Well, Ustuth finally made enough room for us to get a Mason's workshop started. here's hoping he'll be able to start working soon, especially since we haven't found any stone yet. I'm sure we'll find it soon, though.

Oh, and Olin seems to be having fun training the dogs. We've already leashed one up by our entry stairway, just in case we have to make a quick escape into the dark.

PS: I'm really enjoying the hens we brought along. They make some mighty tasty eggs.

15th of Granite, Spring

Well, we've got our masonry up, but still no stone, so we can't really make anything yet, but we've also got the carpenter's workshop up, and Deduk's already working on some beds. It will be heavenly sleeping on a soft surface again instead of the cold, hard ground outside. We also figured that Vucar, our fisherdwarf, could use a place to prepare the fish he catches, so we set up a fishery for him. Hopefully that'll help the stomach aches the men have been having lately.

25th of Granite, Spring

HA! We have just struck Sunstone today! it looks like the surveyors were right. Ustuth took his time in getting there, but it seems as though there will be some fortune to be made here after all. It might not be much, but we've only just begun, and once we've started digging even more, I'm sure we'll be bringing in the dough in no time.

1st of Slate, Mid-Spring

Well, we finally got a bedroom up, no doors, but at least the beds are starting to get put down. Of course, as the expedition leader, I took this bedroom as my rightful place of honor. It shouldn't be too long, though, before the others get their rooms. But tonight, I get to relax in peace.

15th of slate, Mid-Spring

Looks like I get to be sleeping in privacy tonight. We just completed our first door. Now I won't have to stay up all night wondering if Ustuth is watching me or not. Oh, the kitchen and Stillery are up, which is good. Our supplies haven't started running low, yet, but it's good to be prepared. Heaven forbid we run out of drink, the place will go stark mad.

20th of Slate, Mid-Spring

Ugh, I can't believe it. I come upstairs for a quick bit of fresh air, and what do I smell but rotten foot stink. Apparently, Olin decided to leave her shoes, socks, and gloves on the ground when she changed into her armor. I'd always heard that Dwarf men were the ones to be worried about smells, but apparently dwarven women are just as rank. Of all the dirty, rotten... I can't believe I didn't notice it until now. Ugh, I guess I'll have to get someone to take them somewhere.

Fortunately our living quarters underground are starting to shape up, so maybe we won't have to go topside as much. I've got Ustuth digging literally next to a small pond. When we dig out enough space, we'll crack into the pond and flood enough of an area to get some mud down there for our cave crops. Things are going surprisingly smoothly. No more signs of the badgers, surprisingly enough, though a skunk has just been seen nearby. Maybe that's what that horrible smell was earlier. I should still talk to Olin about leaving her stuff around, though.

5th of Felsite, Late-Spring

I'm quite pleased to say that the wall around our entrance is starting to shape up, though it must be tough for poor Eral, trying to make doors, floodgates, AND walls all at the same time. I'll make sure that we add something special to his room to make for all the hard labor that he's doing. Maybe I'll have him make a statue of me to add to his room. Ha, sorry for whoever is reading this. Dwarf humor.

15th of Felsite, Late Spring

Unfortunately, it looks like we're down to our last fish for fresh food. but I guess that's ok because we have over fifty meals that have been prepared by our carpenter. I just hope that they taste good. There's a reason we brought him along, and it wasn't because his cooking was wonderful. Maybe next time I'll tell him to not put the raw fish in the salad. I don't really like sashimi. Then again, maybe I'll just go fishing myself.

16th of Felsite, Late Spring

I like to be prepared, and so I've decided that we should get our trade depot ready as soon as possible. I've set the orders out, now I just have to wait for someone to get enough free time to start building it. Not to worry, though, things are still going really, really well.

21st of Felsite, Late Spring

We've already got an eighth of the wall up, and it's not even quite summer yet. This is going better than all the horror stories I've heard of people setting out to make outposts, only to be destroyed horribly by critters, or even goblins. Ugh, I hear they eat your flesh. Random shudder. Well, I don't want to get too greedy with the trees, maybe I'll start working on some mechanisms soon; we do need them. We'll see.

7th of Hematite, Early Summer

Apparently, it's not monkeys we need to worry about, I don't even know if we'll have monkeys here, but it does look like we'll have some kangaroos and wombats to keep us company from time to time. I didn't think we'd gone that far south, but apparently so. I'd always heard tales of these creatures, but to see one up close, it's crazy. It reminds me of one of the dolls my father got me once when I was but a child. It was a kangaroo with a little kangaroo cub, or whatever you call the blasted things. Maybe when we get some rangers I'll have them trap one for me and tame it as my pet. That would be just too amazing.

14th of Hematite, Early Summer

I had Olin train me my own war dog today. If I can't have a kangaroo, at least I'll have a dog to protect me and keep me company. Oh I am so excited, I knew it was a good idea to come on this expedition, especially as the leader!

21st of hematite, Early Summer

Badgers are out there again today. They were wandering near where Ulstuth is digging out our refuse pile. We needed it pretty badly. The cats that we brought along were killing all the mice, and leaving their bodies to rot out everywhere. While a dead rat is better than a rat anyday, I don't want to be constantly reminded of this fact.

At least we've got the floodgate put in place now. We just need to link it up to the lever nearby so that we can open it when Ulstuth channels the pond to it.

26th of Hematite, Early Summer

I've spotted no less than ten badgers out parading by the new refuse area. This makes me uncomfortable beyond just about everything else that's happened so far. The funny thing is that the sow is leading the pack around. Where are the dwarves that were promised us from the city? I should probably start setting up traps now, just in case they don't get here soon. Not that I don't trust Olin, I just like to be prepared is all.

10th of Malachite, Mid-Summer

It seems that the badgers have wandered off to their next victims elsewhere and have completely forgotten about us, fortunately. It appears all my fretting was for naught. At least, this time. Next time I'll be sure to have a larger militia to take care of them.

On a side note, it seems that Ulstuth is getting quite good at digging. He's already cleared out quite a bit of the huge area we've marked aside as our garbage heap. I guess we're all getting better at our professions.

18th of Malachite, Mid-Summer

They've arrived! I was starting to worry that they'd all been eaten by badgers, but apparently they were tough enough to stick it through. I must go meet them at once!

Well, it seems that my first reactions to the arrival of the immigrants was somewhat over stated. We got a peasant, a farmer, and three children. And while I am grateful for the extra hands, I'm not exactly sure that these are the people that I would have picked. Especially the children. I can't order them around. Oh well, I suppose I should be happy that I have a happy family joining us. I guess I'll order up some more beds to be made so that the children don't have to sleep on the cold, stone floor.

25th of Malachite, Mid-Summer

Well, it would appear that the new family is fitting right in, they got straight to work hauling stuff around, well, the husband and wife, that is. We also managed to get the farm cave flooded, finally, I don't know what took Ulstuth so long. It won't be long now before we have that farm set up properly. Maybe the new gal could get on that, we need stuff to brew, and soon. Maybe I'll even let her husband try his had at jewelry, we need a good jeweler to make stuff for this winter.

I'll be darned, apparently this guy is quite the macedwarf, I'd never thought it looking at him, but he says he was in the militia back home, so maybe I'll add him to the militia if we can get a mace from the caravan this winter. But for now, we still need him to cut up those gems that we've found. I think it's time to send Ulstuth out again, maybe a bit deeper to find more gems.

9th of Galena, Late Summer

Apparently, I chose a good spot for Ulstuth to dig, we found a bunch of tetrahedrite, which will hopefully bring in some silver once we get a smelter going. We need to start burning some wood for charcoal too, so i might have to go up top and start cutting some wood again.

28th of Galena, Late Summer

Medtob, one of our original dogs gave birth today. I thought she was looking a little fat, but I guess she pulled through. It looks like two beautiful puppies are now ours. Someday I'm sure we'll train them into the best wardogs or hunting dogs around.

14th of Limestone, Early Autumn

I couldn't stand it anymore. All these animals, and our wall still isn't quite up yet. I sent Olin out to kill a wombat today. She chased it around for a little while but got it. It was actually quite impressive to watch, especially with her wardogs following quickly behind her. Now I just hope the next batch of migrants contains a butcher.

25th of Limestone, Early Autumn

It looks like another wardog has given birth today. Again, it was two beautiful puppies. Maybe we could make some good money with these traders by selling livestock. It's worth a shot.

4th of Sandstone, Mid-Autumn

HAHA! The wall has been finished! Now we are no longer completely exposed to the elements and wildlife. Those Emus no longer bother me at night as much as they did before. Perhaps I will have Olin have them cut down tomorrow. We will see. The bridge across the river is now being built, which will make sure that the traders can reach our depot, which has yet to be built. I'm a little peeved at these dwarves. I wanted that thing up seasons ago, but no, "we need the bridge first." Either way, it better be up soon, or I will not be a happy camper.

10th of Sandstone, Mid-Autumn

Finally, both the Depot and the bridge have been completed. We are now almost completely ready for the traders, we just need to get our items ready for trade. I've started work on our smelter and charcoal making plant, hopefully we'll get a few more able-bodied people this next bunch of migrants than we did previously.

Speaking of busybodies, everyone is so busy that I've had to send Ulstuth to do the brewing, we're running dangerously low on alcohol. Without it, I fear for our poor little hole's sake. Then again, if it's Ulstuth brewing it. Well, at least bad alcohol is better than no alcohol.

12th of Sandstone, Mid-Autumn

I guess it was that time of year not too long ago, we just had two of our dogs give birth today, one had one, and the other had two. We are going to be so stinking rich, it's not even funny. Apparently we attained a duck along the way. How, I'll never know, but he apparently decided to pop his head out today and greet the world.

19th of Sandstone, Mid Autumn

Today more migrants have been seen off in the distance. I am a little leery since last time it was just a family, but we shall see what this time brings. Away I go!

Well, it seems the gods are pleased with us. We got a total of seven new dwarves, along with their animals, and I must say that we got a little luckier with them. Some of them have semi-useless jobs. We already had one fisherdwarf, we didn't need two more, but I suppose that we can send them off to do other tasks. We got another peasant as well, and, most importantly, a furnace operator. Now we will have charcoal coming out of our ears! Which will be perfect for smelting those ores that we found. Maybe that's what I'll get one of the fisherdwarves to do. It will help boost our productivity, though. That's for sure.

I've also put Nomal, the miller, as our new cook and brewer. At this point, I'm sure anything is better than Ulstuth's "mystery ale."

4th of Timber, Late Autumn

Well, With everything going as smoothly as it has been these past couple of days, I've decided to take one more precautionary measure and build up a second wall protecting our trade depot. I've heard stories about goblin raids, and I don't want to have to deal with that any time soon. Hopefully this will deter them, and if not, well, the more walls between us and them, the better. Maybe I'll set up some cage traps as well. Those things can save lives.

14th of Timber, Late Autumn

Oh my! The trading caravan is already here! I can't believe that they're this early. I was told Winter. Well, time to quickly get everyone getting things to the depot so we can trade. I'll have to be there personally to set up the trading, but I'll definitely do my part to make sure everything gets there that needs to be there! Fortunately it will take the traders sometime to set up.

19th of Timber, Late Autumn

It would seem that my charcoal maker has given up on his job, the ol' coot! I'll have him locked up if he doesn't start soon. In the mean time I've had the lye maker do his job, he wasn't doing anything anyway. We have no way to make lye. Silly people, coming here thinking that things will be a certain way. I think I need to send Olin out to kill a kingsnake that's said to be around these parts. Wouldn't want the traders getting bit, now would we?

25th of Timber, Late Autumn

Fortunately, Olin caught up with the snake, only took him almost a whole week. Oh well, what can you do, right?

The ambassador from home started discussions with me today on trade and the like. I'm hoping that it will go well and that they want things that we can easily and readily make for them. I think we'll need to buy more rope and leather so that we can make bags and leashes. Maybe they'll have some more animals for us as well. That would be good. Then maybe we wouldn't have to buy rope anymore. That'd be even better! Hopefully this will be over soon so that I can get to the trade depot before all the traders leave.

Well, that went well. I ended up trading with the trader for quite a bit. I traded some of our gems and crafts for food, rope, some armor and weapons, and most importantly, a forge. Now we can start making our own weapons and armor. We just have to keep digging. Speaking of which, I managed to get a few picks thrown in there as well, so we can have more people digging now. This is turning out to be such a great year.

12th of Moonstone, Early Winter

The traders left today to continue their trip, though they did leave mention that more traders have been about this year, elves, even humans. We'll just have to see if any happen to come our way. All the better for us. We almost completed the outer wall in the time that it took them to trade with me. Man, Eral has gotten fast at putting up stonework. Can't wait to get him back down in the shop making doors and tables for us.

27th of Moonstone, Early Winter

Those emus are up to something I swear! I'm sending out my new militia to take care of them. It'll be good practice for the boys, and then maybe I can chop them up for materials for goods.

