AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT This is the story I came up with from the picture I previously mentioned. ENJOY!
“His left leg was cut off close by the hip, and under the left shoulder he carried a crutch, which he managed with wonderful dexterity, hopping about upon it like a bird. He was very tall and strong, with a face as big as a ham-plain and pale, but intelligent and smiling.” (Stevenson, 1883)
Awakening
“What happened?”
The rays of the bright sun rushed into her eyes like a tidal wave as she tried to focus on the shadow looming in the middle of the flood. As her eyes slowly came into focus the image of her battered and rusted warforged bosun came into view.
We have been marooned Cap’n.” The towering warforged replied to his captain in his rust stricken metallic voice.
She blinked and tried to rub her eyes as the white sand of the beach scratched her face. “Where is my Dryad Dutchess?” She rubbed her head where a large knot could be felt underneath her ebony curls. She winced at the mere touch of the swelling mass.
“Blackfin took her Cap’n.” A potbellied dwarf piped up from behind the massive warforged. His normal orange mohawk drenched in seawater lay like kelp over a manatees head after surfacing.
“Kilzar, my old friend,” The deposed captain placed a hand on the bare shoulder of her long time friend. “That ugly pirate has returned to take back what I have rightfully stolen.”
The dwarf looked up at his captain and smiled, “Aye.” His mechanical eye gleamed blue as it hummed and whirred as it telescoped out and back in focusing on his friend’s battered face. “The filthy shark killed more than half yer crew and shipwrecked us all on this blasted island.” He cursed under his breath while he wrung out his long crimson beard and tried his best to stand his mohawk back up straight. His blue tattoos all over his body and face almost seemed to writhe like snakes when he moved.
The immense pile of rust that was Ol’ Salt piped in with his tarnished voice, “Role call has turned up as; I yer bos’n, Kilzar yer quartermaster, Maccus ‘n Piper yer gunner and powder monkey, and ‘Bad Rum’ Maurice yer cooper. Ma’am.”
Slowly lifting herself to her feet she groaned, “It seems that my best men survived, eh Salt?”
“Aye Cap’n,” he grated.”
“It seems then that Captain Jenny Blackbirch is in need of a new vessel.” She wrung out her own hair as she looked at her lightened crew. “But what exactly happened to us Salt? How did I lose my precious Dutchess?”
Ol’ Salt produced his Captain’s hat and handed it back to her as he relayed the tale of the attack on the Dutchess.
A Bosun’s Tale
“We were sailing to the Straits of Xaloc where we usually…” Ol’ Salt cleared out his throat with a gurgle and a cough of oil and rust before he continued “where we toil at our honest profession.” The crew laughed at his choice of words. “We were approaching our favorite spot to weigh anchor and await the next merchant ship to arrive on its way from Sharn to the outpost of Weatherdeep on Xen’drik when we seemed to have run aground. Now Cap’n, you’n I both know these waters better’n any man and to run aground in the Straits is damn’d near impossible.”
Kilzar sat down on a stump and rolled his eye as the mechanical one scraped in and out with the grit of sand marring it as it moved. “Just because you were once an honorable marine during the war doesn’t mean you can navigate the tides n’ weather always, Salty.” He popped his mechanical eye out and spit on it and tried to polish it with his beard to get the sand off.
“As I said Cap’n,” Ol’ Salt continued, “we ran aground in the middle of the Straits.”
“How is that possible, Salt?” Jenny queried as she rubbed the knot on her head. “And I guess I can credit this knot to my foggy memories of the event.”
“Aye ma’am,” was the squeaky reply of the young gnome they called Piper. His ruddy cheeks could be seen for the first time in months as he was washed clean by the sea from all the cannon powder he was usually covered in. “The ol’ shark Blackfin knocked you good on the noggin’ Cap’n.”
“We are getting ahead of the story,” Salt retorted. “We had no more as gained our footing on deck when tentacles started crawling up the sides of the boat. We had been caught by one of those creatures, the ones from sea myth, those Kray-kens.”
“Crack’n,” said Maccus.
“Krah-kun,” barked Bad Rum.
“Regardless,” snapped Salt. “The giant squid believed only in fairy tales and nightmares had grabbed a hold of your poor Dutchess and began crushing masts and rudders.” Salt seemed to creak and groan in his joints as if he shuddered at the thought of this beast doing the same thing to his own frame. “Then came the real shock, Blackfin and his crew came around a nearby cove aboard his ship, The Sea Lance; As if he had taught that creature to lay in wait for us.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that in the slightest,” Kilzar chimed in as he popped his polished eye back into the hollow socket of his mechanical eye.
Salt’s voice box scraped out the words as he continued. “We were boarded as we were helpless in the grasp of the Kray-ken.”
“Crack’n,” snapped Bad Rum.
“Krah-kun,” whispered Maccus.
“Anyway,” growled Salt. “We were boarded by Blackfin and his band. You’d been proud of yer crew ma’am. Each man proved his mettle a hundred times over as they lay waste to three to four of Blackfin’s crew before bein’ cut down themselves.” Salt seemed to groan, but it was just his body creaking with the white sand mingling with the rust in his salt corroded joints. “You ma’am then squared off with Blackfin. You fought honorably, despite Blackfin’s predilection for cheating.”
“Predilection?” Kilzar grumbled. “Stop speaking like a Marine mate and speak to us like we are educated pirates.”
“His fondness for cheating,” if Salt could sneer he would have done so to the quartermaster.
Kilzar smiled.
