Try...
Tip a Cow!
and for those interested...
Here's a little Sinfest!
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Sunday, February 15, 2004
More interesting links! (yes I'm bored)
Here's a cute little English lesson that brings back memories of my time in the Chinese Speech Lab of Xavier.
Here's another interesting experience in the world of international shockwave animations. A little music video (sung in Chinese) but I'm sure you'll understand the song enough just watching it. ;) If you can't read the opening screen, it's alright, just click the play button. :)
Speaking of my previous post about Money, I want to make something perfectly clear. Money's great, but I don't want to end up like these guys
-----
Well, that's it for now. Hope you guys are having a great day! :)
Here's another interesting experience in the world of international shockwave animations. A little music video (sung in Chinese) but I'm sure you'll understand the song enough just watching it. ;) If you can't read the opening screen, it's alright, just click the play button. :)
Speaking of my previous post about Money, I want to make something perfectly clear. Money's great, but I don't want to end up like these guys
-----
Well, that's it for now. Hope you guys are having a great day! :)
Money
Money can't buy you love.
But it can buy you the freedom to look for it.
Money can't buy you happiness.
But it can buy you the freedom to seek it out.
I need money.
I need freedom.
But it can buy you the freedom to look for it.
Money can't buy you happiness.
But it can buy you the freedom to seek it out.
I need money.
I need freedom.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Chronicles of the Penitent [fiction, part 5]
"Us?!" Gregorio held his dagger up, swearing in his native tongue as he began looking frantically around them, "Did it just say 'us'?!" The mists roiled around them, as if stalking their every move, eagerly waiting for the kill.
Throne did not reply, instead brandishing his axe as he began circling around the hideous creature, taking cautious steps, readying himself from any sort of attack.
The creature followed Thorne closely with its head, twisting at an unnatural angle, one limb poised in mid-air, pivoting on all fours like a spider.
"Die!" Gregorio hurled his dagger, the blade making a curious whistling sound as it sped towards the creature, burying itself on the thing's shoulder with a dull THUNK! The creature flinched, hissing and crying out as it jumped towards the injured gypsy.
Thorne chose this moment to strike. Grabbing the handle of his axe with both hands, he rushed forward, intercepting the beast and spinning around quickly, placing all his weight, and uncoiling from the waist with ferocious strength, burying the head of his axe into the beast's ribs with the sound of snapping bones.
The thing's claws swiped mere inches from Gregorio's face when Thorne's axe wedged itself into it's ribcage. Thorne followed through with his blow, swinging his axe and dislodging it from the creature's ribs, leaving a gruesome chest wound that spewed vile black ichor even as it thrashed about, drowning in its own blood as it filled its lungs. The mists responded with a low moan, seeping towards the thing's corpse, concealing it with gray-green vapor.
Thorne turned to look at Gregorio, who fell down to the ground, clutching his wounded leg. Already the flesh near the wounds had begun to turn into a vile shade of purple.
"Hold on." Thorne said, picking up the smaller man and hauling him over his shoulder, "I'll take you to a healer." Taking one last look over to where the beast's corpse lay shrouded in mist, Thorne began making his way through the forest back to the town of Allensburg.
As they left, six other figures crept out of the mists, jerky limbs and misshapen heads creeping down from the treetops. The largest, with a body of a hairy spider and the face of a beautiful woman, watched as Thorne left, her eyes gleaming with a hungry glow.
----
"Hail, Jonas Ervin." Joanna intoned, completing the summoning ceremony, and regarding the ghost of the slain cobbler.
Jonas was a slight man, whose form betrayed a lack of any kind of martial training. His hair was blonde at some point, though the spectral pallor that shrouded his image left many details bare. He appeared as he had died, his ribcage torn open, and shreds of his intestines hanging out, dripping ghostly blood.
Kwairen kept alert. He had been with Joanna long enough to know how some of her magic worked. The Keepers of the Dead are loathe to allow the slain to return to the lands of the living, and many of the denizens from beyond follow such summoning trails in the hopes of attaining an extended stay in the mortal realm by slaying the summoner.
He was Joanna's shield.
"Speak to me of the beast that slew you." Joanna stated her voice clear as a church bell, "Tell me of the Lycanthrope."
Jonas' dead eyes fixed upon her, and another wave of cold wind assaulted them, "They were not Lycanthropes." he spoke, his voice distant and hollow, "Ghastly misshappen creatures, composed of parts both animal and man, yes, but not shapeshifters."
Joanna narrowed her eyes, misshappen creatures? This was not something they had encountered before. The Confessor must be informed. "How were you slain?" she forced herself to speak, suddenly realizing that she had very little time to maintain the spell.
"They came to my home." Jonas replied, "crawling through the fireplace, the windows and the doors. Claws and teeth. Claws and teeth held me down for their mother. Their mother, beautiful and horrid feasted upon my innards..."
