sup ppl, i wrote this on an impulse a long long time ago, in a galaxy far away{was listening to coldplay and reading this article about the Adeptus Mechanicus from wh40k folklore}. anyways, see if you can make sense of it....(i cudn't). and as usual i didn't edit it cos im lazy
i blinked and it was gone.
it was there just a second ago.
i blinked and i was lost
i was there just a second ago.
stone pillars and marble sky, white grass and green clouds
a lone recursive staircase, going everywhere and gone
reason burning with emotion , thunder of truthful clouds
and a forgotten mansion , everything's home.
in this mansion were many things common
in this mansion was a large mythical dragon
in this mansion i learned so much
in this mansion i burned so much
creaking floorboards always creak and broken windows always break
coffee keeps you up until you sleep, you can only shout in your head
closed closets always open and ticking clocks always clock
chairs seat you until you stand, the world bears you until you are dead.
in this mansion were many things common
in this mansion was a large mythical dragon
in this mansion i saw it once
in this mansion i saw it ; i'm done.
some truths are relative, some relatives are stone
a mobius-strip knife, slicing everything and none
a tiny indistinct pearl , in the centre of a hall, alone;
and this forgotten mansion, everything's home.
in this mansion were many djinn shamans
in this mansion was a large mythical barman
in this mansion i learned so much
in this mansion i saw it; i'm done.
this world is the equation, this world is the medium
a stencil to sketch mountains, a mould to shape seas
its a template for civilization, an economic theorem
and the forgotten mansion, everything's home.
but then it was gone, and i was on my knees in sand that chafed
the sun was burning, not an equation in the sky
i had blinked and it was gone.
it was there just a second ago.
i had blinked and i was lost
i was there just a second ago.
And now i'm lost.
Thursday, 16 December 2010
Monday, 29 November 2010
Armageddon Notice.
This one is actually complete. But it's not really a story.
t
-----------------------------------------------------
The sky is on fire. To the east, I see it. An incandescent ball of fire so hot I cannot even look directly at it. Every time I try to, the primeval explosion sears my eyes and I must look away. A temperature inhuman, a landscape unimaginable awaits our world. It is approaching, and it is beyond our weak, infantile powers to save our world from this ancient monster out of legend and rhyme.
But there are other things on my mind. The lawn must be trimmed. That section by the fence is particularly unkempt. I'll have to get it done by noon, so I can relax with a movie after lunch. I hate working after lunch. Especially with the sun on your back. Its positively infernal today. I mean, it was hot yesterday, but this is almost insane. I wonder whats on the telly today.
-----------------------------------------------------
I find it incredible that we as a race spend our every waking day under the sun, an object of almost indescribable power and meaning, a machine from an age so distant it escapes the real of imagination, yet afford it no more than an adjustment of car shades.
t
-----------------------------------------------------
The sky is on fire. To the east, I see it. An incandescent ball of fire so hot I cannot even look directly at it. Every time I try to, the primeval explosion sears my eyes and I must look away. A temperature inhuman, a landscape unimaginable awaits our world. It is approaching, and it is beyond our weak, infantile powers to save our world from this ancient monster out of legend and rhyme.
But there are other things on my mind. The lawn must be trimmed. That section by the fence is particularly unkempt. I'll have to get it done by noon, so I can relax with a movie after lunch. I hate working after lunch. Especially with the sun on your back. Its positively infernal today. I mean, it was hot yesterday, but this is almost insane. I wonder whats on the telly today.
-----------------------------------------------------
I find it incredible that we as a race spend our every waking day under the sun, an object of almost indescribable power and meaning, a machine from an age so distant it escapes the real of imagination, yet afford it no more than an adjustment of car shades.
Silence
Written nitially for some highschool writing competition I don't remember. Me, i missed the deadline, as i must.
Inspired just a little bit by Diablo II.
Speculate on what happens after the end!
I don't have a clue
---------------------------------------------------
The Sound Of Silence
“You know, back in Erewell, silence is a pretty relative thing.”
“Silence?”,asked Fulgrin, only a little surprised.
“Yes , silence”, retorted Arie. “I'd say we have a pretty unconventional way of expressing it.”
Selvin picked up his pace, suddenly interested in what Arie had to say.
“You actually express silence?”, he queried,” How?”