“Despite all odd ma’am, Blackfin got the best of ye when one of his crew, a crimson red painted warforged skulked behind ye and knocked you on the head with his massive sledge of a hand.” Salt shuttered at the image replaying in his mind. “It is a wonder you are still alive ma’am.”
“So that is how we ended up on this island somewhere between Xen’drik and Khorvaire?” Jenny stood up and looked to the horizon for any sign of another spot of land. “How about we find a way off this rock and get our ship back?”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Thursday, March 4
Friday, February 26
Rude awakening… (Original Fiction by Xan)
“Well, I must have slept like the dead.” Mayvn lifted his arms out in a long and wonderful cat stretch, as he flexed his fingers as if grasping for the ceiling.
“Did someone let the fire go out?” He fumbled around with his pack trying to find the torch.
“What did you do with the torch the mage gave us, Beasley? You know the one that its flame never goes out?” He continued to search in his pack for his ‘spare’ torch.
“Damn, I will have to remember to have a certain pouch made so I can find the thing a little easier.” He grasped onto a thick wooden stick, wrapped in a small bit of leather wrapped around one end, and a cup on the other.
“Radiantino!” The torch burst into flame, showering sparks that popped and hissed as they fell to the ground. Mayvn looked around to campsite, the fire’s embers had been out for some time and they were not even warm to the touch. Everyone seemed to still be curled up in their bedrolls and thin travel blankets.
“Beasley!” Mayvn looked to the smallest lump in the circle of blankets. “Beasley, you fool! Why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”
Mayvn stood up and stretched once more. He walked to the far end of the small alcove they had spent the night in to take care of some morning business. He walked back to the campsite with a sigh and bent over to relight the campfire with his torch. The campfire sparked and hissed as if it too had been rudely interrupted from a deep slumber. Mayvn walked over to Zander and nudged the largest of the bedrolls with his toe.
“Zander, what’s for breakfast?” The blanket and huge mass didn’t move from its position. “I sure could use some of your maple cured meat, I am starved and I have nothing in my pack but salted pork for emergencies.” Still there was no sign of movement from the bedroll. Mayvn crouched down to lift the blanket from over the large mass.
“EEEEK!” Mayvn let out a shrill cry like a wash maid who found a mouse in the laundry. Where once a large half-ogre was now lay a half-ogre skeleton in rusty chain mail and tattered robes. A rusty hammer also lay next to the aged set of bones.
“Solcloud, Beasley, come quickly! Zander has been…disintegrated in his sleep.” Mayvn danced around the fire, he shuttered as if something was crawling on his skin. He made his way over to the two other bedrolls on the opposite end of the fire pit. He nudged the larger of the two and a rusted helmet rolled out with a skull still inside.
“Solcloud, you too?” Mayvn began to panic as he pulled the cover sheet to reveal a rusty suit of armor and aged bones.
“I am not excited to have to wake you my little friend,” he made his way to the last of the three bedrolls.
“Beasley, are you all right? He lifted the blanket that should have been covering a healthy little halfling in dark red clothing, but it also revealed another skeleton in a black hooded robe and clothing that had aged to tatters.
“Oh my, now what am I to do? I can’t remember how I got in here; let alone how I am to get out.” Mayvn started biting his nails as he grabbed his pack and slowly edged back to a wall. He jumped as he bumped into it, dropping his torch. The flame of the torch sputtered out as it hit the ground. Now cast into the flicker of firelight, every shadow and every noise seemed to be a beast coming for his thin and helpless body. A distant sound of rocks settling could be heard in the distance, echoing towards him.
“Who’s there?” He yelped as he reached for the torch.
“I am just skin and bones,” He tried bargaining with the darkness. “I am not even worth the fuss for a meal.” He picked up the torch and recited the activation word again. “Radiantino!”
The torch sputtered back to life, illuminating the room once again. Nothing lay in the room now except for the three skeletal remains of Zander, Beasley and Solcloud as well as his dependable lute, his pack and his hat, Betsy II.”
As he searched through the campsite of any clue as to what happened, he could see footprints in the dirt going off into the darkness.
“Well, I suppose I could follow the tracks and find out what or who befell my friends.” Mayvn spoke to himself when he was nervous. Being in a dark cavern alone, in the dark was reason enough for anyone to be nervous. He gathered up his effects, slung his lute over his back, flopped his wide brimmed ‘Betsy II’ on his muddled hair and made his way in the directions of the shuffled footprints in the dark. With one hand on his hat and one hand on the torch, he ducked through the tunnels, ever aware of the dirty and cobweb filled caverns he walked through.
“Please, don’t let there be anymore spiders.” He whimpered to himself as he stepped into a large room. He noticed the footprints split off in two directions. Two sets seemed to go off towards a pile of rocks and a secret doorway that was opened just enough to be noticed. Those footprints then came back and joined up with the footprints back to his campsite.
“Curious, it seems that someone ventured to that doorway over there then came back to attack my fellows as they slept.” Mayvn thought out the footprints in detail. “I am no tracker, but I assume those footprints probably were troops gathering weapons to fight my friends… or worse to gather a wizard to help.” He gulped. “I sure hope I don’t find him, I would hate to hurt him.”
Mayvn walked towards the rock pile and gingerly made his way up and into the hallway within. He took a step down the hallway and felt a sharp pain in his boot. “Scorpion!” He shrieked as he waved the torch by his boot. He was embarrassed to find a dart sticking out of his boot.
“Oh my, I hope there wasn’t poison in it.” He gingerly rubbed his foot and walked on. As he walked, he felt a little light headed and less adventurous.