"Beautiful and horrid?" Joanna raised an eyebrow, "what do you-"
Her question was cut short when she heard it. A low piercing wail coming from the depths of the graveyard soil, the very ground quaking in fear.
Kwairen looked sharply at Joanna, making a cutting motion with his hand. End it! Now!
Joanna began chanting then, unweaving her spell, her voice rising with urgency as she felt them, the Keepers of the Dead, clawing their way to her enchantment, using it as a lifeline to locate the spirit of Jonas and draw him back to whatever fate awaited him in oblivion.
The ground shook harder as the wail turned into a scream. Kwairen dropped into a defensive stance, ready for anything that could possibly appear.
Joanna unweaved her spell, her heart beating furiously in her ribcage as she felt the Keepers sniffing out her spell, tracking her down. Words of power and binding tumbled out of her mouth as she weaved symbols with her hands, sweat beading her brow. A tearing pain in her mind told her that the Keepers were near, the agony threatening to break her concentration.
Joanna fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face, her hair falling over her features as she gasped out the final syllables of the spell, and Jonas' ghost faded into nothingness. The lights in her eyes told her that she was just on the verge of passing out, and she felt Kwairen's strong hands helping her up.
"Kwairen," she gasped, "We must warn the others."
-----
"It was Annabelle." the priest spoke, his voice quaking with fear, the effects of the spell still lingering in his mind.
"Annabelle?" the Confessor released the priests collar, watching the wretched holy man sprawled on the pew.
"She... was a local midwife." the priest said, his voice steadier now, as he tried to sit up, "We caught her enacting a pagan ritual."
The Confessor did not reply, waiting.
"You do not understand me." The priest said, his eyes pleading, "She was praying to those before the gods! To her woodlands deities and spirits! Abominations! Jonas was the one who saw her, following her out into the woods one night."
"And what crime did she commit?" the Confessor asked.
"Crime?" the priest asked, dumbfounded, "She was a heretic! Her worship is not that of our people and her ways are not in our understanding!"
The Confessor was impassive, "To be different is not a crime. Did she use her magics to harm anyone?"
The priest was silent.
"I thought so." the Confessor gave him a disgusted look, "And you cursed her? You used your own holy abilities to punish her simply for being different?"
The priest's eyes were haunted by shame.
"That is all I need to know." The Confessor turned to leave, his boots clicking on the empty Church's floor tiles. "Now I must put an innocent woman to death, for your curse has turned her into a monster."
The priest merely followed the Confessor's figure with his eyes.
"Know this." the Confessor said, "Her crimes are marked on your soul." With that, the Confessor stepped out into the night, his hand tight around his black iron staff, tricorn hat pulled down, and heart weary at the thought of the task ahead.
-----
Hey guys! Just finished part 5. I'm dedicating this one to my kitty, whose birthday is today! :) Happy Birthday! :)
Anyway, as always, I'm open to suggestions and comments. This is the first attempt to do action for this series, and I'm eager (and nervous) to see what you guys think about it! :D
Hope you guys are having a great evening!
Throne did not reply, instead brandishing his axe as he began circling around the hideous creature, taking cautious steps, readying himself from any sort of attack.
The creature followed Thorne closely with its head, twisting at an unnatural angle, one limb poised in mid-air, pivoting on all fours like a spider.
"Die!" Gregorio hurled his dagger, the blade making a curious whistling sound as it sped towards the creature, burying itself on the thing's shoulder with a dull THUNK! The creature flinched, hissing and crying out as it jumped towards the injured gypsy.
Thorne chose this moment to strike. Grabbing the handle of his axe with both hands, he rushed forward, intercepting the beast and spinning around quickly, placing all his weight, and uncoiling from the waist with ferocious strength, burying the head of his axe into the beast's ribs with the sound of snapping bones.
The thing's claws swiped mere inches from Gregorio's face when Thorne's axe wedged itself into it's ribcage. Thorne followed through with his blow, swinging his axe and dislodging it from the creature's ribs, leaving a gruesome chest wound that spewed vile black ichor even as it thrashed about, drowning in its own blood as it filled its lungs. The mists responded with a low moan, seeping towards the thing's corpse, concealing it with gray-green vapor.
Thorne turned to look at Gregorio, who fell down to the ground, clutching his wounded leg. Already the flesh near the wounds had begun to turn into a vile shade of purple.
"Hold on." Thorne said, picking up the smaller man and hauling him over his shoulder, "I'll take you to a healer." Taking one last look over to where the beast's corpse lay shrouded in mist, Thorne began making his way through the forest back to the town of Allensburg.
As they left, six other figures crept out of the mists, jerky limbs and misshapen heads creeping down from the treetops. The largest, with a body of a hairy spider and the face of a beautiful woman, watched as Thorne left, her eyes gleaming with a hungry glow.