22nd of Opal, Mid-Winter

With the caravan gone, and things going well, I'm afraid I must call it quits for this first writing session. It has been a good time, but soon I will need to worry about having a strong army, for the goblins cannot be too far off. Hopefully I will have weapons started soon. I know I have plans set out to dig out the forge's place, and I have the forge. Maybe I'll have to tell the miner to stop smoothing the stone in the residents' quarters. We'll see. The place is starting to shape up, though. I'm almost not ashamed to call it home.

the tenth day? That means I'm a third done!

2011-11-10T23:49:00.001-08:00

Confused, Rork asked “Then why did you have me studying those books in there?”

Without blinking, Mikey came back with “To show you that you can't rely on everything being true, even if people are good intentioned, they twist things with their own view of the world and their past experiences. And while all together these books might contain the right information, there is too much filth in between the good parts that it makes it unworthy of your time to try to rummage through it and put together the truth.”

“So how am I supposed to get the truth, you don't expect me to read all those and try and make sense of it, do you?” Rork pointed back to his room most vehemently as he asked his question.

“No, I won't make you do that, for how would you be able to pick the truth out of those if you don't know what the truth is?” Mikey pulled at his beard a little and pondered for awhile, motioning for Rork to sit back in his seat, while he sat in the opposite chair. “I am going to take a real risk here. This wasn't done for me, I actually had to go through all those other books to get an understanding for what's really out there. But I'm not a huge fan of tradition, none of the Grand Wizards really are, so what I'm going to do is just give you something, ahead of when I'm supposed to. You have to promise that you'll only practice what it teaches when I'm around, however. There are some very bad things that can happen, and I want to be able to stop them before this place burns to the ground, though, technically it's already to the ground, seeing as we're well underneath the surface. I guess the refuge would just burn then.”

Rork could feel his facial expression changing as the fullness of what Mikey just said hit him. “We're underground?” Rork's question was met with a slow nod of the Grand Wizard's head. “Then how is it that there are lights at the appropriate time of day?”

“I am the Grand Wizard,” came Mikey's simple reply, which was followed quickly by, “There is little one cannot do with the aid of magic. I have actually enchanted these lights to mimic exactly what is going on above us, so that I don't have to worry about calculating all the milliseconds of light that are supposed to hit us each day. It's much easier just to copy in this case. It will also mimic the weather. I used to have my enchantment just mimic the light, but I really started missing the sound of rain on the roof, so I decided to tweak my spell just a little bit.”

Rork's head furled in concentration, “How did you ever do that? It seems so complex.”

“Well, how about I let you figure that out for yourself?” Mikey grabbed a small box from his robe. He touched the top with his thumb, and immediately four locks undid themselves and opened. From this box he pulled another box and spoke the word “Jinsei.” With another click and whir, the box top sprung up, allowing Mikey to pull it off. He set aside the top and then reached into the box. Rork was surprised yet again as not just his fingers, but his whole arm went into the box, which was no more than maybe 2 inches deep.

Mikey stuck out his tongue slightly as he waggled his arm and the box around a little, until he finally exclaimed “Aha!” and pulled his arm out, this time with a parcel the size of a large book. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Mikey started handing the book to Rork. All the answers and secrets that he would find in there. This one moment and book would change his life forever. Was he really ready for it? Rork could feel his heart pounding as all these questions and thoughts barraged him. Hesitantly at first, but more and more confidently as the book neared him, Rork reached out to grab the book.

When he touched the parcel, the entire world started to spin, voices, both dark and friendly were suddenly all around him, and his view on reality warped and twisted violently, making him nauseous. He blacked out as a dark figure came out of the shadows and reached for him.

Chapter 9

When he awoke, Rork immediately shot up in his bed at the Grand Wizard's refuge. His sheets were drenched, had it all just been a bad dream? He saw his clothes laid out for him yet again, this time, though, he had a white robe, not a brown one.

He slowly got out of bed, wanting to forget the things in his dream. Rubbing his eyes, he moved towards his clothes only to find that the robes weren't white but silver, once the light hit them. He quickly donned them and started for the door, but was quickly stunned by a sudden burst of voices. They came from everywhere, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the very air itself. What had Mikey done to him?

He quickly left the room, and not knowing where else to go ran to the main room, crying out “Mikey! What's going on!? Mikey!” but he heard no response.

Nana, however, came rushing into the room, carrying a pail of cold water and a cloth, quickly helping Rork into the chair and placing the moist cloth on his forehead. The voices slowly quieted over time, and eventually Rork was able to sit up. “What has he done to me?” Rork asked Nana, sweat coming off his brow.

“He's exposed ye to the truth, dearie.” Was all that Rork could get out of her. “Now just relax for a little, the first part is the hardest.” She moved away to let him be, but before she had exited the room she turned around, “Is there anything ye would live for breakfast?”

Rork, not particularly hungry after this sudden... whatever it was... answered quietly, “No thank you.”

“I'll check back on ye later, then.” Nana was then out the door and down the hallway, humming cheerful tunes to herself that didn't seem to fit the situation, according to Rork.

He quickly fell into a fitful sleep, not being able to get much rest, and always hearing the voices. He always awoke in a cold sweat when a dark figure appeared, arms pointed at him, with the words “You are mine” always echoing through his mind as he woke up.

This lasted until another portal opened, and Mikey made another grand entrance, this time covered in dust. He brushed himself off, and moved to the seat across Rork. “Ah! So good to see that you're up!” came his sudden outburst when he noticed Rork there.

“What did you do to me?” queried Rork through cold shivers.

“I did nothing but allow you to see the truth. Apparently you weren't quite as prepared for it as I was, and that was my fault.” He took a moment to let out a long sigh, “but unfortunately time is working against us, and you must be ready soon. Even the terrefolk are starting to turn, and they are a hardy and stubborn people.”

“I must be ready for what?” Rork winced, closing his eyes as another burst of voices barraged him.

Mikey, almost as though he knew what Rork was going through, waited for his wincing to stop before he answered Rork's question. “You must be ready for battle. There isn't much time until the enemy will make himself known publicly.”

“The enemy?”

Mikey looked off into the distance, as if recalling something from long ago,“You've seen him, no doubt, the dark shadow in your visions. He no doubt keeps telling you that you are his. He claims that of everyone, especially those who are close to breaking free. You mustn't listen to him, Rork.”

“Why does he think that he owns me?” Rork was, as always, unsure as to what the Grand Wizard was speaking.

“He claims everyone, especially when they gain their magical ability. You remember how yours happened, don't you?”

Rork nodded, remembering the way that his rabbit looked at him with its empty eyes when he woke up that morning long ago.

“And that is why he claims you. Have you ever heard of someone who did something good when they awakened their magical powers? I know that I haven't in my whole life, and I've been around for a bit. He makes this claim because of the darkness that is in everyone's heart from that day forward.”

“Does he have that right?” Rork was legitimately afraid now, he didn't want to belong to that sort of entity, that dark figure.

“Oh, he does, but that wasn't originally how it was set out. Originally we were to enjoy the magic, pure and powerful, but then we were tricked into twisting that magic. Now we are as slaves to it, always seeking more power over it, trying to not be subjective to its will.”

“You mean that magic can actually have a will, it has wants and needs?” Rork had never heard of this before.

“Of course! It's the reason you're here after all, without it, nothing could have been made that has been made, but you'll learn all that and more when you're feeling better.”

“If I feel better.” Rork crossed his arms defiantly.

Mikey smiled, “You will, the magic is already at work within you, I can tell.” and with a pat on Rork's leg, Mikey stood up and walked down his hallway. “I'll let you rest tonight, you might even try talking to the magic, ask for its help through this, it'll hear you.”

Rork really didn't want to play games in his current state, so he didn't bother beating around the bush. “You really are a crazy old man, talk to the magic? Magic was created by man to help with everyday jobs and necessities.”

“That's what the one in your visions wants you to believe, that's what he wants everyone to believe, but I think you know as well as I do, that that's a lie. But I'll let you decide for yourself what's true or not, I just know what I've experienced, and I can say, that what you believe does not hold up to the things which I have seen. Have a good night.” And with that, he walked through a door and closed it behind him.

(Hey all! Happy tenth of November! I hear that tomorrow is a big day for a lot of people, and it's apparently corduroy appreciation day or something, though I'm sure many more people are excited about Skyrim. I know I would be if I had a system which could run it, but alas, I have not as much of these monies as other people do. But that's ok, for I am content with what I have, especially my wonderful, hot wife. Anyway, wife aside, I want to thank you all for reading, and let you know that I hope you all are having a good life filled with meaning. Do enjoy your Friday and your weekend :) Peace!)

2011-11-09T23:56:00.000-08:00

Rork was confused by that last statement, but continued nodding slowly, not wanting to make a big fuss.

“Well, howsabout we get you some training?” Came Mikey's suggestion as he stood up from his chair after several minutes of brooding silence.

“Sounds good, the sooner the better, I assume that is why you brought me along.” Fully rested, Rork was ripping, roaring, and ready to go, and above all else, he was eager to learn new things, especially secrets; he liked secrets.

“Well, first things first, head back to your room, and read all the books in there. That'll be your first lesson.” Mikey lazily pointed back to Rork's room, “Oh, and that's where you'll be spending most of your time when you're not accompanying me on my grand adventures. Nana will make sure you're taken care of. If you have any questions, Nana will take care of those too.” He grabbed a sturdy jacket off a peg as he continued, “Now, unfortunately, I must be off again, for I have a planned meeting with the folk down with the feufolk; I should be back before nightfall, though, wish me luck!” And with a wave of his want, the area in front of him opened into that shimmering circle again, and he stepped into it, despite the fire that was blazing in the portal. Rork could feel the heat from coming from the portal, and it just about matched his feelings at the time. Being sent to his room to study books, and not just that, but all the books, was a little different from what he had originally expected from this great wizard.

Half-way stomping to his room, he reached for the first book that stuck out to him and flipped open the cover. Tossing his shoes onto the ground, he lay on his bed, arms perched beneath him, reading until it started growing dark. He wasn't nearly as angry when he heard Nana come in asking what he wanted for dinner as when he first entered his room. The book was filled with so much information, things he had never heard of before, such as the fact that there were actually eight elements, not just six, and that one of them wasn't even tied to a day, amazing! Trying to take his eyes away from the book was like trying to drag his hand through the pudding that they served at the school on rare occasions, if they could call it pudding.

He managed to meet Nana's gaze long enough, though, to say, “I'll have some mashed potatoes and pork chop stew with lentils and herbs.” Expecting it to take at least a few more minutes he returned his gaze to his book, but was surprised when Nana held the plate in front of his face mere seconds after he looked away.

“Here ya are, dearie, let me know when ye be ready for dessert, and I'll gladly make some for ye.” She just smiled as she handed him his food, and then walked off to continue cleaning the place.

“Thank you!” Rork called out after her as her footsteps grew more and more faint. He wolfed down the stew in less than a minute, despite it being piping hot; it just tasted so good, even better than the Sorcerer's Cup; when he heard the portal opening in the main room. He quickly jumped out of bed, running all the way to the room just in time to see Mikey stepping out of the flaming portal, smoke coming off his jacket. His beard and crazy eyebrows looked a little singed at some of the ends, but other than that, he was completely unscathed.

“So, how are the feufolk?” Rork asked after a minute of being ignored by Mikey.

Mikey, who had already sat down in his chair by the unlit fireplace spoke after a few more moments of silence. “They've all turned.”

Turned? Rork had never heard that expression before, “Turned to what?”

“They are no longer working with us, just as the rest of everyone else is slowly selling themselves away,” came Mikey's brief answer. He started to explain more fully as Rork showed a face that showed that he was dumbfounded, “It started in the far off regions, like your school, and the more remote places of our lands, and then spread inwardly, slowly taking the people and their hearts, until it eventually ended up in the places of power, so much that even the elementals are no longer fully with us.” He shook his lowered head as he took off his hat and threw it onto the hook placed on the wall next to the fireplace.

“Well,” started Rork, trying to cheer up the saddened Mikey, “I'm already halfway through the first book, and it is so full of information, I never even knew!”

“But you haven't read all of them yet?” Came Mikey's query with a raised eyebrow.

Taken somewhat aback, Rork came back with a simple, “No, not yet.”

Mikey chuckled quietly in a way that told Rork that he wasn't laughing because he thought something was funny. “Just wait till you get to the second book, that's when things start getting really interesting.” Mikey slouched a little more in his chair, pulling his long hair over his eyes, massaging them. “Go ahead and continue with your studies for tonight, I have nothing more to teach you at the moment until you finish that which I have told you to do.”

Rork, somewhat let down by Mikey's aloofness wandered back to his room, and cracked open his book again. The time and words flew as he continued reading, learning things he'd never heard before about the magic and how it worked. There was entire section devoted to each element, and his element, life, was chock full of techniques and words to say that would bring him even more power over his element. He finally finished the book late that night, wondering how he had ever gotten along without understanding the material that written in there. Stripping out of his robes and donning his sleep attire, Rork slept, he slept peacefully, and didn't wake until his body had received the rest it needed.