“Perhaps I should rest for a moment.” He sat down, and rubbed his foot again. “Well, that dart looked like it had already used its poison on a previous victim. I should probably watch for infection, a small bit could have still been inside.”
He rested a moment, leaning up against the wall with Betsy II safely in his lap. He turned to look at the edge of the torchlight; in the dim light, he could see another door, with a small sign on it. He stood up, dusted off his fine silks that had been wrinkled from days of wear. He looked at his poor ruffled clothing and curled his nose as he brushed them off with Betsy II…
“I must find a good cleaner to wash my effects after we are done here.” He gazed up at the door and then looked to the ground inspecting the travel of the many footprints he intended to follow. There were many shuffled footprints and scuffs in the dirt surrounding the doorway. Gazing further up he found a sign written in a crude form of dwarf, more commonly used by giants.
“Well, this sign could mean anything from danger to dining hall to one such as me.” Mayvn flopped his hat back on his head and adjusted her brim.
“What do you say, Betsy? Shall we open it and see if we find danger or a dining hall?” He tapped his hat and a smile curled his lips as he pushed the door open. He peered into the darkness as he waived his torch around to inspect the entryway but he saw nothing only more footprints past a shuffle of dust in the doorway. Mayvn scoffed at the lack of guarding of this passageway and then stepped through the doorway. Without warning, the giant glowing hand returned, just as it had with Beasley and Zander. It gripped Mayvn by his coat and flung him out the door. As Mayvn shuffled to a stop on the outside of the doorway, his torch spun on the ground but continued to burn. He looked up and saw that his hat, Betsy II, lay on the other side.
“Betsy!!!” Mayvn scrambled to grab his poor hat that lay helpless feet inside the door. The ghostly hand then slammed the door. Mayvn sat on the one side of the door, while his hat lay on the other; he curled his feet up and slumped his head onto his knees. “I am not a dungeoneer nor am I a true adventurer, but I know I cannot do it alone. Perhaps a show of manners would be more in order.” Mayvn stood up and cleared his eyes of the dirt and he pushed his jacket straight again and stood without a slouch and cleared his throat.
“My name is Mayvn Dyse and I wish to retrieve my hat!” Mayvn announced as he knocked on the door. “Hello?” With that show of manners, the door swung open. Mayvn stepped through the door, and stepped back, then through one more time. He swiftly swept up Betsy, flopped her back on his head, and straightened the brim.
“I know when I am not wanted, I will turn away. I thank you for letting me retrieve my Betsy.” With that, he pulled Betsy off his head and with a grandiose sweeping motion, he stepped back with a curtsy and bowed deep. He stood back up proudly, turned on his heels, and began to step away from the door. With a swift motion, the heavy door slammed shut again behind him. Mayvn jumped and checked his coattails to make sure they were not caught in the doorway and scurried away.
“I suppose I should try to find out where the other footprints lead in the other direction.” Mayvn picked up the torch and walked back towards the rock pile and the large room. After some difficulty, trying to lower himself down the rocky pile while not getting dirty he almost made it to the bottom. Just as he took his last step he placed his foot on a small loose rock hidden in the shadow of his torchlight and slipped and fell right on his face.
“Oh, damn, now I am even dirtier.” Mayvn pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off once again. “I will definitely need my silks cleaned Othroughly after this little adventure. However, before that I must find funding to have them cleaned. I have sung of adventurers finding wealth in dungeons and abandoned castles. There must be hidden treasures here.” Mayvn began to walk briskly towards the stairway, following the other footsteps, but he stopped just short of descending downward.
“Oh my, but I have also sung of these adventurers fighting against unbearable odds.” Mayvn started down the dusty stairway, each step seemed to echo with every footfall of his hard-soled shoes. He grasped the handrail and slowed his pace as to try to quiet his shoes.
“My, my, this will not do.” Mayvn sat on the steps a moment, removed his shoes, and put them in his bag.
“If I continue to make such a ruckus I will wake the dead.” Mayvn stood up and continued walking down the stairs, with more effort and moving quietly.
“And goodness knows the dead need their rest or they will become grumpy.” He continued to talk to himself as he slid one hand down the railing and with the other; he held the torch up high. Slowly descending flights of the spiral staircase, he continued to mumble to himself as if to subconsciously warn things of his approach and to scare the smaller threats away.
“I would rather like to avoid making the dead grumpy or worse yet waking something bigger like a dragon.” Mayvn reached the bottom of the stairs to the large landing. Three doors lay open while the others remained closed.
“My, my, it seems someone has lost their manners and left these doors open.” Mayvn sat on the bottom stair as he slipped his heeled shoes back on his feet, then he also polished the large buckles on his shoes.
“Perhaps I should close them?”
As he stood up and straightened his jacket, Mayvn looked up and could see a dim light coming from one of the doors. “Oh goodness, something is down there. Perhaps I should investigate the light source.”
Mayvn walked towards the doorway and stepped through as his torchlight began to be complimented with the dim light further down the hallway.
“Did someone let the fire go out?” He fumbled around with his pack trying to find the torch.
“What did you do with the torch the mage gave us, Beasley? You know the one that its flame never goes out?” He continued to search in his pack for his ‘spare’ torch.
“Damn, I will have to remember to have a certain pouch made so I can find the thing a little easier.” He grasped onto a thick wooden stick, wrapped in a small bit of leather wrapped around one end, and a cup on the other.
“Radiantino!” The torch burst into flame, showering sparks that popped and hissed as they fell to the ground. Mayvn looked around to campsite, the fire’s embers had been out for some time and they were not even warm to the touch. Everyone seemed to still be curled up in their bedrolls and thin travel blankets.