----
"Hail, Jonas Ervin." Joanna intoned, completing the summoning ceremony, and regarding the ghost of the slain cobbler.
Jonas was a slight man, whose form betrayed a lack of any kind of martial training. His hair was blonde at some point, though the spectral pallor that shrouded his image left many details bare. He appeared as he had died, his ribcage torn open, and shreds of his intestines hanging out, dripping ghostly blood.
Kwairen kept alert. He had been with Joanna long enough to know how some of her magic worked. The Keepers of the Dead are loathe to allow the slain to return to the lands of the living, and many of the denizens from beyond follow such summoning trails in the hopes of attaining an extended stay in the mortal realm by slaying the summoner.
He was Joanna's shield.
"Speak to me of the beast that slew you." Joanna stated her voice clear as a church bell, "Tell me of the Lycanthrope."
Jonas' dead eyes fixed upon her, and another wave of cold wind assaulted them, "They were not Lycanthropes." he spoke, his voice distant and hollow, "Ghastly misshappen creatures, composed of parts both animal and man, yes, but not shapeshifters."
Joanna narrowed her eyes, misshappen creatures? This was not something they had encountered before. The Confessor must be informed. "How were you slain?" she forced herself to speak, suddenly realizing that she had very little time to maintain the spell.
"They came to my home." Jonas replied, "crawling through the fireplace, the windows and the doors. Claws and teeth. Claws and teeth held me down for their mother. Their mother, beautiful and horrid feasted upon my innards..."
"Beautiful and horrid?" Joanna raised an eyebrow, "what do you-"
Her question was cut short when she heard it. A low piercing wail coming from the depths of the graveyard soil, the very ground quaking in fear.
Kwairen looked sharply at Joanna, making a cutting motion with his hand. End it! Now!
Joanna began chanting then, unweaving her spell, her voice rising with urgency as she felt them, the Keepers of the Dead, clawing their way to her enchantment, using it as a lifeline to locate the spirit of Jonas and draw him back to whatever fate awaited him in oblivion.
The ground shook harder as the wail turned into a scream. Kwairen dropped into a defensive stance, ready for anything that could possibly appear.
Joanna unweaved her spell, her heart beating furiously in her ribcage as she felt the Keepers sniffing out her spell, tracking her down. Words of power and binding tumbled out of her mouth as she weaved symbols with her hands, sweat beading her brow. A tearing pain in her mind told her that the Keepers were near, the agony threatening to break her concentration.
Joanna fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face, her hair falling over her features as she gasped out the final syllables of the spell, and Jonas' ghost faded into nothingness. The lights in her eyes told her that she was just on the verge of passing out, and she felt Kwairen's strong hands helping her up.
"Kwairen," she gasped, "We must warn the others."
-----
"It was Annabelle." the priest spoke, his voice quaking with fear, the effects of the spell still lingering in his mind.
"Annabelle?" the Confessor released the priests collar, watching the wretched holy man sprawled on the pew.
"She... was a local midwife." the priest said, his voice steadier now, as he tried to sit up, "We caught her enacting a pagan ritual."
The Confessor did not reply, waiting.
"You do not understand me." The priest said, his eyes pleading, "She was praying to those before the gods! To her woodlands deities and spirits! Abominations! Jonas was the one who saw her, following her out into the woods one night."
"And what crime did she commit?" the Confessor asked.
"Crime?" the priest asked, dumbfounded, "She was a heretic! Her worship is not that of our people and her ways are not in our understanding!"
The Confessor was impassive, "To be different is not a crime. Did she use her magics to harm anyone?"
The priest was silent.
"I thought so." the Confessor gave him a disgusted look, "And you cursed her? You used your own holy abilities to punish her simply for being different?"
The priest's eyes were haunted by shame.
"That is all I need to know." The Confessor turned to leave, his boots clicking on the empty Church's floor tiles. "Now I must put an innocent woman to death, for your curse has turned her into a monster."
The priest merely followed the Confessor's figure with his eyes.
"Know this." the Confessor said, "Her crimes are marked on your soul." With that, the Confessor stepped out into the night, his hand tight around his black iron staff, tricorn hat pulled down, and heart weary at the thought of the task ahead.
-----
Hey guys! Just finished part 5. I'm dedicating this one to my kitty, whose birthday is today! :) Happy Birthday! :)
Anyway, as always, I'm open to suggestions and comments. This is the first attempt to do action for this series, and I'm eager (and nervous) to see what you guys think about it! :D
Hope you guys are having a great evening!
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Double-talk
Heya,
Stumbled upon This Sinfest Strip on innuendoes and realized how much it sounds like the GB3 group.
:p
Check it out guys, you know who you are. ;)
-----
And for all it's crassness and bluster, here's a heart warming moment from sinfest.