Chapter 8

When Rork awoke the next morning, he found the sun coming brightly through the windows and his clothes already set out for him for the day. He rubbed his eyes and left the bed with a small hop. After donning his robes he was more than ready to start on the next book that was sure to be full of even more help and insight into the world of the magics. He went over to another bookshelf, hand poised to pick out the next one that caught his eye. Odd, he thought, they don't seem to be in any particular order. He arbitrarily grabbed an older book, whose binding was starting to peel off, and flipped it open, scanning the table of contents. What? They only list five elements in here, what's up with that? He started reading, and before long came across several other issues with the book that didn't agree with the book he had just read.

After putting up with half the book, it was already past midday, and Nana came in. “What'll ye be having today, dearie?” She asked with the same smile she had when he first saw her.

“I think just a ham sandwich would be good.” He said, nose still stuffed in his book.

Just like the last few times, Nana turned around and turned back a few seconds later, holding his lunch, ready to be eaten. She held it out to him, asking, “Is there anything else with which I might be of assistance?”

Not really sure of his reading, he decided to ask her. “Did you know that these two books I've been reading don't match up at all? This book says there's eight elements, and this one says there's only five and doesn't mention anything about the weekdays.”

“Sounds a bit fishy to me,” came her words.

“What am I supposed to learn from these books if they can't even match up the facts correctly?” asked an annoyed Rork.

“Maybe that's the question ye should be asking.” Came Nana's quiet words as she started leaving the room, “but you're a smart lad, I'm sure ye'll figure it out, dearie.” And with that, she closed the door, footsteps getting further and further away as she left for her other chores.

Rork, not sure what she was trying to get at just grabbed his sandwich and held it in his mouth as he flipped to the next page, not sure what to believe at this point.

Getting cramped on the bed after a few hours of swapping between lying on his stomach and lying on his back, Rork headed out to the main room, sitting in the big armchair by the fireplace. So entranced in his reading, he was so startled when Mikey showed up in yet another portal, that the book fell into the fire.

Panicked, Rork reached out to grab the book, only to be interrupted by Mikey, “Wait! Don't burn yourself. That book isn't worth it, there's plenty more where that one came from.”

Rork started, “But it's so old and-” but he didn't get the chance to continue before Mikey stopped his words in their tracks.

“That book is full of fallacies and lies. They might have tried to get the right information, but they ended up twisting it and putting it as they see fit, not letting the actual evidence steer their words. Just let that book burn, there are plenty more wrong books from where that one came.” He stayed transfixed on the burning book the entire time, eyes reflecting the fire that was before him.

Confused, Rork asked “Then why did you have me studying those books in there?”

(Hiya! I'm a ninja! just kidding... though I think it would be awesome to be one. Sorry I didn't write earlier in the day like I almost promised to, I made some very delicious sweet potato zucchini pancakes with my wife this morning after a late awakening. I stayed up just a little too late playing minecraft and watching minecraft videos last night >.< Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the middle of your week, as I enjoyed mine. I look forward to seeing you peeps reading more as well. Enjoy! )

eight days in, and 13000 words+!

2011-11-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

“Mikey?” Rork tried to not laugh, but had difficulty keeping a straight face. “That's not quite as nice a title as Grand Wizard.”

“Hence why I took it,” came the simple Mmikey's reply. “I wasn't really one to enjoy being called Mikey-poo all day long by my peers.”

“So you became the Grand Wizard all because you didn't want to be called Mikey-poo?” Rork was a little skeptical at his story.

“Well, yeah, obviously, what would you have done in my situatation?” smoke rose from Mikey's nostrils as he said this, making him seem almost demonic with the fire behind him.

“I dunno,” came Rork's straight response. “I probably would have asked them not to call me that.”

“Ah,” Mikey pulled the pipe out of his mouth and used it to point at Rork as he made his point, “but what if these were the types of people who wouldn't stop calling you that name just because you asked politely? What road would you take?”

Stuck on the question, Rork was silenced for a few moments. After a little while Mikey put his pipe back in his mouth and took a few puffs before opening his mouth to speak, “You're tired. Your room's all the way at the end of the hallway. Make sure you sleep well tonight, you'll need it.” There was a small glint of softness in Mikey's eye as he spoke. Maybe there's more to him than I first thought.

Rork walked down the hallway, question still on his mind. What would he do if someone didn't stop doing something that he really disliked after he politely asked them. Asking again didn't seem to make any sense, they already declined the first time, and outright rage wasn't really the best scenario either, he knew that first hand.

He dragged his bags into his room and left them on the floor, anxiously dropping into bed. He sighed contentedly; this bed was much more comfortable than the slabs of stone that they called beds at school. He quickly fell asleep, dreaming of his friends and family.

“Alright, awake! Time to rise and shine!” The light hit Rork like a brick to the face. “Up! Up! Up!” This woman's voice was more than just loud, it was obnoxiously loud. “My, ye must have been a tired one, you slept with your robe on, dearie.”

Rork slowly started to stir, eyelids heavier than anvils, and realized that he never fully got into bed; he still had his feet squarely hanging off the bed, planted on the floor. He rubbed his eyes as he slowly managed to find the energy to prop himself up on his elbow and open his eyes part-way to see that he had in fact fallen asleep in his robe.

“Well, how about changing into this nice getup here, dearie?” The woman, dressed in a humble tan outfit with a white belt, had set out some of Rork's clothes for him to wear, under garments included; he flushed slightly, not being used to having anyone, let alone a woman see those. “I'll leave ye to change, let me know if ye have any troubles, or need to know where anything is.” And with that, Rork was left alone in his room.

He glanced about, not really sure what all was there, for there was indeed a lot. He saw books crammed in bookshelves all over, and his bed was across from the door. There was even a small bookcase that extended down from the ceiling. It was a weird room, the material of the walls almost looked like a smooth stone, and there was a desk on the far side, opposite the bed. The room itself was probably no bigger than two hundred square feet, but it felt so large, much larger than his little closet of a room back at school. He even noticed a couch next to the door that he hadn't seen on his way in last night. All the furnishings were rustic colors, apparently Mikey didn't much care for the flamboyant, gaudy style.

After stripping down and putting on his fresh robes, Rork left the room and walked back down the hallway to the room where he had first entered the Grand Wizard's home, or getaway, or whatever this place was. The woman was in the corner, dusting one of the tables which held the skull of some creature unknown to Rork, and it almost looked as though there were some sort of grayish liquid in it.

The woman, realizing Rork's presence as he stepped into the room, turned around. “Well, you look much better now, dearie, what would you like for some breakfast? Just name it and I'll prepare it for you.” She really was a pleasant one, always showing a smile.

“Umm, how about some eggs and bacon? Oh! And a glass of milk?” Rork had no idea what time it was, but judging by his hunger, it was well past noon, and also well past the regular hours for breakfast, not that he was one to complain.

“Alright, it'll be just a moment.” The woman turned around, and after a brief flash of smoke, she turned back, warm plate in hand with eggs and bacon on it, steaming, and a glass of milk in the other hand, condensation falling from the glass as she handed it to him.

Rork didn't realize he was standing there with a slack jaw. “How is that possible? You just brought something from nothing, and some really complicated somethings at that.”

She just winked at him as she said “It's just a matter of mixing magics, that's all, anything is really possible if you think about it for a little while.” She motioned with her hands, hinting that Rork should grab the plate and glass from her.

Rork took the food receptacles and sat down in the chair. Cramming a huge bite of eggs into his mouth, his face melted into a content smile as the warm eggs slid down his throat, leaving a trail of pure bliss and tastiness. “These are great!” he nearly shouted as he stuffed another mouthful of eggs into his mouth, followed shortly by a bite of the best bacon he'd ever tasted before. It was chewy, and yet still had a crisp crunch to it at the same time. He didn't wonder about this paradox, however, for he was too happy to be eating such good food that he didn't have time to figure out the properties of crunch to chew ratios and how tasty they are.

He gulped down half the glass of milk in two swigs, and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Pausing for a moment to take in the taste of everything, he asked the woman, who had returned to her dusting, “So, where's the Grand Wi- I mean Mikey?”

“Oh, he had some important affairs to attend to early today, but he should be back shortly, dearie.” She moved her hand to right beneath her lower lip and made a rubbing motion while looking at Rork, who quickly caught on and rubbed the little bit of milk that was hanging off his lip.

“So, what exactly does the Grand Wizard do?” Rork had never actually heard what the Grand Wizard did, just that he was able to control all six elements.

“Oh, I think he'll tell ye when the time is right, come now, finish your meal before it gets cold.”

Rork, not needing a second reminder, dug into his food with renewed vigor, and washed it all down with the remainder of his beverage, letting out a huge, content sigh as he reclined further into the chair in which he was sitting.

He didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep, but he was awoken suddenly by the clomping of boots on the stone floor. He looked around suddenly, noticing that his plates had been taken away, and there stood Mikey, sopping wet, with streams of water running off him. “Well, Nana's gonna have a fit about this one.” He looked at the chair where Rork was sitting and smiled. Then, without any sort of reason, steam started rising off Mikey's gray robe and white hair. Rork sat up a bit as it continued, not sure of what was going on.

“Oh,” spoke up Mikey as he realized that Rork must have been somewhat worried, “don't worry, I'm just drying off after a bit of a swim. Unfortunately, it seems that more of these attacks are happening, even in the secluded areas of the merfolk.” He took off his hat and twisted it, dripping even more water onto the floor. As the steam slowly stopped, he reached out his hand and drew the skull to him from the table in the opposite corner of the room. He made a quick motion and the water from the floor flew up and, with a second motion of his hand, landed neatly in his cup, which he then downed in one swig.

“Now that just warms the body right down to the soul.” He sat down in the chair opposite Rork and pulled out his pipe, lighting it with a match on the table. “So, I trust that you slept well?”

Rork slowly nodded his head, not quite sure what to make of everything that had just happened.

“Well, it is a very comfy chair, I've fallen asleep there many a time, though Nana usually comes in and shoos me off to bed when I do.”

“Is that the lady who was cleaning around here earlier and made me breakfast?” Rork asked.

“Well, it better have been, or else we've got an intruder here,” came Mikey's reply with a wink. “She probably got your clothes set out for you too, huh? Yeah, she does a very nice job of keeping this place clean, I would be nothing without her, I'd have too much stuff to take care of here, I'm a real slob. Do, please, be nice to her, she is a wonderful woman, and you'll learn much from her, maybe even more than you'll learn from me.”

Rork was confused by that last statement, but nodded slowly, not wanting to make a big fuss.

(greetings again my faithful followers. I hope you had a great day! I don't work tomorrow, so I just miiiiight be able to sneak out the next 1667 words before just before midnight. Also, I hope you all are enjoying the way I've decided to take it, and if you're not, well... too bad, it's my story ;) . Seriously, though, do feel free to leave comments or ideas on where you might think it would be good to take the story. Also, a shout out to my wonderful wife, who puts up with me writing after I get home from work instead of helping out with dinner as much as I usually do, she's amazing, and hopefully all those with wonderful wives out there will understand this need to make it known that I have a wonderful wife. I love you, sweetie :) . Anywho, enjoy your middle of the week, and I look forward to posting for you all again tomorrow, so don't change the channel. Laterz!)

To the 7th NaNoWriMo! And beyond!

2011-11-07T23:53:00.000-08:00

There was one table left, and they quickly snatched it before anyone else could, even though it was in the corner, where they weren't very likely to get much attention from the wait staff.

“Well, what else are you going to do, Mr. Spontaneous?”

“Well, first,” Rork opened his menu, which caused Akara to open her eyes in mock shock, “I think I'm going to try the,” Rork stopped speaking as he put his finger on the menu and moved it around randomly, and then opened his eyes when he stopped his finger, face dropping slightly as he realized what he had picked, “Pork chop stew?”

Akara giggled at the irony of the situation, “Well, I won't tell anyone what you landed on, just that you chose your meal randomly.”

“Thanks. Though, I really was almost looking forward to trying something new.”

It was almost half an hour before a waiter noticed them and took their order, but they didn't really care, or notice for that matter; they were too busy talking about this and that. The lunch went on wonderfully; the food was better than expected, which was saying something, as the Sorcerer's Cup was already known for their lunch menu. After they finished their meal, and Rork offered to pay for Akara's meal, they headed back to the school. It started snowing when they were about halfway back.

Akara hadn't really noticed it, since she had been talking most of the time on the return trip home, so Rork quickly made a connection with a nearby tree. He moved one of the branches back, the one which was the most heavy laden with snow, and then released it, with perfect timing as Akara walked by, and smacked her in the face with a huge clump of snow.

His smile of delight quickly faded, though, as she became furious, which was not what he was going for at all. “Sorry,” he started to say, but it was too late, the fire was already in her eyes, and he jumped back as a small sphere of fire puffed out, away from her, drying her face and clothes, as well as singeing the ends of Rork's hair.