“Beasley!” Mayvn looked to the smallest lump in the circle of blankets. “Beasley, you fool! Why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”
Mayvn stood up and stretched once more. He walked to the far end of the small alcove they had spent the night in to take care of some morning business. He walked back to the campsite with a sigh and bent over to relight the campfire with his torch. The campfire sparked and hissed as if it too had been rudely interrupted from a deep slumber. Mayvn walked over to Zander and nudged the largest of the bedrolls with his toe.
“Zander, what’s for breakfast?” The blanket and huge mass didn’t move from its position. “I sure could use some of your maple cured meat, I am starved and I have nothing in my pack but salted pork for emergencies.” Still there was no sign of movement from the bedroll. Mayvn crouched down to lift the blanket from over the large mass.
“EEEEK!” Mayvn let out a shrill cry like a wash maid who found a mouse in the laundry. Where once a large half-ogre was now lay a half-ogre skeleton in rusty chain mail and tattered robes. A rusty hammer also lay next to the aged set of bones.
“Solcloud, Beasley, come quickly! Zander has been…disintegrated in his sleep.” Mayvn danced around the fire, he shuttered as if something was crawling on his skin. He made his way over to the two other bedrolls on the opposite end of the fire pit. He nudged the larger of the two and a rusted helmet rolled out with a skull still inside.
“Solcloud, you too?” Mayvn began to panic as he pulled the cover sheet to reveal a rusty suit of armor and aged bones.
“I am not excited to have to wake you my little friend,” he made his way to the last of the three bedrolls.
“Beasley, are you all right? He lifted the blanket that should have been covering a healthy little halfling in dark red clothing, but it also revealed another skeleton in a black hooded robe and clothing that had aged to tatters.
“Oh my, now what am I to do? I can’t remember how I got in here; let alone how I am to get out.” Mayvn started biting his nails as he grabbed his pack and slowly edged back to a wall. He jumped as he bumped into it, dropping his torch. The flame of the torch sputtered out as it hit the ground. Now cast into the flicker of firelight, every shadow and every noise seemed to be a beast coming for his thin and helpless body. A distant sound of rocks settling could be heard in the distance, echoing towards him.
“Who’s there?” He yelped as he reached for the torch.
“I am just skin and bones,” He tried bargaining with the darkness. “I am not even worth the fuss for a meal.” He picked up the torch and recited the activation word again. “Radiantino!”
The torch sputtered back to life, illuminating the room once again. Nothing lay in the room now except for the three skeletal remains of Zander, Beasley and Solcloud as well as his dependable lute, his pack and his hat, Betsy II.”
As he searched through the campsite of any clue as to what happened, he could see footprints in the dirt going off into the darkness.
“Well, I suppose I could follow the tracks and find out what or who befell my friends.” Mayvn spoke to himself when he was nervous. Being in a dark cavern alone, in the dark was reason enough for anyone to be nervous. He gathered up his effects, slung his lute over his back, flopped his wide brimmed ‘Betsy II’ on his muddled hair and made his way in the directions of the shuffled footprints in the dark. With one hand on his hat and one hand on the torch, he ducked through the tunnels, ever aware of the dirty and cobweb filled caverns he walked through.
“Please, don’t let there be anymore spiders.” He whimpered to himself as he stepped into a large room. He noticed the footprints split off in two directions. Two sets seemed to go off towards a pile of rocks and a secret doorway that was opened just enough to be noticed. Those footprints then came back and joined up with the footprints back to his campsite.
“Curious, it seems that someone ventured to that doorway over there then came back to attack my fellows as they slept.” Mayvn thought out the footprints in detail. “I am no tracker, but I assume those footprints probably were troops gathering weapons to fight my friends… or worse to gather a wizard to help.” He gulped. “I sure hope I don’t find him, I would hate to hurt him.”
Mayvn walked towards the rock pile and gingerly made his way up and into the hallway within. He took a step down the hallway and felt a sharp pain in his boot. “Scorpion!” He shrieked as he waved the torch by his boot. He was embarrassed to find a dart sticking out of his boot.
“Oh my, I hope there wasn’t poison in it.” He gingerly rubbed his foot and walked on. As he walked, he felt a little light headed and less adventurous.
“Perhaps I should rest for a moment.” He sat down, and rubbed his foot again. “Well, that dart looked like it had already used its poison on a previous victim. I should probably watch for infection, a small bit could have still been inside.”
He rested a moment, leaning up against the wall with Betsy II safely in his lap. He turned to look at the edge of the torchlight; in the dim light, he could see another door, with a small sign on it. He stood up, dusted off his fine silks that had been wrinkled from days of wear. He looked at his poor ruffled clothing and curled his nose as he brushed them off with Betsy II…
“I must find a good cleaner to wash my effects after we are done here.” He gazed up at the door and then looked to the ground inspecting the travel of the many footprints he intended to follow. There were many shuffled footprints and scuffs in the dirt surrounding the doorway. Gazing further up he found a sign written in a crude form of dwarf, more commonly used by giants.
“Well, this sign could mean anything from danger to dining hall to one such as me.” Mayvn flopped his hat back on his head and adjusted her brim.
“What do you say, Betsy? Shall we open it and see if we find danger or a dining hall?” He tapped his hat and a smile curled his lips as he pushed the door open. He peered into the darkness as he waived his torch around to inspect the entryway but he saw nothing only more footprints past a shuffle of dust in the doorway. Mayvn scoffed at the lack of guarding of this passageway and then stepped through the doorway. Without warning, the giant glowing hand returned, just as it had with Beasley and Zander. It gripped Mayvn by his coat and flung him out the door. As Mayvn shuffled to a stop on the outside of the doorway, his torch spun on the ground but continued to burn. He looked up and saw that his hat, Betsy II, lay on the other side.