Trust me, it's one of the few things that I've encountered over the past few weeks to really make me smile.
-----
I'll most likely post more stuff tomorrow. (or make that later today) Good night everyone! :)
Stumbled upon This Sinfest Strip on innuendoes and realized how much it sounds like the GB3 group.
:p
Check it out guys, you know who you are. ;)
-----
And for all it's crassness and bluster, here's a heart warming moment from sinfest.
Trust me, it's one of the few things that I've encountered over the past few weeks to really make me smile.
-----
I'll most likely post more stuff tomorrow. (or make that later today) Good night everyone! :)
Friday, February 06, 2004
Man-eating ATMs!
Hey guys,
Taking a break off writing Chronicles of the Penitent for now. :p Gonna enjoy my weekend a bit.
Work was admittedly very strange. I was headed to the office when I saw three people about my age looking very distressed and knocking on the glass security door of a nearby Automated Teller Machine. It took a few seconds for me to realize that they'd been locked inside, and no amount of budging on my part could open the door.
Fortunately a quick slip of a laminated ID card by the latch got them out, I was able to head off to work no later, and oddly amused by the amount of relief on the faces of the three trapped people.
-----
On another note, please visit India's blog over on the sidebar, it's the one with the title, "For orange skies". India was nice enough to link to me, so I'm giving her a little plug of my own as a show of thanks and appreciation. :)
-----
Well, aside from that, things are pretty quiet. I'm giving myself some time to relax and ease off my brain. I don't want to burn myself out. :) Anway, hope you guys are having a great day!
Taking a break off writing Chronicles of the Penitent for now. :p Gonna enjoy my weekend a bit.
Work was admittedly very strange. I was headed to the office when I saw three people about my age looking very distressed and knocking on the glass security door of a nearby Automated Teller Machine. It took a few seconds for me to realize that they'd been locked inside, and no amount of budging on my part could open the door.
Fortunately a quick slip of a laminated ID card by the latch got them out, I was able to head off to work no later, and oddly amused by the amount of relief on the faces of the three trapped people.
-----
On another note, please visit India's blog over on the sidebar, it's the one with the title, "For orange skies". India was nice enough to link to me, so I'm giving her a little plug of my own as a show of thanks and appreciation. :)
-----
Well, aside from that, things are pretty quiet. I'm giving myself some time to relax and ease off my brain. I don't want to burn myself out. :) Anway, hope you guys are having a great day!
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Mounting pressures on the CoP
A talk with Vin about the Chronicles of the Penitent stories had him mention a contest where the winners got money and their works published. After reading one 1st prize story, I have to admit that I am definitely intimidated.
*takes a deep breath to focus*
Have to keep myself going and write this whole thing down. I'll worry about edit later, and then maybe it'll be good enough to consider as even worth submitting.
-----
For now here's a little something I've discovered...
OBEY!
-----
Now that I've attacked my wookie, I'll focus on getting some writing done for part 5. :)
*takes a deep breath to focus*
Have to keep myself going and write this whole thing down. I'll worry about edit later, and then maybe it'll be good enough to consider as even worth submitting.
-----
For now here's a little something I've discovered...
OBEY!
-----
Now that I've attacked my wookie, I'll focus on getting some writing done for part 5. :)
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Chronicles of the Penitent [fiction, part 4]
Mercy..." Thorne whispered quietly as they approached the rotting corpse, suddenly aware of the incredibly nauseating smell as they drew near.
She's only a child... Thorne realized. Her body was twisted unnaturally, her shoulders almost completely twisted around in an unnatural angle. Her stomach as torn open and her entrails feasted upon by some unknown animal. She would have been fair-skinned, but death had stolen away her beauty, leaving only the bloated, blue-green hue of a corpse.
"Dead for some time now." Gregorio spoke somberly, "Mauled by the beast, it seems. The manner of death matches the constable's description."
"No child should be doomed to die so horribly." Thorne spoke, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He began looking around, his eyes darting among the trees around them. The cold, insidious fog had crept up around them, rising ever so slowly, concealing the very ground they walked on.
Thorne felt his body tense as he felt the cold grip of fear strike his heart. They were vulnerable, he realized, even as the mist rose to shroud the forest in a ghostly haze making it difficult to see anything past a few meters. Gregorio seemed to feel the same way, flipping his dagger into his palm and holding it ready.
"It would seem that even nature conspires against us, friend." Gregorio spoke, breaking the oppressive silence around them.
"Get ready." Thorne warned him, even as he drew out his axe, "Something's watching."
The two stood still, with nothing but their breathing disturbing the eerie silence that surrounded them. Gregorio said a quick prayer even as he held his dagger up, weaving the tip back and forth, keeping his stance light.