“Don't ever, EVER, do that again.” With some force of will, it seemed that she managed to put her ferocity away, and she seemed somewhat normal for the rest of the night, but Rork was still cautious around her. He really didn't want to see that again. What really made him worried was that she didn't even have a source of fire, nor her staff on her. If she had either of those, she would have definitely been able to do much more than just singe his hair.

They reached the school, this time the silence was ringing in Rork's ears as they took the steps up to the main entrance. “Well, thank you for the fun time, I've only got a little while until the Grand Wizard is supposed to pick me up, I hope that your next level of training goes well for you. You better study hard though, cuz I'm going to be studying under the best wizard ever, so unless you want to get left behind...” Rork left the message at that, trying to end on a positive note instead of a sad, sappy note.

Akara caught the hint. “You better believe I'll study hard, there's no way a softy like you will ever be able to catch up to me.” And just like that, she ran up the stairs and disappeared into the school.

Chapter 7

The time until the Grand Wizard's coming flew by more quickly than Rork thought it would, and probably faster than he wanted it to. He wanted to cherish these last few moments with his friends and classmates, he knew he wouldn't see them for awhile, but he didn't know just how long that time was going to be. He was excited, though, for being with the Grand Wizard, he knew that he would experience great things, and also learn how to master all six elements. There must be some secret to gaining this ability; maybe it was a time magic lost to most through the ages which allowed the user to study and practice in a time between the time. Or perhaps it was a sacrifice to demons which opened up one's abilities to their potential. Rork had heard of people trying this before with some success, but he really didn't think he could go that far, there were always repercussions, and not very pretty ones at that.

That's how Rork spent most of these last days, wondering about what was going to happen, and how it would happen. Finally, the night before he was to be taken away came, and Rork made sure he had everything ready. He had already written a letter to his mother and sister, and his things were all packed up as tightly as he could get them in his packs. He'd even added more energy to his staff; he wanted to make sure that he was as stocked up on energy as he could be.

He went to bed, trying to get to sleep, but tossed and turned from the excitement and anxiety of the unknown that tomorrow would bring.

He finally fell asleep.

He had been asleep for what felt like seconds when all of a sudden voices could be heard in the hallway, some screaming, some shouting, but all of them shared the same intensity. Somewhat annoyed, seeing as it was way past sleeping hours, Rork got up, only to stand up as his door burst in. There, in his gray robe, stood the Grand Wizard, staff in hand, beard following the current of the air as the door, once again, swung off its hinges.

“Woah!” Exclaimed Rork, quite surprised, as he fell back on his bed. “What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here till tomorrow.”

“In case you haven't noticed, it is tomorrow, now hurry up and get your things, we gotta get out of here.” There was slight panic in his voice as the Grand Wizard said this. “Now,” he added, with a motion of his head nodding towards the door.

Grabbing his things, he quickly donned his bags and sacks, and followed his master out the door, only to see a giant fireball explode in front of them right as he left the protection of his room. Fortunately, the Grand Wizard was there to dissipate it with water before it could do anything. Launching another attack at the red and black robed man who had apparently conjured the fireball, he lit up the entire hallway in front of him with a bright flash, causing the man to fall back, hands over his eyes.

“They're further along than I had hoped. Come, they're after you, we need to get you to safety.” The Grand wizard grabbed Rork's arm and closed his eyes, saying incantations and tracing a pattern in the air with his staff. In front of them appeared a small ripple, which distorted the things behind it, causing them to get wavy and disappear as the area grew larger in circumference, finally forming a circle about seven feet in diameter. A room could be seen through is, and the edges of the circle shown a bright silver and blue mixture. Without saying anything, his master walked through, and tugged him along with him.

He felt no different than normal as he exited the portal into the room. “Huh, I always though teleportation would feel more, I dunno, abnormal.”

The Grand Wizard just went to the fireplace, and used flint and steel to start a small fire in the fireplace. “It all depends on how you teleport. With water, it's not too weird, light gets a little funky, and fire burns a little bit.”

“So, what was all that, back at the school, who was trying to get me?” Rork had a flood of unanswered questions at this point, and while he knew some answers would have to wait, he wanted to know what he could at this point in time.

“They are those who believe that they own you.” Came the slow response after several long moments of silence. The Grand Wizard just stood and looked at Rork for a few minutes; the only action he took was to grab a pipe and light it while sitting down in a giant red armchair. Finally, he motioned for Rork to sit in the seat across from him. “And please, do make yourself at home; you will be living here for some time after all.”

That's not quite the answer for which I was looking. “So, why do they think they own me?” This seemed like a good place to start to Rork, might as well get the basics out of the way, right?

“Good question, my boy, but, unfortunately, that is a question I will have to answer at another time. However, I do know the answer to one of your questions.”

Rork sat up a little straighter, excited to learn some sort of secret knowledge that had been passed down from secret keeper to secret keeper through the generations.

“The bathrooms right behind you, second door on the left.”

Rork, sitting there bewildered, suddenly realized that he did, in fact, need to use the restroom. Must have been all that warm milk I drank trying to help me sleep, he thought as he dropped his bags and opened the door to which his master was pointing.

After washing up, he returned out into the main room. The Grand Wizard was deep in thought, and didn't notice Rork walk up next to him. He jumped slightly as Rork asked “So, what should I call you? It seems like saying 'Grand Wizard' or 'Master' all the time will get a little tedious.”

Gaining his senses again, the Grand Wizard replied, “Mikey, that will do.”

“Mikey?” Rork tried to not laugh, but had difficulty keeping a straight face. “That's not quite as nice a title as Grand Wizard.”

“Hence why I took it,” came the simple reply of Mikey.

(Not quite sure where it's gonna go from here, this is always the part where I have difficulty, trying to figure out where to go with the basic background info taken care of. Hopefully you all are liking it, and it should be less Harry Potter-ish from now on, hopefully that won't disappoint too many of you ;). Anywho, nothing too major going on besides writing and work, and Minecraft. I got back into that again. A friend and I are both working on it, as is my brother. It's pretty cool. We've already got a portal to the nether world, and it's gonna be awesome! Anyway, hope your Monday was great[it's called Getsuyoubi in Japanese] and hope your Tuesday [kayoubi, I believe] is even better! )

Day 6, WHAT? 10k words? O.o

2011-11-07T00:06:00.001-08:00

And with that, the world faded, and Rork sprung up in his bed, wide awake. Seeing the sun coming through his window, he quickly exclaimed, “Oh no! What time is it?” knowing that he was supposed to meet Akara for lunch at the Sorcerer's cup.

He quickly threw on some clothes, not caring what they were, stuffing his feet into his boots just after he had pulled his pants on, all while trying to get a shirt on the other arm. Looking in the mirror, he quickly brushed his hair with his hand, trying to get the mad locks to lay flat.

Suddenly, Donnie's voice broke the mad rush, “Sorry, but you really can't do your hair very well, even if you spend all night on it.”

Rork just rolled his eyes and continued with his routine, putting his scarf around his neck, and then tying it, loosely to keep his warmth in, it looked cold out there today after all, at least from the brief glimpse he'd gotten from his window.

“You want to come to the Sorcerer's Cup with Akara and me today?” Rork asked, hopeful that Donnie would come, he had been rather depressed as of late, since he failed his final, and this seemed like a good opportunity to bring him back around.

Donnie was silent for a moment before he opened his mouth, “No thanks, I really would love to, but I can't exactly afford it at the moment.”

“I can pay for you, if that's what you need.” Rork really didn't want to leave one of their group out if he could help it, and so, even with the hefty prices, he wanted to make sure that that wasn't the reason Donnie didn't eat with them.

“I really meant the time; I have to study my butt off for my next attempt.” Donnie put his hand behind his head, and messed his hair around a little before continuing, “But you should enjoy your time with Akara, it's not everyday that you get the chance to have a one on one date with her.” Donnie raised his eyebrows scandalously as he spoke up again, “maybe you'll even get a kiss at the end of it.”

Thinking back to his dream, Rork winced slightly. “Nah, I don't think it'll happen.”

“Well of course it won't,” exclaimed Donnie, suddenly, “Not if you keep that attitude up! Where's the gung-ho Rork I used to know? Always trying to impress Akara and make her yours? What's wrong, man?”

“I've just been going through a lot lately. This whole apprentice thing is really starting to weigh down on me.”

“It's only been a few days, and you're already feeling bogged down?” Donnie stood up straight from his leaning position which he had taken on the door frame to Rork's room.

“It's not necessarily bogged down, I'm just,” Rork couldn't think of the word he wanted to use. “He's a bit of an eccentric teacher. Let's just put it that way. He also has a very weird, and sometimes slightly cruel sense of humor.”

A simple “Ah,” was all that Rork got out of Donnie.

A few moments of awkward silence followed, until Rork couldn't handle it anymore, “I should probably get going, don't want to keep Akara waiting.” He moved past Donnie, and through the door. “Good luck with your studies.”

“And good luck on not getting kissed.”

Chapter 6

“There you are! I thought that I'd end up walking to the Sorcerer's cup by myself.”

“Glad to see that you're in as cheerful a mood as ever, Akara.” Things are already not going well.

The walk to the restaurant went by slowly, seeing as neither of them really had much to say. Why didn't Donnie come with me? I should have said I would help him study. Anything to stop this silence. If there was one thing he was good at, Donnie was definitely one to keep the conversation going.

Suddenly, as though a random flash of inspiration had come across her, Akara spoke, “So, how did you figure out that you were able to control magic?”

Woah! Thought Rork, talk about random. “Ummm, well, I suppose it was probably when I was really young, and my pet rabbit had died, he was all that I had left of my father, since he left one day and never returned, and I really didn't want him to die. I cried and cried and cried for so long, I was only four mind you, I didn't know any better, and finally wished that he would come back to life. Just imagine my surprise the next day when the next morning he was actually alive and jumping around his cage.”

Akara was somewhat wide-eyed. “You mean you brought something back to life, without any actual training?”

“Well,” Rork paused, trying to not make the next point sound as bad as it could have. “I may or may not have actually turned it into an undead rabbit.”

Akara's eyes got even bigger, and Rork thought they were already quite large. “You performed one of the unforgivable magics?”

“Look, I was four and didn't know what I was doing. My mom killed the rabbit when she saw it, before it had the chance to eat any of our brains and turn us into the walking dead. I don't really like to talk about it because of the stigma that goes along with it. I mean, you know me, I'm not some crazed necromancer, prancing about talking about my undead army, and trying to take over the world.”

Akara's face returned to a somewhat normal state, although her eyes were still somewhat more open than they usually were.

“Please don't tell anyone, I really don't want people thinking poorly of me.”

Akara just nodded, with the same expression on her face, as she stared straight forward.

As the silence started to build up, Rork couldn't take it. “So how about you? When did you know that you could control magic?”

Akara looked away for a second, as though collecting her thoughts, then faced forward again, jaw set, and said “I was in the living area of a home, it wasn't mine or my family's, we were staying there with other people, and we were getting warm by the fire. The room was getting cold, and the fire was dying; it must have been below freezing outside. Eventually, the room was so cold that we could see our breath, and the fire was on its last legs. I guess I just kinda wished that the fire would grow, and keep us all warmer, and it did just that,” the look in her face grew distant as she finished faintly, “it grew.”

“I guess that explains how you figured out what your main element was.” Rork was pretty excited, this wasn't the stuff you hear everyday. Not everyone was willing to share how they figured out that they were a wizard, it was usually graphic, or involved a tragedy of some sort, and he had never heard Akara's story before. “So, what brought that question around?”

Akara shook herself out of her daze, “Huh? What? Oh, I dunno, I was just curious, I guess. I've known you for a few years now, but I've never heard your story.”

“Oh, look, there's the restaurant! What do you think you're gonna get? I'm thinking about the pork chop stew with the lentils and herbs. It's my favorite!” Rork was excited at the thought of this dish, it had been some time since he had enjoyed its wonderful taste.

Akara allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips. “Rork, you always get that dish, we know it's your favorite.”

Rork, feeling somewhat silly, decided to play coy, “Well, excuuuuuuuse me, for finding something I enjoy and sticking with it, miss have-to-try-everything-on-the-menu-before-I-can-decide-what-my-favorite-thing-is.”

She just shook her head and sighed as he acted and moved very dramatically as he said this. He quickly ran to the door, grabbed it, and being the gentleman that he was, held it open for her. “Ladies first.”

The scene was familiar, as it usually was; it was packed again, so much so that they even had to open up the second floor to seat everyone. Rork and Akara instinctively started walking towards their favorite seat, and it wasn't until Akara took off her coat, that Rork caught a bad feeling.

She was wearing the exact same outfit as she was in his dream.

Grabbing her arm, he stopped her, and recommended “Why don't we sit up on the second floor this time, we never have before, and it might be nice for a change.”

She looked at him funny, slightly confused, saying “Alright, who are you, and what have you done with Rork? You never want to try anything new.”

“No, I'm serious,” came his soft reply, “I just think it might be kind of fun. Don't get me wrong, I love that booth, but I think today, seeing as it's a special occasion calls for a special treat.”