“Well , back in Erewell, as I said, silence is a pretty broad term. Its actually pretty hard to define it.”
“The Absence of Sound maybe?”, suggested Selvin.
“You would think that wouldn't you?,” smiled Arie. “But we dont belive in making things simple, even for ourselves. Silence, down in Erewell at least, can be found in the thick of battle, in a tavern, even at a concert hall.”
“You mean its an art form?”, murmured Silvan, suddenly in his own thoughts.
“No no, you misunderstand!”, said Arie, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Its like the word is used to describe certain actions rather than-”. She cut off as she saw Fulgrin further up the path , his hand raised to his lips in the universal signal of Silence. She even imagined him saying a, “shh”.
Fulgrin looked unsure. He seemed to be listening very hard, and then with a sudden motion, he fell flat to the ground, and signalled the others to do the same. With barely a sound the party assumed crouched positions in the thick mulch of the forest floor. Arie took up position near the middle of the group, dropping her pack to the ground. Minutes passed in tense silence. Halacios quietly moved up to where Selvin was crouched, his blade drawn and whispered, “I don't sense anything”. Selvan nodded, and then with a barely perceptible grin, whispered back,“I think I do”. Finally, Fulgrin stood back up and started to brush the leaves off his jacket. “I was sure I heard something” he said, looking sheepish.
And then, from the trees , down jumped two figures. Both were clad similarly , the greens and the browns of their jackets almost indistinguishable from those of the forest thicket. The taller of the two landed to Fulgrim's right, his face to the leaf mulch on the floor, while the shorter one tumbled down to Fulgrim's left, only a second later. The Forest suddenly was filled with the sound of mirth, as the party fell once again to the floor, laughing. Only Fulgrin stood, his sword drawn in battle stance, his face a surprised mixture of alarmity and confusion. Silvan, Halacios and Wex were beside themselves with laughter, and it was all Arie could do to stand up straight again.The Yellow Twins, as they called them, were painfully pushing themselves to their feet, blushing.
“Yep, looks like we miscalculated that one, Alex.”, said the taller boy .
“We?”, retorted an incredulous Alex, while she pushed her hair out of her face and tied it behind her head, “If you had jumped when I told you to, then I wouldn't have had to jump at all!”.
At this, Lander made a solemn face and said,”There is much I have to teach you yet”, which made Arie laugh even more uncontrollably. Fulgrin, who was now grinning from ear to ear , said, “ You can only teach her that which you know yourself, Lander my boy.”
“'Aye!”, said Wex,” I must say that was a fine display of stealthy falling son, I almost didn't notice you on your face! And you've taught your sister well too!”
The twins looked grinned sheepishly, and Alex mumbled something about being a fast learner.
Arie asked,” What in the Beard's name were you trying to attempt anyway?”, as she rolled her staff back into its leather wrap.
“We wanted to jump onto Fulgrin's big head and see if he'd notice us there!”, quipped Alex.
“And I certainly didn't notice you in your clever hiding place on the ground!,” laughed Fulgrin, “Your getting better at your game, my young lady”.
Alex put on a miffed expression and turned her back to Fulgrin, as though hurt, which only elicited more chuckles from the group.
Meanwhile, Wex, the short dark-haired man with the long bow, turned to Lander.“So, hows it look?”, he asked.
“We should be alright once we cross the river. We should be there by noon.”
Wex nodded, “Sounds like we've made good ground then”.
“That's not all,” said Lander, “Alex, tell them what you saw.”
Alex took her short bow back from Arie, and turned to face Wex. “ From what I could make out there seems to be some sort of a clearing, due east from here”,she pointed to somewhere in the distance, “on the other side of the river. Its like a bunch of treetops are missing”.
“Thats where its happening”said Selvin suddenly.
All eyes except those of Halacios turned to stare at him.
Selvin grinned apolegetically ,” I suppose its about time I explain myself”.
“I'd say it is, yeah”, said Wex sardonically.
“We'll lay this down nice and clear once we reach the river. Once we set up camp”, said Halacios,” I promise.”
--
“What do you perceive, Ashimra?”
“As of this morning, six, maybe seven of them.”
“Armed?”
“Atleast four are”.
“When will they reach the river?”
“Noon.”