Suddenly, a frenzied burst of fur and claws and teeth came from nowhere, the mist swirling with it's passing. Gregorio let out a cry of pain as he dropped to the ground, his thigh bleeding from a large claw gash.
"Gregorio!" Thorne whirled around to face the beast. It was easily the size of a horse, and vaguely wolf-like in appearance. It stood on all fours, but it's limbs ended in what looked like hands with wicked black talons rather than paws. Coarse black fur covered it's back and it's limbs, and it's face resembled a man far more than it did a wolf. Cruel rows of razor sharp teeth lined its gaping maw, it's eyes wide in sadistic anticipation of another kill, even as it circled around them with strange loping strides.
"Many, many more things to eat." it spoke, it's voice soft and pure like a child,
even as it's eyes betrayed it's malice, "Come to play with us tonight?"
-----
Joanna frowned a bit as she raised her skirt slightly, making her way through the muddy graveyard soil. Gathering herbs to make poultices and love potions were one thing, she thought, but tromping around muddy graveyards are a different thing altogether.
"The things a witch must do." She complained to her silent companion even as her footing almost failed her on a patch of mud. Kwairen only gave her a smile as he followed, his surefooted steps finding the driest path in whatever mud they crossed.
Around them, the graveyard was a somber sight. Lopsided tombstones and markers dotted the landscape, and weeds choked the life out of whatever little vegetation that grew in the place.
The two companions found their destination soon enough. It was a somber looking grave, with freshly dug earth covering the grass, and a simple tombstone marked with the name of Jonas Ervin in solid block letters.
Kwairen looked at Joanna, and stood quietly off to one side of the grave.
"Well now, Jonas." Joanna smiled, as she knelt down to take a handful of grave dirt in her hand, "time for you to wake up."
Taking the dirt in her hand, Joanna closed her eyes and sent forth her will, calling for the soul of Jonas the slain. She began to sing, her voice cold and crystal clear, resonating with the anguish of the fallen, the despair of the unavenged. Kwairen looked at her, watching the weave her magic.
Joanna's song continued as she sprinked the grave dirt over Jonas' resting place, calling him, urging his soul to rise, fanning the flames of revenge and hate, calling for him to aid them in finding his killer.
"Arise fallen one." Joanna intoned, breathless as she shaped the song into her will, feeling Jonas' spirit respond, seeking her out, fueled by the tragedy of his demise.
With a peircing wail, a shadow of a man drifted over the grave, hovering silently in place.
"Who promises me vengeance?" the shadow man's voice was distant, almost inaudible.
"I, Joanna du Winter, the Witch of Crawford." she replied, her lips in a satisfied smile.
-----
"I know this." The Confessor spoke his eyes never leaving the priest's, "Creatures like these do not strike without reason. They are borne of hate and damnation," his eyes narrowed, "Who would have reason to strike against the townsfolk? Who have you condemned with your foolish judgement?"
The priest clutched at his collar, trying to loosen the Confessor's iron grip. "I... I know nothing!" he cried.
"You lie!" the Confessor roared, his voice echoing throughout the abandoned church, "I see guilt in your eyes." he slammed the priest down into a pew, his fist squeezing the collar even tighter.
The priest's eyes were wide as the confessor looked into him, his mind flooded with an incredible burden, as if his very soul were being measured. Everything he has done, his doubts, fears, and secrets spilling forth from the chambers of his consciousness, brought forth, stripping him naked of all his pretenses, parading his weakness and his vulnerability.
The Confessor held the priest down as he watched the priest's eyes open wide in shock, his face growing pale as the Confessor employed his gift of Remorse. Tears came, unbidden, streaking down the priest's face as he stopped struggling, curling up into a fetal position, sobbing quietly.
"No more..." the priest begged, his voice wracked with sobs, "please..."
"Then tell me what I want to know."
-----
Got some action coming up in the next installment. :p I hope you guys like it! I'm surprised I've gotten this far. I expected to write a short story, but the way this is going, it might be far longer than that. :D
She's only a child... Thorne realized. Her body was twisted unnaturally, her shoulders almost completely twisted around in an unnatural angle. Her stomach as torn open and her entrails feasted upon by some unknown animal. She would have been fair-skinned, but death had stolen away her beauty, leaving only the bloated, blue-green hue of a corpse.
"Dead for some time now." Gregorio spoke somberly, "Mauled by the beast, it seems. The manner of death matches the constable's description."
"No child should be doomed to die so horribly." Thorne spoke, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He began looking around, his eyes darting among the trees around them. The cold, insidious fog had crept up around them, rising ever so slowly, concealing the very ground they walked on.
Thorne felt his body tense as he felt the cold grip of fear strike his heart. They were vulnerable, he realized, even as the mist rose to shroud the forest in a ghostly haze making it difficult to see anything past a few meters. Gregorio seemed to feel the same way, flipping his dagger into his palm and holding it ready.