With a slanted smile, and a shake of her head, Akara hung her coat over her arm and started walking towards the stairs. “Alright, but if there's something up there that you've done to try and win me again, so help me, I will knock your teeth out, and you won't be able to grow those back in.” The last bit she said with a glare, though there was a little bit of softness in her eyes that Rork could see.

“Well, as usual, ladies first. Rork motioned for Akara to lead the way, and she did just that, curtsying slightly, in a way that was overdone, making fun of most people who act with such pompous behavior.

There was one table left, and they quickly snatched it before anyone else could, even though it was in the corner, where they weren't very likely to get much attention from the wait staff.

(Hey-o! Glad you all could make it, here it is, the next installment. Enjoy, conquer, divide, and pillage! Maybe not necessarily in that order, but definitely do enjoy, or try to. Thank you to those who are reading, it brings me great joy to know that there are at least a few people who like the story enough to keep reading it. Have a great week!)

And thus it continues, NaNoWriMo the fifth! >:D

2011-11-06T10:53:00.000-08:00

Chapter 5

The next few days brought nothing of importance, besides Akara passing her final exam. Everyone in Rork's level was enjoying the free time after the finals and having a good time at the restaurants and shops that were near the school. Most of them had gotten money or other treats as a way of celebration for the passing of their third level exam. Everyone except Donnie, that is, who was stuck inside studying for his next attempt at his final, with no treats to call his own.

“I almost feel badly for him,” Rork revealed to Akara as he moved to his favorite booth at the Sorcerer's Cup, one of the better restaurants that was still close enough to the school to walk. They both took off their coats and placed them on the coat hangers on the ends of the benches at the booth.

“Whoa!” Rork exclaimed in sudden surprise. “I've forgotten how great you look when you're not wearing your school robes.” Not until after he saw the small fires of anger ignite in her eyes did he realize the full meaning of what he had just said. “Sorry, that's not what I meant! I just...” But he couldn't finish in time to ward off the blow, the damage had already been done, and the smack on the arm was harder than it normally was. Well, that's a fine way to start off this rare evening alone with Akara.

Looking for a quick change of subject, Rork went with the usual. “So, what did you have to do for your final?”

Akara's answer was somewhat curt and straightforward, “You know as well as I that I can't disclose that information to those who haven't yet passed that final.”

“Oh, come on, I'm the Grand Wizard's apprentice for crying out loud; I don't think that rule still applies to me, I don't think I'm even technically enrolled at the school anymore,” Rork pleaded, hoping to get at least a hint of something or a little slack.

“Rules are rules.” Mentioning the fact that he had been chosen to be the Grand Wizard's apprentice didn't seem to cheer up Akara at all. Is she feeling jealous as well?

“So cold. At least you could tell me about your final last year, what did they have you do?”

With a roll of her eyes, and a tone of voice that bordered on whiny, she said, “They had me melt down some iron ore with nothing but a candle, it really wasn't that difficult.” She crossed her arms, obviously upset about something, “When is that waiter going to get over here? We've already been here for like five minutes, what's his deal?”

“Calm down, sometimes it takes awhile, you know that, and the place is packed, I mean, they even opened up the second level today; I don't think this is something over which you should get worked up.” What's with her? He wondered.

“I really just want to get something to eat is all.”

Not wanting to deal with an upset Akara, Rork raised his hand to get the attention of the waiter as he passed by, but he just kept on walking, not even giving him a second glance or reassurance that he would be right back. “Huh, that's weird,” Rork mumbled to himself. Again, he tried to catch the attention of the waiter as he passed by, but with no luck. He looked across the table at Akara, but she was looking off into the distance, not paying any attention to him.

This time, as the waiter came around, rork decided to get up and block his path, hoping to force the waiter to stop, which he did, except that the waiter ended up running straight into him, causing a huge mess as food flew left and right, landing on people's clothes, dinner tables, and the floor.

“What the deuce?” exclaimed the waiter

“I'm so terribly sorry,” came Rork's immediate apology, “I'll help clean it up straight away.” He knelt down to pick up a plate, but his hand passed right through it. Caught off guard, he over extended his hand, compensating for the weight that should have been there, and ended up smacking the guy sitting next to him. “I'm really sorry, sir,” he said as the man turned to look at him, but it was as though he was looking through him, and he was getting terribly angry at that.

“How dare you hit me, a paying customer!” the man roared at the waiter.

“I'm afraid I don't know what you mean; I somehow tripped over thin air and spilled the food, but I never hit you,” the waiter responded in as nice and apologetic tone as he could muster, which wasn't saying much, considering his huge size.

“Oh, trying to get along as if it didn't happen, eh? I think I'll show you what happens when someone wrongs me and tries to get away with it!” The man, quite large himself, jumped from his chair and started pulling up his sleeves, advancing towards the waiter, who put his fists up in a defensive position, waiting for the first blow, so he could retaliate and not get in trouble from the boss. The first man lunged at the waiter, apparently not seeing that Rork was right in between them; even Rork had forgotten that he was there while listening to the arguing and confusion, and he only realized it as the man was in mid lunge, just about to lay on some hurt.

Suddenly, the whole world stopped for a moment, and Rork heard a voice come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “It's not pretty is it?”

Rork, more than confused, could do nothing, but look around, trying to find the source of the voice.

“It's no use, lad, it's just a dream, you won't find me. But back to my previous statement; it's not pretty is it? This is what happens when you only interact with one element, you only interact with one portion of the magic. It gets confused, and while it can still do a few things, it gets angry because it doesn't know who you are, what you really want, or why you want it to do what you are telling it to do.”

“You speak of magic as though it were a person,” Rork shouted out to the voice.

“There's a reason for that, you'll see. But remember, we were never meant to just interact with one element.”

Rork had heard of people who had excelled in one element, gone as far as they could, and then started studying a new element, their second strongest. These magi were rare, only a few out of the entire school were able to do this, and it took many years of work to train yourself to be able to just sense the new element, let alone tell it to grow, or move, or any other level of magic, most quit after being able to tell it to move, for anything more was so demanding on them and their own energy, that it would almost make them too weak to stand.

“I understand,” came his reply.

“No, I don't think you do, not until you've experienced what I have experienced. Then, maybe you will understand.” There was almost a sadness in the voice, but Rork dismissed it.

Suddenly, Rork looked around again, the world was still frozen, and there was Akara, sitting at the booth, looking beautiful as ever. “This is just a dream, right?”

“Yes,” came the now familiar voice.

“Ok, just checking,” and Rork quickly rushed over to Akara and kissed her right on the lips, good and hard.

And that's when the world started moving again, the man punched the waiter, and Akara opened her eyes wide in shock after a second of not knowing what was happening. This was quickly followed by another smack, this time on Rork's face. “Just what do you think you are doing?!” Akara shouted. “I knew I shouldn't have come here alone with you. I was hoping you could get over your past feelings for me, but I guess I was mistaken!” And with that, she grabbed her coat and stormed out of the restaurant.

Mouth open, not sure what to say, Rork sat back down in his seat, not sure what to make of the whole mess. “I thought you said that it was a dream,” he muttered somewhat angrily under his breath.

Again, the world stopped, and the voice spoke again. “It is, I just thought I'd let you have the consequences of your rash actions.” The words were no longer out of his mouth than a chuckle could be heard, which again turned into a roaring laugh. “Sorry, you should have seen the look on your face when she smacked you, priceless, purely priceless. Ok, that's enough fun for today, you'll be waking up now.”

Suddenly, Donnie's voice broke the mad rush, “Sorry, but you really can't do your hair very well, even if you spend all night on it.”

Rork just rolled his eyes and continued with his routine.

(Hey everyone! I actually wrote this last night, but I forgot to post it before getting into an intense game of Minecraft with a friend who had just bought it. Hope you all enjoyed the extra hour last night, I know I sure did :D! Oh, let me know how the story's going, or if there's any blatant typos or mistakes, it would be greatly appreciated.

PS Minecraft was awesome, we dug a huge mine shaft straight down to the bedrock, and then did a mixture of ladders and water so that you could jump all the way down to the bottom without taking damage and dying! yeah! Enjoy your Sunday! Peace out. )

Four days in, and it's still NaNoWriMo!

2011-11-05T00:03:00.000-07:00

Rork pinched his cheek to make sure that he wasn't dreaming and expected to feel the tug of sentience pull him back into a morning grog, but nothing came. Instead, there was the Grand Wizard in front of him, looking at him, almost as though he expected an answer out of him at that moment.

Awkwardly swallowing the lump that was quickly growing in his throat, Rork somehow squeaked out a timid “Me?” pointing at himself as though saying the word wasn't enough. The Grand Wizard just let out a short chuckle and nodded his head, adding extra praise and adulation for the great works that he had just witnessed being performed by Rork. Puffed up by flattery, and feeling quite sure of himself, Rork had no problem acquiescing to this once in a lifetime opportunity. “Of course I'd love to not be your pupil.”

The smiles quickly faded on both his and the Grand Wizard's faces as they realized the words that sprung from his mouth.

Back pedaling furiously, Rork tried again, “I mean, I'd absolutely hate being your pupil.” Rork slapped his hand across his mouth. The Grand Wizard immediately started chuckling, which grew into a laugh, which crescendo-ed into a loud guffaw.

“You really should have seen your face,” came the Grand Wizard's words, followed closely by more laughs, snorts, and a little snot dripping onto his white mustache.

Rork, just plain confused now, looked up with a perplexed look upon his face.

With a circular motion, the Grand Wizard muttered a few words under his breath, making Rork's thoughts much crisper and more able to be managed, then said “I put a small hex on you, it was a mixture of both dark magic and life magic, making you unable to say exactly what you wanted to say. I'm sorry, I really couldn't resist. It's also a small initiation tradition for becoming the pupil of the Grand Wizard, I went through it when I became the pupil of the Grand Wizard before me.” Tears were still threatening to roll down his cheeks as he continued, “Now, you should be able to think and speak just fine, remember this, for one day I'm sure you'll be passing it on to whomever you decide to bring up in our ways. I'm actually very excited for this moment, for you are the first I've seen in my search for a pupil who has actually had the right stuff for the position, and I have seen quite a few good wizards, some of them able to use their element at a higher level than you, which is no small feat.

“However,” the joy on his face seemed to dampen slightly with his next statement, “their practice of magic was not of the quality that I sought.” A small frown seemed to build on the corners of the the Grand Wizards mouth, but he stopped it there, instead forcing a smile to reappear just as quickly as it had gone. “And now, I must leave to make preparation for you. You will be accompanying me now, at least on ninety percent of my expeditions, so I may teach you both by instruction and example.” And with that, he took a step away and disappeared in a flash of light which left behind traces of smoke.

Chapter 4

“The guy is bonkers if you ask me,” came Donnie's usual dry remark. “I mean, he put a hex on you? Isn't that illegal?”

“Maybe, but he did save all the professors from the tree falling on them, and he saved professor Turan, so I don't think he's as crazy as he lets on.” Rork replied, trying to sound confident.

“I think I have to agree with Donnie,” came Akara's voice from behind the book which was open on the table in front of where she was resting her head. Her hair shone brilliantly as the light was allowed to hit it again as she closed the book and placed it squarely on the library table. “His actions do seem a little,” she hesitated for a moment, her face twisting as she looked for the right word.

“Silly?” Donnie recommended.

“I suppose that works, but I really don't like it when you fill in my words for me; I completely lose my train of thought.”

“Probably because you're so busy telling me that you don't like me filling in your words.” Rork couldn't help but let out a tiny burst of air despite his best efforts to hold in his laughter. He knew of what Akara was capable when she was upset at them.

And that's when the smack came.

“Don't encourage him,” her voice sounded as though she were hurt, but he knew she was just trying to not let them gang up on her.

Rubbing his arm even though it wasn't sore, he defended his position, “I just don't think that it's really a good idea to pass up this opportunity. I mean, he's the Grand Wizard for crying out loud. He hexed me and I didn't even know it.”

“Yeah, but I also remember two years ago when you tried to put a love hex on me,” Akara paused for dramatic effect, “and it backfired, making you fall in love with professor Onkle for a whole week. You weren't very aware of that either.”

“Yeah, I don't know why it was him, you really could have done better, Rork. He is a little on the, well, larger side of the scale.” Donnie puffed out his cheeks and circled his arms out in front of him, moving from side to side, attempting to imitate the waddle of Professor Onkle.

“Well, it's my decision, and I'm going with it, and that's that, you guys really have no say in the matter.” Rork let his frustration show in his tone of voice as he crossed his arms.

“Sorry, Rork, we just want to make sure that you're not jumping into a bad thing is all, we really are happy for you.” Donnie was surprisingly understanding when confronted solemnly, despite his constant comedy act which he enjoyed doing, that was why he and Rork had grown so close; Rork could actually stand to be around that humor ninety five percent of the time, and Donnie got plenty of chances to practice his one-liners. “Right Akara? We're happy for him.” Donnie moved the spotlight to Akara, trying to take some of the heat off of him.