“Betsy!!!” Mayvn scrambled to grab his poor hat that lay helpless feet inside the door. The ghostly hand then slammed the door. Mayvn sat on the one side of the door, while his hat lay on the other; he curled his feet up and slumped his head onto his knees. “I am not a dungeoneer nor am I a true adventurer, but I know I cannot do it alone. Perhaps a show of manners would be more in order.” Mayvn stood up and cleared his eyes of the dirt and he pushed his jacket straight again and stood without a slouch and cleared his throat.
“My name is Mayvn Dyse and I wish to retrieve my hat!” Mayvn announced as he knocked on the door. “Hello?” With that show of manners, the door swung open. Mayvn stepped through the door, and stepped back, then through one more time. He swiftly swept up Betsy, flopped her back on his head, and straightened the brim.
“I know when I am not wanted, I will turn away. I thank you for letting me retrieve my Betsy.” With that, he pulled Betsy off his head and with a grandiose sweeping motion, he stepped back with a curtsy and bowed deep. He stood back up proudly, turned on his heels, and began to step away from the door. With a swift motion, the heavy door slammed shut again behind him. Mayvn jumped and checked his coattails to make sure they were not caught in the doorway and scurried away.
“I suppose I should try to find out where the other footprints lead in the other direction.” Mayvn picked up the torch and walked back towards the rock pile and the large room. After some difficulty, trying to lower himself down the rocky pile while not getting dirty he almost made it to the bottom. Just as he took his last step he placed his foot on a small loose rock hidden in the shadow of his torchlight and slipped and fell right on his face.
“Oh, damn, now I am even dirtier.” Mayvn pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off once again. “I will definitely need my silks cleaned Othroughly after this little adventure. However, before that I must find funding to have them cleaned. I have sung of adventurers finding wealth in dungeons and abandoned castles. There must be hidden treasures here.” Mayvn began to walk briskly towards the stairway, following the other footsteps, but he stopped just short of descending downward.
“Oh my, but I have also sung of these adventurers fighting against unbearable odds.” Mayvn started down the dusty stairway, each step seemed to echo with every footfall of his hard-soled shoes. He grasped the handrail and slowed his pace as to try to quiet his shoes.
“My, my, this will not do.” Mayvn sat on the steps a moment, removed his shoes, and put them in his bag.
“If I continue to make such a ruckus I will wake the dead.” Mayvn stood up and continued walking down the stairs, with more effort and moving quietly.
“And goodness knows the dead need their rest or they will become grumpy.” He continued to talk to himself as he slid one hand down the railing and with the other; he held the torch up high. Slowly descending flights of the spiral staircase, he continued to mumble to himself as if to subconsciously warn things of his approach and to scare the smaller threats away.
“I would rather like to avoid making the dead grumpy or worse yet waking something bigger like a dragon.” Mayvn reached the bottom of the stairs to the large landing. Three doors lay open while the others remained closed.
“My, my, it seems someone has lost their manners and left these doors open.” Mayvn sat on the bottom stair as he slipped his heeled shoes back on his feet, then he also polished the large buckles on his shoes.
“Perhaps I should close them?”
As he stood up and straightened his jacket, Mayvn looked up and could see a dim light coming from one of the doors. “Oh goodness, something is down there. Perhaps I should investigate the light source.”
Mayvn walked towards the doorway and stepped through as his torchlight began to be complimented with the dim light further down the hallway.
Friday, February 19
Lunch appointment… (Original Fiction by Xan)
Zander groaned as he began to stand up, he held himself up on the wall slowly creeping to his feet by using his hands. His head felt like he was wearing a crown of marble. His knees buckled under his own weight and he saw the hallway begin to darken.
“Whoa there big fella!” Solcloud raced to get underneath him as Zander lost consciousness and fell like a tree felled by a lumberjack. Under Zander’s weight Solcloud dropped to his knees and slowly lowered Zander to the ground. Beasley raced to their fallen companion and tried to revive his large friend. He patted the giant on the face; Zander rolled his eyes and slowly fluttered them open. Beasley took a small vial of healing potion and force-fed it to his friend. Solcloud looked quizzically at the rogue.
“Sometimes when I get a hangover after a good night in the local tavern,” Beasley winked. “I take a potion of cure light wounds to take care of it.” The paladin shook his head and smiled as Zander sat back up on his own power.
“I didn’t think the troll hit me that hard.” Zander smiled as he rubbed the bump on his head that was slowly fading.
“He threw you into a solid stone wall.” Beasley pointed to the slight indention in the wall. “Not only that, but you left your mark. It’s a good thing you didn’t feel the pain with the impact, you were angry.”
“I was protecting you.” Zander groaned as he tried to stand again, Solcloud helped him to his feet. “I feel I had a little too much of Jenny’s ale.”
They all laughed at the remark. Zander wrapped his arms around his chest and winced. “Let’s take it slow for a while, huh? Give my ring a chance to catch up with the potion, thanks Beasley for the ‘cobweb cleaner.”
“You’re welcome, big guy.” Beasley patted him on the back. “But next time, I can take care of myself.”
The group walked slowly back to the landing. Beasley scouted ahead to warn of any trouble while Solcloud let Zander use him as a crutch. Every step Zander seemed to get a little stronger and a little more confident. The ring seemed to be doing its job. Zander smiled as he looked at the troll carving on his ring. “I never thought I would be happy to have that ugly face on my ring. But I am glad it gives us similar healing abilities; however it seems to be slower than our headless friend back there.”