"It would seem that even nature conspires against us, friend." Gregorio spoke, breaking the oppressive silence around them.
"Get ready." Thorne warned him, even as he drew out his axe, "Something's watching."
The two stood still, with nothing but their breathing disturbing the eerie silence that surrounded them. Gregorio said a quick prayer even as he held his dagger up, weaving the tip back and forth, keeping his stance light.
Suddenly, a frenzied burst of fur and claws and teeth came from nowhere, the mist swirling with it's passing. Gregorio let out a cry of pain as he dropped to the ground, his thigh bleeding from a large claw gash.
"Gregorio!" Thorne whirled around to face the beast. It was easily the size of a horse, and vaguely wolf-like in appearance. It stood on all fours, but it's limbs ended in what looked like hands with wicked black talons rather than paws. Coarse black fur covered it's back and it's limbs, and it's face resembled a man far more than it did a wolf. Cruel rows of razor sharp teeth lined its gaping maw, it's eyes wide in sadistic anticipation of another kill, even as it circled around them with strange loping strides.
"Many, many more things to eat." it spoke, it's voice soft and pure like a child,
even as it's eyes betrayed it's malice, "Come to play with us tonight?"
-----
Joanna frowned a bit as she raised her skirt slightly, making her way through the muddy graveyard soil. Gathering herbs to make poultices and love potions were one thing, she thought, but tromping around muddy graveyards are a different thing altogether.
"The things a witch must do." She complained to her silent companion even as her footing almost failed her on a patch of mud. Kwairen only gave her a smile as he followed, his surefooted steps finding the driest path in whatever mud they crossed.
Around them, the graveyard was a somber sight. Lopsided tombstones and markers dotted the landscape, and weeds choked the life out of whatever little vegetation that grew in the place.
The two companions found their destination soon enough. It was a somber looking grave, with freshly dug earth covering the grass, and a simple tombstone marked with the name of Jonas Ervin in solid block letters.
Kwairen looked at Joanna, and stood quietly off to one side of the grave.
"Well now, Jonas." Joanna smiled, as she knelt down to take a handful of grave dirt in her hand, "time for you to wake up."
Taking the dirt in her hand, Joanna closed her eyes and sent forth her will, calling for the soul of Jonas the slain. She began to sing, her voice cold and crystal clear, resonating with the anguish of the fallen, the despair of the unavenged. Kwairen looked at her, watching the weave her magic.
Joanna's song continued as she sprinked the grave dirt over Jonas' resting place, calling him, urging his soul to rise, fanning the flames of revenge and hate, calling for him to aid them in finding his killer.
"Arise fallen one." Joanna intoned, breathless as she shaped the song into her will, feeling Jonas' spirit respond, seeking her out, fueled by the tragedy of his demise.
With a peircing wail, a shadow of a man drifted over the grave, hovering silently in place.
"Who promises me vengeance?" the shadow man's voice was distant, almost inaudible.
"I, Joanna du Winter, the Witch of Crawford." she replied, her lips in a satisfied smile.
-----
"I know this." The Confessor spoke his eyes never leaving the priest's, "Creatures like these do not strike without reason. They are borne of hate and damnation," his eyes narrowed, "Who would have reason to strike against the townsfolk? Who have you condemned with your foolish judgement?"
The priest clutched at his collar, trying to loosen the Confessor's iron grip. "I... I know nothing!" he cried.
"You lie!" the Confessor roared, his voice echoing throughout the abandoned church, "I see guilt in your eyes." he slammed the priest down into a pew, his fist squeezing the collar even tighter.
The priest's eyes were wide as the confessor looked into him, his mind flooded with an incredible burden, as if his very soul were being measured. Everything he has done, his doubts, fears, and secrets spilling forth from the chambers of his consciousness, brought forth, stripping him naked of all his pretenses, parading his weakness and his vulnerability.
The Confessor held the priest down as he watched the priest's eyes open wide in shock, his face growing pale as the Confessor employed his gift of Remorse. Tears came, unbidden, streaking down the priest's face as he stopped struggling, curling up into a fetal position, sobbing quietly.
"No more..." the priest begged, his voice wracked with sobs, "please..."
"Then tell me what I want to know."
-----
Got some action coming up in the next installment. :p I hope you guys like it! I'm surprised I've gotten this far. I expected to write a short story, but the way this is going, it might be far longer than that. :D
Monday, February 02, 2004
Now for a brief word from our sponsors...
Come to Kenya!
I'm sorry, but this was too darn funny to pass up
Now back to the Chronicles of the Penitent... ;)
I'm sorry, but this was too darn funny to pass up
Now back to the Chronicles of the Penitent... ;)
Chronicles of the Penitent [fiction, part 3]
The clouds over Allensburg hung over the moon like a funeral shroud, rendering the brilliant moonlight into an ash-grey haze that concealed as much as illuminated. Shadows pooled like tangible, living things, staking their claim over the town, retreating only from the piercing glare of the lamp that the Confessor carried.