--
The sun filtered down in streams through the canopies above. Shafts of light stabbed down into the forest , spilling into the soil in golden patches of syrupy yellow. Seven companions picked and plodded their way through the autumn forest floor, ankle deep with leaves and muck. The first was Fulgrin, and a warrior more pure of heart and vitality there has never been. That was his tagline anyway, these days employers were hesitant to hire people who didn't have proper representation and an advertising campaign. But Fulgrin certainly looked the part though, confidence gleaming in his eyes.. Next up were theYellow twins, shortbows at their hips, quivers slung across their backs. Surefooted, they skipped along rather than slogging about like the rest of the party. They flanked the group, eyes scanning the foliage. Except for their golden hair, there was no real indication that they were twins.
Arie , Selvin and Halacios came next, engrossed in conversation. Arie was an Elemental Sorceress who graduated from the Wilkinton Institute of the Elements Of Erewell, not three years ago. With a double major in Firebolt Mechanics and Dimensional Frost Dynamics , she was easily the most educated of the bunch. Her attire did nothing to show this of course, the leathers she wore were just leathers and nothing more. Enchantment was not her strong point, and neither was seeking another sorceress's help.
Selvin, when he first joined the group , had introduced himself as an “Alchemist, Necromancer, and Travelling Eccentric”. His garb , however suggested that necromancy was his preferred line of work.
A leather satchel hung at his side, various bits of bone adorning it. On his belt were strapped a few bottles filled with a dark , moody liquid and a jeweled dagger.
Halacios had joined the group with Selvin, and stood at great contrast to him. Being a Warrior-Priest of Krull, he was one of the few paladins to grace this side of the Dirkfen River since the political disintegration of his homeland. To say he was fully armored would have been an understatement. Only his head remained was visible under the full plate mail regalia. On his chest was painted the Sigil of Krull and on his left shoulderpad was the Oath of Constant Stoic. “Where is this river anyway?,” he said now, wiping the sweat of his brow and to nobody in particular,“I'm really cooking here in this cauldron of a breastplate”.
Wex, relatively short compared to the rest of the party (even Alex, who had seen only 17 summers) was a bowman through and through. Archery was a respected buisness in Viconia. The long bow he had slung over his back he inherited from his father, and was made from the finest yew. It barely cleared the ground. Bringing up the rear, he replied,”All in good time sonny boy. If Lander here knows what he's about, we should be there within the hour”.
Lander opened his mouth to say something but stopped as he saw the expression on his sister's face. She was looking behind them, back up the path they were travelling down, as though she had seen something and wasn't sure if she had.
Selvin said suddenly, “Eighteen, three crossbows”. He dropped to one knee and opened his satchel. And Fulgrin shouted, “ Gear up,Gear up!”, and suited action to words, unbuckling his claymore and dropping his pack. Selvin was on his knees, had already opened two of his bottles and was pulling more out of his satchel. Arie had pulled out her staff and was rummaging inside her pack for her bag of blueflare powder. Alex and Lander had already strung their bows and were taking to the nearest tree. Despite the urgent atmosphere, Wex took his time unwrapping his long bow and slowly going about stringing it. Selvin said now, with eyes suddenly distant, “ They will be upon us momentarily. Their movement is that of a group well-informed. Assassination is not their aim. They will be non-committal, but professional. One is schooled. It will be best if can get a salvo off first”. Halacios didn't bother saying his prayers, he had been battle ready since this morning, when the twins had tried to jump Fulgrin. Now he jumped from foot to foot, weighing his sword in his left hand.
“It's only the three of us here, that's not a bloody salvo, White Brother.”
Selvin looked up at Wex, his eyes still faraway. The flesh of his face was paler than before, and purple veins suddenly seemed to criss-cross his taut cheeks.
'We will hear them ..now.,” said Selvin and closed his eyes and let out a sharp gasp.
Fulgrin spat, 'Damn you , Necromancer'. He saw the bent and now wheezing man nod his own agreement through the corner of his eyes, eyes that were now fixated at a point in the distance. In the direction of the sound of clear unmistakeable footsteps trampling through the mush of the moldy forest around them.
And then Fulgrin donned his iron helm. A single stream of sunlight glinted off the great horns on either side of it.
The forest felt the approaching skirmish. The sound was now a constant noise of tinkling armor and marching pattern.