“Yes, but as long as you feel better.” Solcloud lifted Zander’s arm off his shoulder. “You able to walk?”
“Yes, thank you.” Zander winced a bit as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
“We made it back.” Beasley turned around after walking through the doorway in the landing. “What door next?”
“Let’s wait until Zander is ready.” Solcloud put his hand up to stop Beasley.
“I’m all right now.” Zander had his hammer in his hand and his shield off his shoulder as he walked into the torchlight. “Next time I won’t bother wrestling with them, I’ll just put them into the wall as payback.”
“Well, we have chosen the door to the right last time; you just want to keep going?” Beasley was already at the next-door and ready to open it.
Solcloud waved the little person on. “Go ahead, we are right behind you.”
This hallway seemed a little better kept. The stone was cut in elaborate patterns, perfect tiles on the floor, and gargoyles on the walls. The hallway had a thick musty smell in the air; it was thick with humidity and very dark. Mold seemed to be cleaned off the carvings almost daily, it seemed to be scrubbed too. As they continued to walk down the hallway, the mold began to thicken; the carvings were smoothing out and less obvious.
“We are getting close to something.” Solcloud drew his sword and pulled out his shield.
The air began to smell like rotting meat like a drowned piece of carrion soaking in water. The hint of metal also filled the air, like walking within a mile of a mint making coins. A low growl, almost like a purr could be heard in the darkness. Beasley snuck into the corner of the walls using the shadows as he proceeded forward. Solcloud held the torch high and could see the gleam from a pile of coins. Zander twisted his blink ring and faded. His voice echoed on the wind.
“I almost got the hang of this spinning feeling in my stomach. I’ll go take a look with Beasley”
Solcloud saw the hallway open up into a large room and then he heard a chilling voice in the darkness.
“Mmmmmm…. lunch.”
“Whoa there big fella!” Solcloud raced to get underneath him as Zander lost consciousness and fell like a tree felled by a lumberjack. Under Zander’s weight Solcloud dropped to his knees and slowly lowered Zander to the ground. Beasley raced to their fallen companion and tried to revive his large friend. He patted the giant on the face; Zander rolled his eyes and slowly fluttered them open. Beasley took a small vial of healing potion and force-fed it to his friend. Solcloud looked quizzically at the rogue.
“Sometimes when I get a hangover after a good night in the local tavern,” Beasley winked. “I take a potion of cure light wounds to take care of it.” The paladin shook his head and smiled as Zander sat back up on his own power.
“I didn’t think the troll hit me that hard.” Zander smiled as he rubbed the bump on his head that was slowly fading.
“He threw you into a solid stone wall.” Beasley pointed to the slight indention in the wall. “Not only that, but you left your mark. It’s a good thing you didn’t feel the pain with the impact, you were angry.”
“I was protecting you.” Zander groaned as he tried to stand again, Solcloud helped him to his feet. “I feel I had a little too much of Jenny’s ale.”
They all laughed at the remark. Zander wrapped his arms around his chest and winced. “Let’s take it slow for a while, huh? Give my ring a chance to catch up with the potion, thanks Beasley for the ‘cobweb cleaner.”
“You’re welcome, big guy.” Beasley patted him on the back. “But next time, I can take care of myself.”
The group walked slowly back to the landing. Beasley scouted ahead to warn of any trouble while Solcloud let Zander use him as a crutch. Every step Zander seemed to get a little stronger and a little more confident. The ring seemed to be doing its job. Zander smiled as he looked at the troll carving on his ring. “I never thought I would be happy to have that ugly face on my ring. But I am glad it gives us similar healing abilities; however it seems to be slower than our headless friend back there.”
“Yes, but as long as you feel better.” Solcloud lifted Zander’s arm off his shoulder. “You able to walk?”
“Yes, thank you.” Zander winced a bit as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
“We made it back.” Beasley turned around after walking through the doorway in the landing. “What door next?”
“Let’s wait until Zander is ready.” Solcloud put his hand up to stop Beasley.
“I’m all right now.” Zander had his hammer in his hand and his shield off his shoulder as he walked into the torchlight. “Next time I won’t bother wrestling with them, I’ll just put them into the wall as payback.”
“Well, we have chosen the door to the right last time; you just want to keep going?” Beasley was already at the next-door and ready to open it.
Solcloud waved the little person on. “Go ahead, we are right behind you.”
This hallway seemed a little better kept. The stone was cut in elaborate patterns, perfect tiles on the floor, and gargoyles on the walls. The hallway had a thick musty smell in the air; it was thick with humidity and very dark. Mold seemed to be cleaned off the carvings almost daily, it seemed to be scrubbed too. As they continued to walk down the hallway, the mold began to thicken; the carvings were smoothing out and less obvious.
“We are getting close to something.” Solcloud drew his sword and pulled out his shield.
The air began to smell like rotting meat like a drowned piece of carrion soaking in water. The hint of metal also filled the air, like walking within a mile of a mint making coins. A low growl, almost like a purr could be heard in the darkness. Beasley snuck into the corner of the walls using the shadows as he proceeded forward. Solcloud held the torch high and could see the gleam from a pile of coins. Zander twisted his blink ring and faded. His voice echoed on the wind.
“I almost got the hang of this spinning feeling in my stomach. I’ll go take a look with Beasley”
Solcloud saw the hallway open up into a large room and then he heard a chilling voice in the darkness.
“Mmmmmm…. lunch.”