“Of course we are, Rork,” Akara tried to sound comforting, which was unusual for her, “but like Donnie said, we really don't want you getting into something that's over your head. He dose seem a little on the loopy side.”

“Maybe that's what happens when you can control all the elements, it's like hearing other voices besides your own in your head.” Off went Donnie again.

“Alright, enough is enough!” Rork was done being their humor pin cushion. “I'm going, end of subject.” Trying to quickly move to another topic, he continued, “Donnie, how was your final?”

Taken somewhat by surprise, Donnie was shockingly quiet for an entire ten seconds before replying with a lowered chin, “I didn't pass.” He looked away as he finished.

“What? How is that possible?” Rork asked, “You actually went to all your classes, and you studied your butt off for that test, I saw you leave it on the library chair on several occasions.”

Akara's lips curled upward slightly at the thought of Donnie's butt being left behind.

Donnie, however, was unmoved. “Well, it apparently wasn't enough.”

“What did they want you to do? It couldn't have been too difficult, especially on your day of strength.”

“They wanted me to form several swords out of a small lump of iron. Nothing as difficult as what they made you do, but I guess that's to be expected from the next Grand Wizard.” Donnie evidently wasn't concerned about hiding the disgust in his voice, which hurt Rork immensely.

“It's not like I wanted them to make things more difficult for me. I barely made it out by the skin on my teeth, and there's not much there in case you haven't seen them for awhile, these past couple of weeks have been pretty hectic. I haven't really had a lot about which I could smile.”

“Whoa, guys, calm down, no need to get so intense here. Donnie, have you applied for another final date? You can still do that and have another shot at it, though they might change the objectives of the test since its a redo.” Akara's interjection brought some sense back into both the boys, who both restraightened themselves in their chairs.

“I hadn't thought of that,” came Donnie's eventual reply. “Sorry for snapping at you, Rork, I just haven't been having a very good day.”

“It's no biggie, I've seen you in much worse moods than that, and we're somehow still friends.” Rork's lips turned into a wry smile. “Remember that time when you asked Ilene if she would court you?”

“No! Don't bring that up again.” Donnie put his hands in front of his face, but his smile was still apparent in his voice.

Akara looked puzzled, “What? You liked Ilene?”

Rork just nodded as he continued, “She said that she didn't feel the same way about him, and he was so stung by those words that he was mopey for the next three months, and guess who had to put up with that attitude for the entirety of that time?”

“It's not my fault I'm horrible at telling what girls are feeling!” Donnie exploded in self-defense.

“You know, Donnie, for a Moku, you're really not that smart.” Apparently, Akara had a wicked sense of humor stuffed inside her somewhere.

At that point, another student, one whom Rork didn't recognize stopped by their table. “Yes?” Came Rork's welcome to the young girl.

The girl looked down as she said in a bashful voice “Umm, sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if you might quiet it down a bit, the rest of us are trying to study for our finals.”

Rork turned bright red as he realized that all the eyes in the library were focused on their table. “Yeah, sorry, we'll keep it down.” Rork pulled his book up to cover his face, not wanting to draw anymore attention to himself than he had already brought upon himself.

(here, again, is the next segment of my wonderful creation, behold it in all it's beauty! Anyway, it's late, and I'm going to bed soon, after I eat some of my wife's amazing stir-fry! Yeah! Again, feel free to comment on this, or other sections of my NaNoWriMo and other works, I do always enjoy hearing what everyone is thinking. Peace!)

Day three, how I mine for words? (NaNoWriMo)

2011-11-03T23:28:00.000-07:00

“Who does she think she is, just because she's one level ahead of us...” Rork let his voice trail off. She must be ready for her exam already, he thought, if she doesn't need her staff or source of fire. Fortunately for him his staff was his source of life force, seeing as it was a living branch, essentially. Donnie was special, as were all Kins, they worked with metal, crafting it, working it into mechanical gizmos and machines or weapons with magical properties, they didn't really need a source of metal to do their magic, as they had their “magics” already built and prepared, for the most part.

“Well, we should probably get to lunch now, and then get back to our studies for tomorrow,” Donnie seemed a little eager to leave, he had after all been standing with Rork for the past several hours since Rork was wanting another chance to see the Grand Wizard, but with this last little nudge, rork finally conceded that it was time to go.

Lunch was nothing unusual, Rork had the typical meat mixed with veggies and swallowed it down without a second thought. He immediately returned to his room, wishing Donnie the best of luck on his final, and returned to his studies, though after spilling blood on his bedroom floor twice, he decided that it might be better to practice on something that stained everything a little less, so he went out to the edge of the nearby forest and grabbed some twigs and several small, broken branches and brought them back to his room.

He awoke the next morning feeling dreadfully tired, but was glad to see the trees that were now growing inside his room. He felt ready for this test. It might be Friday, and his day of weakness, but there's nothing that a whole week full of cramming can't help. At least that's what he felt before he heard what he had to do in order to pass his final exam.

Chapter 3

“I have to do what?!” Rork exclaimed as one of his professors explained the task he had to perform to continue on with his studies at the next level.

“The concept is simple. Professor Turan here will be using one of his mechanical devices to chop down trees; your job will be to stop him. The method is up to you, though usually fast regrowth of the tree is what most students have done. It can slow down the blade and eventually stop it if done for long enough. Of course, the tree must still be living in order for you to pass, so you can't just draw upon the tree's own strength. Do you understand the task at hand?” The professor, robed in brown finished his explanation with the question this time, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to the side to put emphasis on how stupid Rork sounded asking that question.

Anger starting to seethe from within, Rork managed an “I understand,” before the professor nodded and gave the signal.

“Professor Turan, you may begin!” And with that, Turan pulled his green tinted goggles over his eyes and started up the contraption on his back which sputtered and spat out smoke. As it whirred to life, Turan turned the handles, causing the circular blade in front of him to spin quickly.

Rork looked at the field before him. It was just a normal exercise field with grass on the ground, except that now there were twelve large trees growing in a small clump in the middle of the field. Why today? Why this? Not only is it my weakest day, but I'm going up against the element that is stronger than me on the day when he's strongest. Rork grit his teeth as Turan turned to the first tree and put the blade against the bark. Chips started flying and as Rork made his mental connection with the tree, he could feel the pain the tree felt in a drastically lessened way. Fighting to gain focus through the fog of pain was almost more than Rork could bear, let alone trying to force the tree to grow into the blade which was cutting it. While causing a tree to grow with its own energy was simple, and forcing a tree to grow without any added energy was now only somewhat easy, forcing it to grow into what was hurting it was like trying to erase the chalk off a chalkboard by using your fingernails to scratch off the chalk.

There was no way that Rork was going to be able to stop the machine with just quick growth. Something else would have to be done.

The blade spun freely and loudly as it finished cutting through the first tree.

Rork winced feeling the tree cry out in pain as it toppled over and landed right in front of the adjudicator's table. Interesting, there were only three agonarchs at my last trial, now there's four. And one of them is wearing gray instead of brown. This fact didn't keep Rork's attention for long, however, as Turan was already driving his whirring blade into the second tree.

Gotta suck it up came Rork's initial reaction,and again, he tried to cause the growth of the tree to increase, he even tried bringing in some of his own life force to help the tree, but the tree needed much more than he was able to provide, and he quickly found himself even weaker than before.

The blade made its exit through the back of the second tree.

Again, the tree fell over towards the agonarchs, this time coming much closer than before. It almost seemed like it would land on them. Three of the adjudicators in brown looked up and flinched, but the fourth remained calm as a barrier of light caught the tree and deflected it harmlessly onto the first.

“Sorry about that,” shouted out Turan, “I'll be more careful with my cutting from now on.” And with that, he revved up the machine, and approached the third tree.

And that's when Rork realized why there was a fourth official at his testing. It should have been obvious, first of all because only those who were strong in that element were allowed to grade the finals, but also no one had a long, white beard like the fourth man, dressed in the simple, gray robe. Holy cow! The Grand Wizard is watching my third level exam! Rork turned back to the third tree as Turan started chopping into the woody flesh of its trunk.

Looking around quickly, Rork reached out to the grass instead of the tree, and forced it to grow. While this was still difficult, it came much easier, as he wasn't causing it to grow to its death. The grass grew slowly, but with purpose. Turan didn't notice it until it had already wrapped itself around his ankles and had started climbing up his legs.

“Woah!” Turan let go of the controls, stopping the blade as he reached for his sword which was at his side.

With Turan distracted, Rork focused back on the tree, causing it to regrow its lost portions and growing around Turan's blade

Turan had chopped himself free by this time, and looking over at the tree let a small smirk escape. “Well, you've done ok so far, but,” at this point in time he pulled the blade out of the tree, sending splinters flying, “the blade wasn't in deep enough to keep me from pulling it out.” He started up the devil machine again, and it almost seemed as though he were cutting through the tree faster than before.

Enraged by his success which was ripped out from underneath him, Rork Reached back out to the grass, this time though, instead of just telling it to grow, he commanded it to grow differently. He was so focused on the grass, however, he didn't notice that the agonarchs had stood up, mouths open in awe as not grass, but giant oaks sprung up from the ground, lifting Turan high into the sky, scratching and cutting him on the way up because they were growing so quickly. Higher, and higher and higher the trees went until finally “ENOUGH!” was heard from where the officials were sitting. Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Rork unconsciously disconnected himself from the grass-turned-tree and looked up just in time to see the Grand Wizard himself appear at the top of the tree stand, grab Turan, and then watched as both of them disappeared, only to see them on the grass, the three brown robed professors rushing towards Turan.

As the three tended his wounds, the Grand Wizard walked towards Rork. “That was some display of power, and on your day of weakness too.”

Rork just stood there, mouth wide open, unable to put two understandable syllables together. Who was he, that the Grand Wizard should compliment him on his strength? This was definitely going home in his letter.

Rork watched on as, with just a twinkle in his eye, the Grand Wizard caused the trees behind him to shrink back down to their normal size and nature. “Well, boys, it looks like what you told me is correct. Now, Rork, what you've shown today is truly outrageous. Not only did you overcome your weak element, but you did it on your weak day. You even took it a step further and almost reached the fourth level without any teachings on how to get there. I think you may have the gift I'm looking for. Now, I'm afraid I must be leaving and for several weeks at that, but then I will return and, with your permission, take you on as my pupil.”

Again, Rork could do nothing but stare, jaw slackened as he heard news flowing into his ears that was too good to be true. The Grand Wizard's pupil? That only happened to one person in a hundred years, and then it was expected of that pupil to be the next Grand Wizard.

Rork pinched his cheek to make sure that he wasn't dreaming and expected to feel the tug of sentience pull him back into a morning grog, but nothing came.

(howdy all! I have written yet another section of my amazing story, hope you all are enjoying it! With a little luck, you might even be loving it! woohoo! yeah. Again, it's still unedited, though I did make one change about the Kins, they also do weapons now instead of just gizmos and machines. Just some more lore with which you guys must keep up. Hope everyone's day is going superly! Enjoy your Friday and weekend (though, you'll hopefully be checking in for those days too)! peace!)

the second of NANOWRIMO

2011-11-02T23:44:00.000-07:00

Chapter 2

It was already Thursday. Rork had only had a few days to practice, but he felt that he was making progress. He looked at his hand as it held the spoon which held his breakfast.

“Yes, you have pretty hands, but you really shouldn't be standing there, looking at yourself all mesmerized by your beauty.” Donnie was always there for Rork, and he knew that, but sometimes he was such a pain in the butt.

“No, you see... Augh, it'll be easier if I just show you.” Rork grabbed the knife off the table in the cafeteria and held it close to his hand. “Watch.”

Before he could do anything, Donnie quickly grabbed the knife out of his hand. “Sorry, but the sight of things cutting into flesh really doesn't make me hungry for my breakfast.”

Rork rolled his eyes, yet another one of Donnie's examples of friendship and trust, but one look at Donnie's face and Rork knew that he wasn't joking around.

“Fine.” Rork snatched the knife back from out of Donnie's hand and turned away from him, wincing slightly as he sliced open his hand. Turning to face Donnie again, he revealed the fresh wound, red, hot blood starting to pool in the palm of his hand.

“Ok,” Donnie said, wincing, and looking as though he were trying not to gag. “So you're a masochist now; you really shouldn't let these trivial matters of school affect you like that.” Rork wasn't ready for the condescending tone of voice, though the sly smirk that crept onto Donnie's face quickly told him that he wasn't being serious.

With a sigh, Rork closed his eyes and focused. Fortunately, today was Thursday, so it wasn't difficult for him to sense the life in the skin around the cut. He knew he could just move some of the energy from his body into the cut and use that to speed up the healing process, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. He delved deeper into the skin, beyond just the sense of knowing that it was there, he looked into the very spirit of his life, and sensed its essence. With a thought, he clumsily ordered the force within his skin to increase. Struggling for a bit to get some momentum started, he slowly opened his eyes and watched with delight as his wound slowly started closing.