The leader, or the one farthest out, saw Fulgrin. Shouts, orders and the rasping of leather on metal joined the forest in the cacophany. Fulgrin breathed in, and let loose a massive guttural roar.
Arie murmured, raising her staff, “Silence in my heart will never be broken.”
Wex roared, “ SALVO!”.
Inspired just a little bit by Diablo II.
Speculate on what happens after the end!
I don't have a clue
---------------------------------------------------
The Sound Of Silence
“You know, back in Erewell, silence is a pretty relative thing.”
“Silence?”,asked Fulgrin, only a little surprised.
“Yes , silence”, retorted Arie. “I'd say we have a pretty unconventional way of expressing it.”
Selvin picked up his pace, suddenly interested in what Arie had to say.
“You actually express silence?”, he queried,” How?”
“Well , back in Erewell, as I said, silence is a pretty broad term. Its actually pretty hard to define it.”
“The Absence of Sound maybe?”, suggested Selvin.
“You would think that wouldn't you?,” smiled Arie. “But we dont belive in making things simple, even for ourselves. Silence, down in Erewell at least, can be found in the thick of battle, in a tavern, even at a concert hall.”
“You mean its an art form?”, murmured Silvan, suddenly in his own thoughts.
“No no, you misunderstand!”, said Arie, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Its like the word is used to describe certain actions rather than-”. She cut off as she saw Fulgrin further up the path , his hand raised to his lips in the universal signal of Silence. She even imagined him saying a, “shh”.
Fulgrin looked unsure. He seemed to be listening very hard, and then with a sudden motion, he fell flat to the ground, and signalled the others to do the same. With barely a sound the party assumed crouched positions in the thick mulch of the forest floor. Arie took up position near the middle of the group, dropping her pack to the ground. Minutes passed in tense silence. Halacios quietly moved up to where Selvin was crouched, his blade drawn and whispered, “I don't sense anything”. Selvan nodded, and then with a barely perceptible grin, whispered back,“I think I do”. Finally, Fulgrin stood back up and started to brush the leaves off his jacket. “I was sure I heard something” he said, looking sheepish.
And then, from the trees , down jumped two figures. Both were clad similarly , the greens and the browns of their jackets almost indistinguishable from those of the forest thicket. The taller of the two landed to Fulgrim's right, his face to the leaf mulch on the floor, while the shorter one tumbled down to Fulgrim's left, only a second later. The Forest suddenly was filled with the sound of mirth, as the party fell once again to the floor, laughing. Only Fulgrin stood, his sword drawn in battle stance, his face a surprised mixture of alarmity and confusion. Silvan, Halacios and Wex were beside themselves with laughter, and it was all Arie could do to stand up straight again.The Yellow Twins, as they called them, were painfully pushing themselves to their feet, blushing.
“Yep, looks like we miscalculated that one, Alex.”, said the taller boy .
“We?”, retorted an incredulous Alex, while she pushed her hair out of her face and tied it behind her head, “If you had jumped when I told you to, then I wouldn't have had to jump at all!”.
At this, Lander made a solemn face and said,”There is much I have to teach you yet”, which made Arie laugh even more uncontrollably. Fulgrin, who was now grinning from ear to ear , said, “ You can only teach her that which you know yourself, Lander my boy.”
“'Aye!”, said Wex,” I must say that was a fine display of stealthy falling son, I almost didn't notice you on your face! And you've taught your sister well too!”
The twins looked grinned sheepishly, and Alex mumbled something about being a fast learner.
Arie asked,” What in the Beard's name were you trying to attempt anyway?”, as she rolled her staff back into its leather wrap.
“We wanted to jump onto Fulgrin's big head and see if he'd notice us there!”, quipped Alex.
“And I certainly didn't notice you in your clever hiding place on the ground!,” laughed Fulgrin, “Your getting better at your game, my young lady”.
Alex put on a miffed expression and turned her back to Fulgrin, as though hurt, which only elicited more chuckles from the group.
Meanwhile, Wex, the short dark-haired man with the long bow, turned to Lander.“So, hows it look?”, he asked.
“We should be alright once we cross the river. We should be there by noon.”
Wex nodded, “Sounds like we've made good ground then”.