Tuesday, February 16
Need the help of my fans...
I want to thank everyone that follows the blog. I know it has been a while since I have done a post other than my Original Fiction sections. But life has been difficult and work and school are demanding a lot of my time.
BUT there is hope! I am going to be enrolling in a CREATIVE WRITING in a couple weeks. My first assignment is to write a 1,400 word story about any picture of my choosing. I have decided to use this pic by the AMAZING artist Wayne Reynolds
The problem I am facing is names for the characters in the picture. I am going to use Jenny from my ORIGINAL FICTION as the female pirate and so now I just need a name for the shark dude?
Twitter has given me the following names: (In no particular order)
The Dreaded Pirate Blackfin
Basil Von Mako
Johannes the Gut Ripper
Jawgoulous
Blackfin
Admiral/Captain Ripsaw
First Mate Serrated Edge
Captain Hexanbite
Razortooth
Blood Maul
or...
The media named him 'Razorslash' - his parents named him 'Barry' - but his friends call him 'Captain Nibbles'
PLEASE HELP ME SOON! The story is due on 3/4/2010
Friday, January 29
Clash of giants… (Original Fiction by Xan)
As Beasley cautiously unlatched the next door, he slowly pushed it open. This hallway was very similar to the last, though the hallway was a bit longer, they could not see the end in the dim torchlight. The musty smell rotting vegetation filled the air, though thicker and more acrid than the last. “Smells as though this room has had its share of waste a little longer.”
“SHHHHH!” Zander stopped them in their tracks, and then he moved in front of them. Like a hunting dog tracking its quarry, he pricked his ears. “Beasley, cover your light, can you hear that?” Zander whispered to the group.
“I hear nothing.” Solcloud stoutly mumbles.
“You don’t speak Giantish, do you?” Beasley snickered as though everyone should know the several languages he spoke. “I thought you were an educated man.” Beasley laughed quietly as Solcloud glared at him. “What is he saying Zander?”
“He is complaining about… trash.” Zander got a confused look on his face. “Something about being upset that he has been given trash duty. And he’d rather be defending the keep.” Zander slowly drew his hammer and shield as he slowly advanced. “Let us proceed with caution.”
The others drew their weapons; Beasley pulled his hood over his head and backed against the wall as they advanced toward the mumbling creature. When they approached in the dark Zander made out their quarry, a creature more than a foot taller than Zander with gray rubbery skin. The creature was carrying a large basket or barrel over its hunched back; it spilled over with refuse and half decomposed plants and vegetables. The creature did not hear their approach because it was too busy talking to itself.
“Why do we get stuck with trash duty? A troll like us, strong and limber, deserves to be defending the tower. Protecting our fiery god, not stuck down here taking care of the rubbish. We should be dealing with intruders and feeding on their remains, but instead we end up here.” The troll dropped the basket and wiped its brow, it turned towards the approaching party. “We see INTRUDERS!!!” Without a second of hesitation, the creature lumbered in a frontal attack.
Beasley gasped as the creature swiftly closed the gap between them. He leveled his crossbow and loosed a bolt that went high and wide. This seemed to only provoke the creature to a greater act of rage. Zander took this opportunity to run at the troll and the two giants collided and locked arms in a dance of death. Both frothed at the mouth, muscles flexed, and sinews tightened. Neither would give ground to the other.
“What are we waiting for?” Beasley ran to the aid of his friend.
Solcloud drew his mighty sword and let out a stout battle cry as he too charged into battle. Zander occupied the beast while the other two slashed and poked at its thick hide. Nevertheless, as every gash and every wound spouted blood, it immediately closed off.
“FIRE!” Solcloud shouted as though it was an order, but it was more of a request.
“Beasley, ignite your torch, they cannot regenerate that which is burned!” The mighty giants twisted and turned in the small hallway. Smashing into the walls, dirt falling to the ground from the ceiling, Solcloud narrowly avoiding being crushed between them and the stone walls. “Hurry little one! Zander is fading.”
It was true. Even though he was holding the monster off, Zander was tiring. Every smash into the walls that seemed to break to shoulders of the troll, it immediately restored itself. Zander also was taking similar abuse, and thanks to his troll ring, he was holding his own, but his magical healing could not match the speed of the natural healing of the troll. Every smash, every twist seemed to grind him further down.
Beasley relight his torch and as Solcloud slashed at the troll, Beasley pushed the flame of the torch into the open wound.
“AAHHHH!” The troll shrieked in agony as the wound sizzled but did not heal. “It burns us!” The troll shrieked in Giantish, “You filthy monster burned us!”
With a renewed flow of strength, the troll threw Zander to the wall, knocking him unconscious. The troll then reached for the halfling. Beasley ducked between the giants’ legs and pushed the head of the torch into the back of its bare leg, right at its knee. The troll cursed at the halfling and reached between its legs to grasp hopelessly at the small halfling. This fraction of a second gave the paladin the opening he needed to slash at the monsters head. He caught it clean between its shoulders and head. The head of the beast, separated now from the body, fell to the ground with a hollow thump. The body also fell in a grotesque slump. Solcloud held his hand out to Beasley to silently ask for the torch. Beasley threw him the torch, Solcloud pushed the torch into the open neck, the troll ignited within, and bursts into flames, as its half-living body thrashed on the ground then smoldered into ash. He threw the torch back to the halfling who was crouched over looking at the still living head. Beasley took the nod from Solcloud as an order to ignite the head. He did as he was signaled to do, the head rolled to the side and burned to ash.