Donnie stood there, mesmerized as well, eyes wide open in shock. After the wound had fully closed, he looked at Rork, and then back down at then hand, and then once more at Rork. “You can do that now?”

Rork just nodded his head as he reached for his napkin on the table, then thought better of it and grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the still wet blood from his hand. I've been studying it for the past three days straight. Donnie looked at Rork's staff; a look of understanding washing over his face. Rork's staff, once just a branch with a few twigs and leaves on it, was now much sturdier than before and had so many branches intertwining together at the top, that it was impossible to tell how many there were. And now there weren't just leaves on it, but ivy had started climbing its way up the staff as well, making it a swirl of greens and dark browns mixing together.

“I take it that's what you've been working on these past several days?” Donnie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, naturally.” Came Rork's short reply.

The brevity of his answer didn't go into the detail of how he had stayed awake for two of the past three nights sleepless, working on making his staff grow without taking from his own life energy. He had made his initital breakthrough several days ago, but he knew that more practice would be needed if he were going to be displaying this power on Friday. His staff had managed to grow to that size in this short amount of time without any help from his energy, but Rork didn't want to just stop there.

Just last night he decided to try and heal himself from a small, self-inflicted, wound, the Mokus were known for being healers after all, with their affinity for sensing and manipulating life energies, wonderful things came from their fingertips. It also wasn't uncommon for the masters Mokus to live long lives, usually healing others free of charge, just wandering about as they pleased. Rork really didn't understand that part, he would definitely make some serious money if he were ever able to make it to that level. Maybe he'd even join the king's army, those healers made some really nice gold.

Rork suddenly realized that Donnie was snapping his fingers in front of him. “Hello, anyone there? I said it's almost time for the arrival of the Grand Wizard, didn't you want to see him?”

“The Grand Wizard!” Rork had completely forgotten about his arrival. He was supposedly the only man who had ever mastered all six elements, light, darkness, fire, water, life, and metal. Ever since he had come to this school, Rork had hoped for a chance to catch a glimpse of him and write home to his mother and sister about it.

He quickly put down his dinnerware and got up so quickly that he rammed both of his knees into the table. Running with muffled groans of pain, he slung his bag over his shoulder, staff floating along beside him. Donnie was left in the dust, running behind him, trying to catch up with him. “Rork!” Rork was too busy running to slow down for Donnie, though. Again came his cry “Rork!” This time it was followed by, “the Grand Wizard will be coming in on the other side of the school. Donnie jumped at how quickly Rork responded to this new information and turned, causing quite a breeze as he flew by Donnie, staff following close behind. Again, Donnie was left in the dust.

Slightly out of breath as he reached the crowded other side of the school, Rork waited for a few seconds to let Donnie catch up with him before asking, “Why wouldn't the Grand Wizard come in at the front entrance?” with arms braced on his head to help open up his lungs so he could breathe more easily.

“I dunno,” came Donnie's reply between his own gasps for breath, “maybe he has and ego issue, and doesn't want to do things the normal way?”

“Or maybe his lack of an ego.” spoke up a nearby student, dressed in red robes.

“Oh, hi, Akara, I didn't expect to see you here, how are you doing?” Rork queried.

Her thick, straight, brown hair twirled with her robe, with its droopy arms, as she turned to look at them, the rest of the crowd behind her. “And just where have you guys been? You told me that we would all meet here at the same time, but I've been standing here for thirty minutes being shoved around by those rude upperclassmen, and almost didn't have a spot saved for you.”

“Sorry, but we didn't have much choice, seeing as Rork here decided to slice his hand open for his own amusement.”

“Donnie, when you put it that way, it makes it sounds like I've got a problem.”

“That's because you do, it's called working too hard.” Donnie shot him a knowing glance.

Rork really didn't want to take the subject further, so he just shrugged and turned his eyes to the entrance where the Grand Wizard was to arrive. Even though he was still breathing hard, he was glad that he ran, for he hadn't even stopped turning when the crowd started to break up as some of the professors and teachers motioned for the students to move away from the entrance and the carpet that led into the school. Some of the professors who were wearing white robes stepped into the walkway, and a shimmer went through the air as they created barriers of light to keep the students away from the Grand Wizards grand entrance.

Rork suddenly realized that it was silent now. His heart had been pounding so hard and loudly earlier that he hadn't even heard the murmur of the crowd around the entrance. But now, in it's absence, it was almost too loud. And that's when things got crazy.

With a boom, the back doors burst in, a giant fireball following the trail of the doors as they were blown off their hinges. Little automated vehicles were making a bunch of whirring and clicking noises as they zoomed into the room, crashing into each other and the barrier in their race to get to... somewhere very quickly. Then came the pigeons, fluttering about with a garland of pine branches held between them. They were followed closely by waves upon waves of water, which brought in a very old man, floating atop them. With not even a twitch, the entire quarantined area was filled with darkness, and then, with a bright flash, the darkness was dispelled, leaving the old man nowhere to be seen.

The claps were slow to come at first, mostly because most had never seen such a display of magical prowess before, but soon enough, the whole room was filled with cheers, whistles, and shouts as people realized just what a spectacle they had seen. For it definitely wasn't just anybody who could harness the power of all six elements. Rork was so dumbfounded by the complete control that the Grand Wizard had over the elements that he didn't even realize that he wasn't clapping. Donnie nudged him gently then looked at him, prodding him to show his appreciation of such a sight. Rork started clapping just after a moment when he regained his sentience again. He clapped harder and more quickly than anyone else in the entire room.

“Encore! Encore!” came the cries, but even though they cried out for minutes on end, there was no sight of the elderly man. The crowd slowly started to dissipate as those who realized that there would be no second display of such power started wandering off, followed by their friends, and those who didn't want to be left alone.

As the crowd dwindled down to just a few small groups of lingerers, Akara spoke up. “Alright, I think it's time to get back to the books, I've got my final coming up on Sunday. I want to make sure I'm ready.”

Rork, just realizing something, spoke up, “Hey, Akara, where's your staff? And your lantern?”

A small twinkle in her eye was all the answer that he got.

“Who does she think she is, just because she's one level ahead of us...” Rork let his voice trail off. She must be ready for her exam already, he thought, if she doesn't need her staff or source of fire. Fortunately for him his staff was his source of life force, seeing as it was a living branch, essentially. Donnie was special, as were all Kins, they worked with metal, crafting it, working it into mechanical gizmos and machines, they didn't really need a source of metal to do their magic, as they had their “magics” already built and prepared, for the most part.

(I know I restarted at the beginning of chapter two, but it's easier to read that way, right? Also, hopefully you know this, but I'm not editing anything at all, except for one thing, the term "_______ year student" is now "_______ level student." the way that the school works makes much more sense for you to graduate when you're ready, not necessarily from year to year. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and as always, I do enjoy feedback and fresh ideas of where the story can go. What'll happen next time? WHO KNOWS!? Let's find out tomorrow! :D~ PEACE!)

NaNoWriMo the first!

2011-11-02T00:17:00.000-07:00

“Of all the rotten luck!” Rork looked at the paper in his hand in utter disbelief, fingers almost trembling.

“What? Did you get Friday as the day of your final as well?”

Rork looked at Donnie and gave him a small snarl as they walked down the hall from the office. “I think I've got this one in the bag.” Donnie smiled as his golden hair bounced across his brow, gently brushing against his metal glasses.

“I don't understand it. Why would they make me take my final on the day when I'm the weakest, and yet give you the same day, when you're at the peak of your power? It just doesn't make any sense.” Rork stuffed his hands into the sleeves of his robes in a most violent motion, letting his oaken staff float via its own power; its leaves glowing slightly.

Donnie, still clutching his black, metal staff, put an arm around his friend as he comforted him. “Maybe it's a real test for you, to see what you're capable of even when you're at your weakest. I'm sure they're going to take it into account.”

“No,” Rork interjected before Donnie could continue, “All the students are expected to do the same for the final exam, regardless of the day.”

“I wonder what us Kins will have to do.”

Rork, feeling curiosity take over his initial feeling of anger decided to ask, “What did you have to do last year? We just had to make a leaf fly without any breeze. It wasn't too difficult for me.”

Donnie, obviously not to be one put to shame, replied “We had to make a bar of metal move across a table, it took me all of three seconds, AND it was a Sunday. It was nothing really.” Rork could see Donnie's chest puff up a little with a false pride that went along with that last statement.

“That's not what I heard.” Rork had to force back a smile as he remembered the rumors of Donnie trying to cheat his way through the exam with a magnet. “I heard that you were quite shocked when the bar didn't move.”

“How was I supposed to know that there wouldn't be any iron in that huge lump of metal?” Donnie's chest immediately deflated as his bluff was called, and instead took a defensive position, expecting more teasing to come from Rork.

Rork just smiled and shook his head, though, he appreciated the distraction from the paper in his hand, but he knew that it wouldn't do him any good in the long run. He was just going to have to accept the fact that he was a Moku, and even though Fridays were the days of his and his kind's weakness, he would just have to live with it.

He was so distracted by the conversation, however, that he hadn't even realized that they had reached the Moku dormitory. “Well, hopefully you'll be able to pass your exam this time. Maybe that's why they gave you that day, so you'd be more able to pass it.” Rork winked at Donnie as he darted down the hallway, only to hear Donnie's shouts of fake anger chasing after him. Rork smiled as he closed the door; he always enjoyed giving Donnie a hard time, but he had a way of being somewhat pithy with his teasing remarks, he had come to realize.

Rork shook his head, this wasn't the time to be thinking of anything other than the task that lay before him: his final exam for the year. He walked through the crowded commons as he made his way to his bedroom. Suddenly, he stopped, as he thought of something that might just help save his bacon. Glancing through the room, he easily spotted some of the upper classmen.

Walking over to them, he shoved the paper into one of the inner pockets in his brown robe. As he got closer, he pulled his hand back out of his sleeve and tried to look nonchalant, maybe even cool. “Hey guys,” he started as he entered their circle, “I was wondering if you could tell me about the third year's exam, you know... how lame it is.”

One of the guys, who looked somewhat familiar to Rork —it was probably his long black bangs that were more than just stylized, they were groomed into a swoop that reminded Rork of the feathers that came off a chicken's butt –put on a fake smile, and said, quite loudly, “Well, well, well, it looks like we have a curious cat over here. What do you guys think, should we tell him about the exam and break the rules of the school? It does seem rather tempting, what with all that this fine fellow has offered us and all. I think I'm going to go with no, though, mostly because I don't want to get kicked out of school.” The student looked at Rork with wide eyes and pursed lips as he pronounced the last word, getting a chorus of laughter and sneers from his peers.

Rork, could feel the eyes of the others in the room, and, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than he already had, turned around and made to quickly retreat to his room, only to be caught by the arm by a student who was a year older than him. Fearing that he might be reported to the school officials, he immediately stammered out “Sorry, I just didn't know what to expect, and it's on a Fri-”

“Wow, on a Friday?” the older student cut him off before he could even finish his last word. “I can understand why you'd want to know what it is that you have to do, though, I hear that they change the exam each year to keep students on their toes, so even if the information got leaked, we wouldn't know what to expect. However, I can tell you one thing, just remember what you've been learning this year and it shouldn't be too difficult, it's always based on what you've learned, remember that. Also, I haven't heard of anyone being forced to do an exam on the day of their weakness.” The student paused for a moment, getting a distant look in his face. “Unless...”

“Unless...” Rork mimicked his starting of a sentence, hoping to get more out of him.

“Well, I guess we'll just have to see, anyway good luck on Friday.” The student smiled as he released Rork's arm, and quickly walked into the crowd.

Well, that's just great, Rork thought to himself as he continued his retreat to his room, though the eyes were already off his back.

What have we been working on? All that he could remember was teachers making him taking limbs of plants, and making them grow. I knew I shouldn't have skipped as many classes as I did. Feeling the frustration rise within him, he looked for something at which he could lash out. Seeing nothing in his room, he reached into his robe and pulled out the paper that had started all this crazy behavior.

He could sense the tiny amount of life force still in the fibers of the plant that had been destroyed to make the paper. Reaching out to it, he held it in his mind, and then dragged it into his staff. He wished it had hair so he could pull it along even more painfully, but he knew it didn't matter, for the paper had no more feeling that a boot, and that definitely had no feeling.

The paper started to yellow and crinkle as its life force was drained from it, causing it to age prematurely.

Rork turned his attention to his staff and watched as another leaf started to bud out of the bark. He noticed that his staff was much healthier looking now than it was when it was first given to him. At that time, almost three years ago now, it was nothing more than a twig, no longer than the wand that he saw some of the teachers had mounted on the walls in their rooms. Now it had seven branches and quite a few leaves on each of them. It was also much sturdier, and thicker than before. He was glad that he could now give his life force to it to make it grow, and sustain the energy that it used when it floated alongside him. He and his staff had grown a lot since his studies first started.