They stood in the center of the town square, all of them clad in thick coats in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.
"We have ten days," The Confessor spoke, his breath misting in the air, "We know too little about this Lycanthrope as of yet, so we must gather whatever information we can."
He turned to Gregorio and Thorne, "The two of you will scout out the surrounding wilderness." He allowed himself a small smile, "Both of you have excellent tracking skills... and whatever Gregorio's daggers cannot bring down, your axe will." He nodded to the larger of the two.
Thorne nodded grimly, his hand subconsciously wrapping itself around the hilt of the broad axe strapped to his back.
Kwairen looked at the Confessor, gracefully gesturing to himself and Joanna.
"You two will serve as my eyes and ears to the people." the Confessor answered, "I fear that Hans will not be of any help to us regarding this beast. Perhaps the family of Jonas the cobbler would be able to give us more information."
"It shall be done." Joanna replied quietly, as Kwairen bowed.
The Confessor turned his gaze towards an old church building on the far side of the town. Birds, ravens perhaps, were perched on the bell tower, watching him back. "We meet back here tomorrow at noon." He said, as he pulled his tricorn hat lower over his eyes and walked towards the church.
----
"What do you suppose this Lycanthrope could be, Gregorio?" Thorne asked, his large frame moving with surprising grace as he followed the small gypsy man through the forest trail.
"A Werewolf, perhaps?" Gregorio replied, his voice thick with his accent, his hand playing with a narrow, pointed dagger.
"Maybe." Thorne replied, as he looked around. Already the green-gray mists began to rise again, the icy tendrils of fog wrapping about their legs. Thorne grit his teeth, as the cold brought back memories of his crime.
A bloody axe, and a terrible feeling of being so cold. Fingers stiff, wrapped tightly around the axe hilt with the grip of a drowning man. Legs cold, rapidly cooling blood pooling at his feet. Icy silence ringing in his ears, save for the distant crackling of a fireplace.
"Thorne!" The larger man snapped out of his dreadful reverie when Gregorio stopped, pointing something out near a clearing with his dagger. Thorne walked up to the smaller man, squinting his eyes to see...
There was something within the mists, an odd shape breaking the smooth outline of the meadow. A mass of torn edges and odd angles, of caked mud and matted hair.
----
Joanna moved with sure grace, Kwairen following quietly beside her. "I do not wish to waste our time speaking with these townsfolk." Joanna stated, "They are too paralyzed with fear to give us anything of value."
Kwairen gave her an inquisitive look.
"It's really simple, Kwairen." Joanna flashed him a smile, "We seek out first-hand information."
Kwairen finally nodded in understanding, looking towards the direction of the Allensburg cemetery.
----
The doors of the church swung easily enough, the Confessor thought, as he pushed open one of the large double-doors to the church. The interior of the church cried out of faded glories, lifeless tapestries and grey paintings hung on either side. Shadows filled the church where the faithful should have been, and a lone, incomplete candelabra lent it's lonely light to the altar.
A single figure stood by the altar, dressed in simple robes. His square-jawed face was one of dislike the moment the Confessor entered. Almost protectively the priest circled around the altar and walked briskly up the center asile to meet the Confessor.
"You." The priest said, with barely disguised disapproval.
"Greetings." the Confessor replied, with a sardonic smile and an exaggerated look over the church interiors, "Has the donation tray been getting a little lighter as of late?"
The priest leveled a glare at his unwelcome guest, "I have heard of you, Confessor. I do not know what madness it was that drove Hans to send for your aid, but we do not need you here."
"Really now?" the Confessor said propping up his staff beside him, "It doesn't seem that way considering four of your flock have met their untimely demise over the past few months."
The priest narrowed his eyes, "They are my flock, Confessor, and it is my god that will watch over them."
The Confessor looked over the altar to see the image of the priest's god, a proud and haughty fellow, holding a sword and looking very much like a protector and conqueror at the same time.
"As it will be." the Confessor said, moving with a speed that caught the priest by surprise, the Confessor's fist wrapped around the priest's collar, "Your god will watch. It's what he has always done. I however, will act."
The priest opened his mouth to say something when the Confessor rapped the side of his face with the cross-shaped tip of his staff and tightened his grip on the priest's collar. "I have not come here to discuss the finer points of theology with you." the Confessor hissed, "I come here seeking information on this Lycanthrope. What your god thinks of me is none of my concern."
"Then why do you seek me out?" the priest gasped, trying to breathe.
"Because," the Confessor leaned closer, "No one knows the flock better than it's sheperd."