“Nasty things, trolls.” Solcloud said in a disgusted tone. “Luckily I had run across them before and I knew their weakness, fire. We would have been here for days in a stalemate, with our rings and his natural ability. Beasley, you want to check down the hallway in the refuse room?”
“Not with what you told me.” Beasley shuddered at the mere thought of running into one of those garbage monsters. “I am not going in there alone.”
“I’ll go with you.” Zander hefted himself up against the wall then slumped into a sitting position propped against the wall. He rubbed his head and checked his hands for blood. “What did I miss?” He rolled his neck to check everything was still attached.
“You wait here and let the ring do its thing, Beasley and I will check down the hall.” Solcloud pointed down the hallway in the direction the troll was walking. “We will yell to you if we…” Beasley coughed, showing his apprehension. “If we see, or run into something.”
“SHHHHH!” Zander stopped them in their tracks, and then he moved in front of them. Like a hunting dog tracking its quarry, he pricked his ears. “Beasley, cover your light, can you hear that?” Zander whispered to the group.
“I hear nothing.” Solcloud stoutly mumbles.
“You don’t speak Giantish, do you?” Beasley snickered as though everyone should know the several languages he spoke. “I thought you were an educated man.” Beasley laughed quietly as Solcloud glared at him. “What is he saying Zander?”
“He is complaining about… trash.” Zander got a confused look on his face. “Something about being upset that he has been given trash duty. And he’d rather be defending the keep.” Zander slowly drew his hammer and shield as he slowly advanced. “Let us proceed with caution.”
The others drew their weapons; Beasley pulled his hood over his head and backed against the wall as they advanced toward the mumbling creature. When they approached in the dark Zander made out their quarry, a creature more than a foot taller than Zander with gray rubbery skin. The creature was carrying a large basket or barrel over its hunched back; it spilled over with refuse and half decomposed plants and vegetables. The creature did not hear their approach because it was too busy talking to itself.
“Why do we get stuck with trash duty? A troll like us, strong and limber, deserves to be defending the tower. Protecting our fiery god, not stuck down here taking care of the rubbish. We should be dealing with intruders and feeding on their remains, but instead we end up here.” The troll dropped the basket and wiped its brow, it turned towards the approaching party. “We see INTRUDERS!!!” Without a second of hesitation, the creature lumbered in a frontal attack.
Beasley gasped as the creature swiftly closed the gap between them. He leveled his crossbow and loosed a bolt that went high and wide. This seemed to only provoke the creature to a greater act of rage. Zander took this opportunity to run at the troll and the two giants collided and locked arms in a dance of death. Both frothed at the mouth, muscles flexed, and sinews tightened. Neither would give ground to the other.
“What are we waiting for?” Beasley ran to the aid of his friend.
Solcloud drew his mighty sword and let out a stout battle cry as he too charged into battle. Zander occupied the beast while the other two slashed and poked at its thick hide. Nevertheless, as every gash and every wound spouted blood, it immediately closed off.
“FIRE!” Solcloud shouted as though it was an order, but it was more of a request.
“Beasley, ignite your torch, they cannot regenerate that which is burned!” The mighty giants twisted and turned in the small hallway. Smashing into the walls, dirt falling to the ground from the ceiling, Solcloud narrowly avoiding being crushed between them and the stone walls. “Hurry little one! Zander is fading.”
It was true. Even though he was holding the monster off, Zander was tiring. Every smash into the walls that seemed to break to shoulders of the troll, it immediately restored itself. Zander also was taking similar abuse, and thanks to his troll ring, he was holding his own, but his magical healing could not match the speed of the natural healing of the troll. Every smash, every twist seemed to grind him further down.
Beasley relight his torch and as Solcloud slashed at the troll, Beasley pushed the flame of the torch into the open wound.
“AAHHHH!” The troll shrieked in agony as the wound sizzled but did not heal. “It burns us!” The troll shrieked in Giantish, “You filthy monster burned us!”
With a renewed flow of strength, the troll threw Zander to the wall, knocking him unconscious. The troll then reached for the halfling. Beasley ducked between the giants’ legs and pushed the head of the torch into the back of its bare leg, right at its knee. The troll cursed at the halfling and reached between its legs to grasp hopelessly at the small halfling. This fraction of a second gave the paladin the opening he needed to slash at the monsters head. He caught it clean between its shoulders and head. The head of the beast, separated now from the body, fell to the ground with a hollow thump. The body also fell in a grotesque slump. Solcloud held his hand out to Beasley to silently ask for the torch. Beasley threw him the torch, Solcloud pushed the torch into the open neck, the troll ignited within, and bursts into flames, as its half-living body thrashed on the ground then smoldered into ash. He threw the torch back to the halfling who was crouched over looking at the still living head. Beasley took the nod from Solcloud as an order to ignite the head. He did as he was signaled to do, the head rolled to the side and burned to ash.
“Nasty things, trolls.” Solcloud said in a disgusted tone. “Luckily I had run across them before and I knew their weakness, fire. We would have been here for days in a stalemate, with our rings and his natural ability. Beasley, you want to check down the hallway in the refuse room?”
“Not with what you told me.” Beasley shuddered at the mere thought of running into one of those garbage monsters. “I am not going in there alone.”
“I’ll go with you.” Zander hefted himself up against the wall then slumped into a sitting position propped against the wall. He rubbed his head and checked his hands for blood. “What did I miss?” He rolled his neck to check everything was still attached.
“You wait here and let the ring do its thing, Beasley and I will check down the hall.” Solcloud pointed down the hallway in the direction the troll was walking. “We will yell to you if we…” Beasley coughed, showing his apprehension. “If we see, or run into something.”
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