Feeling much more confident than before, he immediately sat down and opened his book, reading about the life force in all things, and how to manipulate it. Oh, that's right, we've been learning how to make our element grow without using any outside energy. Rork smiled and looked at his staff. “Well, my friend, it looks like you've still got some growing to do.”

Chapter 2

It was already Thursday. Rork had only had a few days to practice, but he felt that he was making progress. He looked at his hand as it held the spoon which held his breakfast.

“No, you see... Augh, it'll be easier if I just show you.” Rork grabbed the knife off the table in the cafeteria and held it close to his hand. “Watch.”

Before he could do anything, Donnie quickly grabbed the knife out of his hand. “Sorry, but the sight of things cutting into flesh really doesn't make me hungry for my breakfast.”

Rork rolled his eyes, yet another one of Donnie's examples of friendship and trust.

(Hey all! I'm back! and I have started NaNoWriMo! this is the first of many days to come of the story of Rork, a young magic user. The magic system is based off the Japanese week and the symbols that they use. I hope you find it interesting. Anyway! Peace out! YEAH! )

2011-10-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

Sneet reached for the gem encrusted goblet, its wine full to the brim. "A toast! To my dear sister, who had to go and find herself a good husband!" Smiling, he tilted his head back and took a big swig out of the goblet as the rest of the hall did the same with their more modest wine-bearing dishes. Unfortunately for them, they would all die, for only his goblet had been blessed to purify the poison that had been mixed into the wine. It was a perfectly crafted poison, one of his own making. The recipients wouldn't feel a thing, and then, when they next fell asleep, it would mix with the chemicals that the brain released into the body, and they would all perish while dreaming of sunshine and rainbows. Nothing said that a poison had to be painful.

Alas, Sneet couldn't fully enjoy the rest of the party, knowing that another of his experiments was coming to an end. In fact, while his experiments were dying with sweet dreams, he had a rather restless night. He had created these life forms, so it wasn't as if they were real people with real emotions, they were just programmed to react to stimuli as if they had feelings. He had gotten quite good at getting the different emotions down, and when one should over-power another, such as one not getting angry at a loved one, despite something horrible happening, but, over the centuries, he could mostly figure out the way his experiments would end before they had even begun.

Take for instance, this last experiment. He made a small village, filled it with his beings, gave them their roles, and let them live for several years. The way that he set it up, he was the brother to the most beautiful woman in town, and all the eligible men wanted to have her as a wife. That's when he decided to put in his variable, and made a complete stranger come into the town and try to woo her, for he would obviously find her attractive, and she would be stand-offish, at best, and try to put down his efforts. Unfortunately, not only did he have the woman going against him, but all the other guys in the town decided to join arms and run him out of town. But, through some sort of ingenuity, he not only outsmarted them, but was able to convince the other men that he was most worthy of her hand in marriage. It didn't take long after that for him to woo her, and marry her, and that's when Sneet had to end the experiment, for that was the sole purpose of his beings, and he had other experiments to run.

Sneet looked down at the flaming wine bottle in his hand. This part was never fun. He tossed the bottle in the air, and then pointed at it with his finger, with a bright flash in the sky, the one bottle split into dozens, and flew to each house in the settlement. He might be the only living being alive on this planet, but that didn't mean that he had to be a slob, he didn't want any diseases bringing about any changes in his experiments. As his fingers pointed at the ground, a tree sprouted up. He stepped on top of the small leaves, pointed at the tree again, and up it grew, ten, twenty, thirty feet, and he kept rising. Getting a view of the entire village was important, to make sure that everything burned all the way; he would then grab the few things he still had, and walk along his path, always curious about what-ifs, but always getting bored with his experiments.

Why did he have to become so powerful that he became banned to his own plane? To seek knowledge is all that he wanted, but this was not where he thought it would get him. For once, he actually longed to see real people, with real emotions and real faces and spirits. The fire reflected in his watery eyes as he watched his world burn beneath him.

(hey everyone! sorry about the super lateness of this one, and it might not be the best, but at least I'm writing! Hope everyone is enjoying their time, and excited about NaNoWriMo! I know I am! during that month, I think I'll actually just post what I write for that day, and let you all follow along with the story. As always, input is always greatly appreciated, and when I start writing my story, I will take what you guys want to happen into consideration. Ciao! )

2011-09-12T23:50:00.000-07:00

"Morgan!" cried out Click, as the robed figures pushed her down to her knees, knife pressed at her throat. He charged down the hill, giving nary a thought to the spells as they flew by him, some colliding with him, ripping his clothes, tearing into his flesh. He could hear Kots behind him. How far, he didn't know. His focus on getting to Morgan was so intense that he didn't notice that he was bleeding until he had already taken cover behind a rock at the foot of the dune.

The robed figures involved the ritual didn't look away or move out of sync of the pattern in which they were already entranced. From what he read in the book, it appeared as though they were nearing the end of the ritual, for they were starting to chant louder, and the chants had less time for the intervals between each statement; it was soon going to be time for the sacrifice.

Without even thinking, Click ran up to the circle and slammed his hands on the ground, touching it while Kots flew in front of him, absorbing spells left and right with his staff. He sensed the power within the circle and instantly knew that the power within far exceeded any amount of energy that even Kots could absorb, let alone the limited amount of siphoning that was left to him. Nevertheless one of his teammates was in trouble, and he never left a teammate behind, especially when it was in his power to help.

The power was overwhelming; it all tried to rush into his body at once, like an ocean of water leaking out of a pin prick in a dam. He could feel the energy of the spell tearing apart his skin as he saw pieces of his flesh floating off his body. Something needed to be done with this energy, or he wouldn't be able to survive long enough to drain the entire spell.

His eyes glowed as though electrified, and the ground shook as he picked up the entire mound of sand beneath their location and brought it into the air. It still wasn't enough. Taking his first thought, he threw the sand at all his foes, then blasted it with heat, so that tiny shards of glass flew into two thirds of his foes, and they fell to the ground, blood staining the sand beneath them. Bigger, he thought, and grew the fire blast so large that it enveloped the entire floating island, turning it all instantly into glass, red stained glass.

The circle was almost done, the last remnants of power still quite powerful, but nothing compared to when he first touched it. With the last of his effort, and a blast of light from the circle, everything on top of the floating island stood still. The circle vanished, and click walked over to Morgan and his captive, and just barely managed to push the robed man over with his foot, grabbing Morgan and lifting her in his arms.

Bleeding profusely, he walked over to Kots, grabbed him with what strength he had left in his arm, and dragged him to the edge of the island where he looked down, tattered clothes hanging off his body. He cried aloud as the burning sting of absorbing a teleportation spell from Kots caused smoke to rise from his hand. He muttered the words, and clumsily managed to make the movements required to cast the spell, and brought them all to the ground, just over a mile away from the giant floating island's original resting place.

It was then that the breeze continued again, and in the few seconds before he blacked out, Click watched as the red island, accentuated in the red sunlight of sunset, fell to pieces, along with all the cultists and any plans they may have had. He collapsed to the ground, with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that his team was safe.

(Hey-O! Not sure if this is the end of Kots, Click, and Morgan... I really liked them, what do you all think, should I continue of with them, or move on to something else? Lemme know! Oh, I'm going away on a trip for a week or so, but I'll try to continue writing when and where I can. Anyway, hope you all are having a great start of your week! Peace out, my homey g dawgs! )

another delay from dilly dallying

2011-09-12T11:44:00.000-07:00

Alright, sorry about the delay in writing, I was away for the weekend, and hadn't written anything in advance, and for that I apologize... anyway, hopefully I'll have a post out today before too long, and you guys will all enjoy it, love it, and like me better as a human being because of it (not really, I already know that you enjoy me to the fullest extent possible). Oh, one last interesting bit of information... I just recently discovered that zombies are in the Bible. Don't just take my word for it, though, look it up.

Matthew 27:51-53, it's right after Jesus dies (hopefully that wasn't too big of a spoiler for ya...), so that, along with dragons and dinosaurs, makes the Bible my favorite book (not that it wasn't already, but the awesomeness factor just went up another 20 bajillion points.) Enjoy your day :)

Another day, another dollar, or penny, or something like that

2011-09-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

"Alright Morgan, time to set out for the next set of mages." Click turned when he didn't hear a response. "Morgan?" Nothing. "Where could she have gone?"

Both he and Kots ran over to where the other mages had fallen. As they arrived, a fireball whizzed right by them. They looked over to see the mage that Morgan had previously held in place. "Looks like the holding spell wore off." Kots always did like to state the obvious.

"What did you do with her?!" shouted Click.

"I didn't do anything!" shouted the hunched mage as he prepared to launch another spell.

Click raised his hand and absorbed the ray of poison that was thrown at him. He fought back a wince, for that one stung a little; he must be nearing his limit. "If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go without beating you to a pulp." Click never enjoyed making threats, but he couldn't just stand there all day wasting time and magic.

The mage just stood for a second, almost as if trying to weight the options in his head, and then finally blurted out, "I saw some guys take her. They put a black bag over her head, and ran off behind me." The footprints could be seen in the sand.

"It looks like he's telling the truth," again, Kots had to state the obvious.

"Thank you for your time and information." Click and Kots walked past the mage, and followed the trail of footprints. I can't smell anything besides Kots and that mage, so they probably used some sort of transportation.

"Kots, do you smell any sort of transportation magic residue, like summoning, or teleportation?"

Kots sniffed the air for a few seconds, and then put his hand up to signal to hold. They hadn't quite reached the top of this dune yet. Kots ran to the top, stuck his head over by a smidge, and then ran back to Click. "Looks like they're dampening their magical auras. I just barely caught a whiff of them now. Their just over this hill on the other side. There's six or so, and they're all together, in some sort of circle or something. Looks bad, boss, what do we do?"

Sometimes it actually was nice for Kots to have the brevity that he did. That's why he was a warrior mage, and not a diplomat. "I guess we're gonna have to storm the mages, take them by surprise, and get our third member back. After that, we need to win this thing."

Kots nodded, "Alright, I'll lead in. Let me know when you're ready."

Click was slightly envious of Kots' ability to absorb spells, his limit was much higher than his, but that meant that he always had to be the first one to run into battle, which was something that he never wanted to do. He and Kots got to the top of the hill, and he looked down. Ok, maybe Kots' brevity didn't do the whole situation justice. He couldn't believe what he saw on the other side of the dune. He'd only seen it in text books.

(alright, a little less action in this one, but a good setup for tomorrow, eh? ;) Anywho, thanks to whoever voted in the polls, you're awesome! Have a blessed day!)

Well, well, well

2011-09-07T18:38:00.000-07:00

It wasn't long after they released the spells of death, that they quickly smelled their way to the next group of mages duking it out. Morgan, along with her teammates, watched from behind a small scattering of rocks, and she notched an arrow to her bow, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She was glad that these two clans were weakening each other, as they both seemed quite powerful.

Recalling the spells that she had previously absorbed, she decided to place one on her arrow, as it lay in wait, almost quivering with excitement to lay waste to her enemy. It didn't take long for the correct moment to present itself. "Fly," she whispered and let loose her arrow. Flying straight into the middle of the combat, it went completely unnoticed, until it erupted in a giant ball of life draining magic. The battle ensued as if she hadn't done anything. I wonder if they realize that it wasn't just another one of their enemy's spells Morgan thought to herself. Not that it would do them much good, they had been so weakened by the blast, that they were now visibly starting to breathe harder and curl up the way that old people do as they get older and have trouble keeping themselves upright.

"Now," Click gave the order to charge in. Morgan, the sagittiferous member of the team, launched another arrow, this time directly aimed at a mage, and hit him in the leg. Kots charged, leading the way while swinging his staff to intercept any incoming spells. Morgan spotted one of the mages in the middle of casting a spell that didn't look like it was going to end well for the recipient. "Not today," she muttered as she released a spell to keep him from moving. His uneven positioning caused him to fall face first onto the sand.

The two clans were now more focused on Morgan and her clan than they were on each other, but two were already down for the count; one was being held by her spell, and the other just got walloped on by Kots' staff. He was definitely going to wake up black and blue the next morning.

She ran over to the held mage, touched his outstretched arm, and drew his spells into herself, replenishing her dwindling spells. She breathed a sigh of relief, for his spells weren't composed of any death magic. Looking back at the battle, she could tell that Kots and Click had things well under control. With the weakened state of the mages, it was much easier to resist their spells.

That's when Morgan lost the ability to move. She couldn't even move her eyes. Fortunately her chest continued to rise and fall as her breathing continued, as it always had, but she could not chase after her team as they bounded after the two remaining mages.

Then there was nothing but darkness and a sharp pain in the back of her neck as she blacked out.

(Hey-o! Cliffhanger! Dun Dun Dun! *dramatic reverb* How you all liking it so far? Any comments, questions, concerns? Lemme know! Another lost word here, see if you can figure it out :) Anyway, hope you all are enjoying your week, cuz you should, it's the only first full week of September of 2011 you're gonna get, so take advantage of it. Laterz!)