“That's not all,” said Lander, “Alex, tell them what you saw.”
Alex took her short bow back from Arie, and turned to face Wex. “ From what I could make out there seems to be some sort of a clearing, due east from here”,she pointed to somewhere in the distance, “on the other side of the river. Its like a bunch of treetops are missing”.
“Thats where its happening”said Selvin suddenly.
All eyes except those of Halacios turned to stare at him.
Selvin grinned apolegetically ,” I suppose its about time I explain myself”.
“I'd say it is, yeah”, said Wex sardonically.
“We'll lay this down nice and clear once we reach the river. Once we set up camp”, said Halacios,” I promise.”
--
“What do you perceive, Ashimra?”
“As of this morning, six, maybe seven of them.”
“Armed?”
“Atleast four are”.
“When will they reach the river?”
“Noon.”
--
The sun filtered down in streams through the canopies above. Shafts of light stabbed down into the forest , spilling into the soil in golden patches of syrupy yellow. Seven companions picked and plodded their way through the autumn forest floor, ankle deep with leaves and muck. The first was Fulgrin, and a warrior more pure of heart and vitality there has never been. That was his tagline anyway, these days employers were hesitant to hire people who didn't have proper representation and an advertising campaign. But Fulgrin certainly looked the part though, confidence gleaming in his eyes.. Next up were theYellow twins, shortbows at their hips, quivers slung across their backs. Surefooted, they skipped along rather than slogging about like the rest of the party. They flanked the group, eyes scanning the foliage. Except for their golden hair, there was no real indication that they were twins.
Arie , Selvin and Halacios came next, engrossed in conversation. Arie was an Elemental Sorceress who graduated from the Wilkinton Institute of the Elements Of Erewell, not three years ago. With a double major in Firebolt Mechanics and Dimensional Frost Dynamics , she was easily the most educated of the bunch. Her attire did nothing to show this of course, the leathers she wore were just leathers and nothing more. Enchantment was not her strong point, and neither was seeking another sorceress's help.
Selvin, when he first joined the group , had introduced himself as an “Alchemist, Necromancer, and Travelling Eccentric”. His garb , however suggested that necromancy was his preferred line of work.
A leather satchel hung at his side, various bits of bone adorning it. On his belt were strapped a few bottles filled with a dark , moody liquid and a jeweled dagger.
Halacios had joined the group with Selvin, and stood at great contrast to him. Being a Warrior-Priest of Krull, he was one of the few paladins to grace this side of the Dirkfen River since the political disintegration of his homeland. To say he was fully armored would have been an understatement. Only his head remained was visible under the full plate mail regalia. On his chest was painted the Sigil of Krull and on his left shoulderpad was the Oath of Constant Stoic. “Where is this river anyway?,” he said now, wiping the sweat of his brow and to nobody in particular,“I'm really cooking here in this cauldron of a breastplate”.
Wex, relatively short compared to the rest of the party (even Alex, who had seen only 17 summers) was a bowman through and through. Archery was a respected buisness in Viconia. The long bow he had slung over his back he inherited from his father, and was made from the finest yew. It barely cleared the ground. Bringing up the rear, he replied,”All in good time sonny boy. If Lander here knows what he's about, we should be there within the hour”.
Lander opened his mouth to say something but stopped as he saw the expression on his sister's face. She was looking behind them, back up the path they were travelling down, as though she had seen something and wasn't sure if she had.
Selvin said suddenly, “Eighteen, three crossbows”. He dropped to one knee and opened his satchel. And Fulgrin shouted, “ Gear up,Gear up!”, and suited action to words, unbuckling his claymore and dropping his pack. Selvin was on his knees, had already opened two of his bottles and was pulling more out of his satchel. Arie had pulled out her staff and was rummaging inside her pack for her bag of blueflare powder. Alex and Lander had already strung their bows and were taking to the nearest tree. Despite the urgent atmosphere, Wex took his time unwrapping his long bow and slowly going about stringing it. Selvin said now, with eyes suddenly distant, “ They will be upon us momentarily. Their movement is that of a group well-informed. Assassination is not their aim. They will be non-committal, but professional. One is schooled. It will be best if can get a salvo off first”. Halacios didn't bother saying his prayers, he had been battle ready since this morning, when the twins had tried to jump Fulgrin. Now he jumped from foot to foot, weighing his sword in his left hand.