-----
OOoookay... this project is getting longer everytime I type a new installment. :p I this one isn't as quickly paced as the previous one, but I hope you guys still like it!
They stood in the center of the town square, all of them clad in thick coats in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.
"We have ten days," The Confessor spoke, his breath misting in the air, "We know too little about this Lycanthrope as of yet, so we must gather whatever information we can."
He turned to Gregorio and Thorne, "The two of you will scout out the surrounding wilderness." He allowed himself a small smile, "Both of you have excellent tracking skills... and whatever Gregorio's daggers cannot bring down, your axe will." He nodded to the larger of the two.
Thorne nodded grimly, his hand subconsciously wrapping itself around the hilt of the broad axe strapped to his back.
Kwairen looked at the Confessor, gracefully gesturing to himself and Joanna.
"You two will serve as my eyes and ears to the people." the Confessor answered, "I fear that Hans will not be of any help to us regarding this beast. Perhaps the family of Jonas the cobbler would be able to give us more information."
"It shall be done." Joanna replied quietly, as Kwairen bowed.
The Confessor turned his gaze towards an old church building on the far side of the town. Birds, ravens perhaps, were perched on the bell tower, watching him back. "We meet back here tomorrow at noon." He said, as he pulled his tricorn hat lower over his eyes and walked towards the church.
----
"What do you suppose this Lycanthrope could be, Gregorio?" Thorne asked, his large frame moving with surprising grace as he followed the small gypsy man through the forest trail.
"A Werewolf, perhaps?" Gregorio replied, his voice thick with his accent, his hand playing with a narrow, pointed dagger.
"Maybe." Thorne replied, as he looked around. Already the green-gray mists began to rise again, the icy tendrils of fog wrapping about their legs. Thorne grit his teeth, as the cold brought back memories of his crime.
A bloody axe, and a terrible feeling of being so cold. Fingers stiff, wrapped tightly around the axe hilt with the grip of a drowning man. Legs cold, rapidly cooling blood pooling at his feet. Icy silence ringing in his ears, save for the distant crackling of a fireplace.
"Thorne!" The larger man snapped out of his dreadful reverie when Gregorio stopped, pointing something out near a clearing with his dagger. Thorne walked up to the smaller man, squinting his eyes to see...
There was something within the mists, an odd shape breaking the smooth outline of the meadow. A mass of torn edges and odd angles, of caked mud and matted hair.
----
Joanna moved with sure grace, Kwairen following quietly beside her. "I do not wish to waste our time speaking with these townsfolk." Joanna stated, "They are too paralyzed with fear to give us anything of value."
Kwairen gave her an inquisitive look.
"It's really simple, Kwairen." Joanna flashed him a smile, "We seek out first-hand information."
Kwairen finally nodded in understanding, looking towards the direction of the Allensburg cemetery.
----
The doors of the church swung easily enough, the Confessor thought, as he pushed open one of the large double-doors to the church. The interior of the church cried out of faded glories, lifeless tapestries and grey paintings hung on either side. Shadows filled the church where the faithful should have been, and a lone, incomplete candelabra lent it's lonely light to the altar.
A single figure stood by the altar, dressed in simple robes. His square-jawed face was one of dislike the moment the Confessor entered. Almost protectively the priest circled around the altar and walked briskly up the center asile to meet the Confessor.
"You." The priest said, with barely disguised disapproval.
"Greetings." the Confessor replied, with a sardonic smile and an exaggerated look over the church interiors, "Has the donation tray been getting a little lighter as of late?"
The priest leveled a glare at his unwelcome guest, "I have heard of you, Confessor. I do not know what madness it was that drove Hans to send for your aid, but we do not need you here."
"Really now?" the Confessor said propping up his staff beside him, "It doesn't seem that way considering four of your flock have met their untimely demise over the past few months."
The priest narrowed his eyes, "They are my flock, Confessor, and it is my god that will watch over them."
The Confessor looked over the altar to see the image of the priest's god, a proud and haughty fellow, holding a sword and looking very much like a protector and conqueror at the same time.
"As it will be." the Confessor said, moving with a speed that caught the priest by surprise, the Confessor's fist wrapped around the priest's collar, "Your god will watch. It's what he has always done. I however, will act."
The priest opened his mouth to say something when the Confessor rapped the side of his face with the cross-shaped tip of his staff and tightened his grip on the priest's collar. "I have not come here to discuss the finer points of theology with you." the Confessor hissed, "I come here seeking information on this Lycanthrope. What your god thinks of me is none of my concern."
"Then why do you seek me out?" the priest gasped, trying to breathe.
"Because," the Confessor leaned closer, "No one knows the flock better than it's sheperd."
-----
OOoookay... this project is getting longer everytime I type a new installment. :p I this one isn't as quickly paced as the previous one, but I hope you guys still like it!
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