“It's only the three of us here, that's not a bloody salvo, White Brother.”
Selvin looked up at Wex, his eyes still faraway. The flesh of his face was paler than before, and purple veins suddenly seemed to criss-cross his taut cheeks.
'We will hear them ..now.,” said Selvin and closed his eyes and let out a sharp gasp.
Fulgrin spat, 'Damn you , Necromancer'. He saw the bent and now wheezing man nod his own agreement through the corner of his eyes, eyes that were now fixated at a point in the distance. In the direction of the sound of clear unmistakeable footsteps trampling through the mush of the moldy forest around them.
And then Fulgrin donned his iron helm. A single stream of sunlight glinted off the great horns on either side of it.
The forest felt the approaching skirmish. The sound was now a constant noise of tinkling armor and marching pattern.
The leader, or the one farthest out, saw Fulgrin. Shouts, orders and the rasping of leather on metal joined the forest in the cacophany. Fulgrin breathed in, and let loose a massive guttural roar.
Arie murmured, raising her staff, “Silence in my heart will never be broken.”
Wex roared, “ SALVO!”.
Geminie - Chapter 1 of None : Monkey-Lizards of the Night Watch
I've always wanted to write a book. An explosive pedal-to-the-wood fantasy medieval action thriller. But I suck at sustained writing, and lose interest, inspiration and direction after an hour and never get around to it.
This was just an prologue for the book , just a bit of scene setting. But I lost direction and interest pretty soon. Let me know what you think of it.
I'd love any sort of criticism/commentary.
-------------------------------------------
The decrepit chunk of bread that fell into his hands looked anything but appetising. On first glimpse, it didn't look anything like bread. On the contrary, it reminded him of a dozen different and distinctly un-bread-like things, each one of them less appetising than the previous. Examining the chunk closer did not help dispel these images, rather added fuel to his now severely mouldy imagination. But Sargent Genko, Third Officer of the Night-Watch , pushed these rapidly decaying thoughts from his mind as he tore a grisly chunk of the hard brown loaf into his mouth. He had other things to worry about.
He adjusted his position, so that he was now seated upright with his back to the tree, on one of the lower, thicker branches. Nope, there was no way he could be sitting in a tree wondering about the quality of Greyherme's breads. There simply wasn't any time. The matter on his mind right now was of far paramount importance. And with sudden and acute embarrassment, Sargent Genko realized he had forgotten what he was supposed to be thinking about. It was right there , but he couldn't put his finger on it. The bread had distracted his otherwise brilliant mind with its discoloured sponginess.
"The forest trail, boss", said Finnelus,"You had that expression on your face."
Ah, yes the forest trail. The old half mile shortcut to Sheff's Landing, on the east side of the stream. It cut right through the forest, making bends to avoid the thicker vegetation, and was the quickest way to the river (or to eastern villages for that matter) without eliciting suspicion . Of late it has fallen out of urban use, with the ever present threat of opportunistic bog-monsters added to the newer threat of opportunistic thieves. Not that it wasn't of any use to anyone. Bog-monsters or not, thieves these days were as opportunistic as thieves can get.
The forest trail was now a channel for thievery, burglary, smuggling, and other generally outlawed haberdashery. If the city of Greyherme was a seething cauldron of toxic criminal activity, the forest trail was the drain-pipe.
For years the Night-Watch have spent learning the part of the forest the trail encompassed, learning it like the back of their palms, familiarizing themselves with every eave under every branch on every tree . Their goal : to catch suspicious night-time individual(s) between a rock and a hard place so to speak. Cutting off the escape route completely would only discourage the smugglers and thieves from using the trail. But the Night-Watch instead made their home the forest. Acclimatizing themselves to the heights, flying with rapid speed across the treeline , they became phantoms of the forest pouncing on would-be evil-doers from the sky. Sometimes they stay hidden in trees for entire nights, waiting to aerially surprise shady citizens who were out for a night of shadily smuggling shady goods. Today was one of those nights. The crescent in the night sky provided enough light for our brave tree-borne heroes to calmly assess any threat before throwing themselves squarely on it, swords drawn.
Finnelus smirked. "I bet your thinking about jumping them."
Sarge Genko leaned forward with the air of one who has very recently struck upon an an absolutely nefarious and clever idea and can't wait to tell everyone, and said, suddenly impatient," Yes, yes, but this just might work!"
Finnelus grinned this time. "We're in 15-foot high trees this time boss, your going to have to think something up that's actually legit. We've never even been in this forest before."
"Ropes man, Ropes! We tie ourselves to the branches and jump down! Double-corded twelve feet cuts for a man! We time it right , our suspicious suspects find themselves surrounded by ten of the finest air-borne swords in Greyherme!"
"Hear, Hear!", laughed Colnick, a few levels of branches below them.
Finnelus said," And if they decide to keep going?", the whites of his teeth glowing in the faint moonlight.
"Angry words man! Angry words! We hurl them for Greyherme!"
A few more chuckles joined in.
Finnelus gave the boss a look. "What's really on your mind boss?", he asked.
"Well,remember that reporter for the Inquistioner I told you about? She's coming over tomorrow, when shift ends , to get a 'real look' at the life of an Officer of the Night-Watch. And she still thinks that we literally pounce on the twerps when we see them and pin them to to the ground. The city's got this idea that were some sort of a band of renegade jungle-dwelling vigilante assassins. Where they got that idea is beyond me. This is only the third time I've been in this cursed forest myself, and …. well Finny, I don't have the heart to tell her otherwise."
"Is the Sarge, maybe...?", said Finnelus, leaving the question hanging in the air ,to Genko's annoyance.
"She's half my age ,boy!", said the Sarge, while he absent-mindedly put another piece of the bread into his mouth and grimaced. "I'd have told her we ain't monkeying-bloody-raccoons a long time ago, if only she'd let me edge a word in. That girl just can't control her yap. And now she's coming over tomorrow expecting us to show her the finer points of falling off a tree."
In the distance, an owl hooted somewhat mounfully.
Genko heard it. “Squad, the owl has hooted”, he said sagely.
Finnelus was only a little less lethargic, “Buckle up, buckle up. Blades out gentlemen, we want to make a point or few tonight. Thieves of Greyherme have gone by unpunished for years . The Queen , in an effort to rectify this glaring miss-allocation of pain and hurt, have dispatched us to put the scare back in the scum.”
All around him, shaped in the darkness climbed down gingerly from their arboreal perches. Sounds of rasping leather, clinking mail, and stretching backbones were evident.
Genko was now crouched under the tree, listening intently.
In the distance, an owl hooted, and the tone was clearly mournful.
“Postitions, positions!”, said Genko.
In the distance he could make out a pinpoint light, blinking everytime it passed a tree. The light would be here momentarily.
Unbelievable, thought Genko, our first real effort in the crime-fighting business and looks like we've struck on something shiny already...
It couldn't have been more plain. A horse-drawn cart carrying a few large crates. They weren't even bothering to disguise the dope these days.
This was just an prologue for the book , just a bit of scene setting. But I lost direction and interest pretty soon. Let me know what you think of it.
I'd love any sort of criticism/commentary.
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The decrepit chunk of bread that fell into his hands looked anything but appetising. On first glimpse, it didn't look anything like bread. On the contrary, it reminded him of a dozen different and distinctly un-bread-like things, each one of them less appetising than the previous. Examining the chunk closer did not help dispel these images, rather added fuel to his now severely mouldy imagination. But Sargent Genko, Third Officer of the Night-Watch , pushed these rapidly decaying thoughts from his mind as he tore a grisly chunk of the hard brown loaf into his mouth. He had other things to worry about.
He adjusted his position, so that he was now seated upright with his back to the tree, on one of the lower, thicker branches. Nope, there was no way he could be sitting in a tree wondering about the quality of Greyherme's breads. There simply wasn't any time. The matter on his mind right now was of far paramount importance. And with sudden and acute embarrassment, Sargent Genko realized he had forgotten what he was supposed to be thinking about. It was right there , but he couldn't put his finger on it. The bread had distracted his otherwise brilliant mind with its discoloured sponginess.
"The forest trail, boss", said Finnelus,"You had that expression on your face."
Ah, yes the forest trail. The old half mile shortcut to Sheff's Landing, on the east side of the stream. It cut right through the forest, making bends to avoid the thicker vegetation, and was the quickest way to the river (or to eastern villages for that matter) without eliciting suspicion . Of late it has fallen out of urban use, with the ever present threat of opportunistic bog-monsters added to the newer threat of opportunistic thieves. Not that it wasn't of any use to anyone. Bog-monsters or not, thieves these days were as opportunistic as thieves can get.
The forest trail was now a channel for thievery, burglary, smuggling, and other generally outlawed haberdashery. If the city of Greyherme was a seething cauldron of toxic criminal activity, the forest trail was the drain-pipe.
For years the Night-Watch have spent learning the part of the forest the trail encompassed, learning it like the back of their palms, familiarizing themselves with every eave under every branch on every tree . Their goal : to catch suspicious night-time individual(s) between a rock and a hard place so to speak. Cutting off the escape route completely would only discourage the smugglers and thieves from using the trail. But the Night-Watch instead made their home the forest. Acclimatizing themselves to the heights, flying with rapid speed across the treeline , they became phantoms of the forest pouncing on would-be evil-doers from the sky. Sometimes they stay hidden in trees for entire nights, waiting to aerially surprise shady citizens who were out for a night of shadily smuggling shady goods. Today was one of those nights. The crescent in the night sky provided enough light for our brave tree-borne heroes to calmly assess any threat before throwing themselves squarely on it, swords drawn.
Finnelus smirked. "I bet your thinking about jumping them."
Sarge Genko leaned forward with the air of one who has very recently struck upon an an absolutely nefarious and clever idea and can't wait to tell everyone, and said, suddenly impatient," Yes, yes, but this just might work!"
Finnelus grinned this time. "We're in 15-foot high trees this time boss, your going to have to think something up that's actually legit. We've never even been in this forest before."
"Ropes man, Ropes! We tie ourselves to the branches and jump down! Double-corded twelve feet cuts for a man! We time it right , our suspicious suspects find themselves surrounded by ten of the finest air-borne swords in Greyherme!"
"Hear, Hear!", laughed Colnick, a few levels of branches below them.
Finnelus said," And if they decide to keep going?", the whites of his teeth glowing in the faint moonlight.
"Angry words man! Angry words! We hurl them for Greyherme!"
A few more chuckles joined in.
Finnelus gave the boss a look. "What's really on your mind boss?", he asked.
"Well,remember that reporter for the Inquistioner I told you about? She's coming over tomorrow, when shift ends , to get a 'real look' at the life of an Officer of the Night-Watch. And she still thinks that we literally pounce on the twerps when we see them and pin them to to the ground. The city's got this idea that were some sort of a band of renegade jungle-dwelling vigilante assassins. Where they got that idea is beyond me. This is only the third time I've been in this cursed forest myself, and …. well Finny, I don't have the heart to tell her otherwise."
"Is the Sarge, maybe...?", said Finnelus, leaving the question hanging in the air ,to Genko's annoyance.
"She's half my age ,boy!", said the Sarge, while he absent-mindedly put another piece of the bread into his mouth and grimaced. "I'd have told her we ain't monkeying-bloody-raccoons a long time ago, if only she'd let me edge a word in. That girl just can't control her yap. And now she's coming over tomorrow expecting us to show her the finer points of falling off a tree."
In the distance, an owl hooted somewhat mounfully.
Genko heard it. “Squad, the owl has hooted”, he said sagely.
Finnelus was only a little less lethargic, “Buckle up, buckle up. Blades out gentlemen, we want to make a point or few tonight. Thieves of Greyherme have gone by unpunished for years . The Queen , in an effort to rectify this glaring miss-allocation of pain and hurt, have dispatched us to put the scare back in the scum.”
All around him, shaped in the darkness climbed down gingerly from their arboreal perches. Sounds of rasping leather, clinking mail, and stretching backbones were evident.
Genko was now crouched under the tree, listening intently.
In the distance, an owl hooted, and the tone was clearly mournful.
“Postitions, positions!”, said Genko.
In the distance he could make out a pinpoint light, blinking everytime it passed a tree. The light would be here momentarily.
Unbelievable, thought Genko, our first real effort in the crime-fighting business and looks like we've struck on something shiny already...
It couldn't have been more plain. A horse-drawn cart carrying a few large crates. They weren't even bothering to disguise the dope these days.
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