Incidentally, a lot of my more recent blogging efforts have been on side blogs, since they're character/story blogs.
http://bar2015ts3ac.blogspot.com/ is one such, for the 2015 spring Apocalypse Challenge tournament. :)
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Saturday, December 27, 2014
A Brief Moment For Our Sponsors
So I haven't really talked about me in a long time.
Let's talk.
I'm a phone monkey. Which is to say I work in a call center.
I hate being a phone monkey.
Please, help me raise enough money to stop being a phone monkey.
Take a look at this link.
Thank you.
Let's talk.
I'm a phone monkey. Which is to say I work in a call center.
I hate being a phone monkey.
Please, help me raise enough money to stop being a phone monkey.
Take a look at this link.
Thank you.
Monday, December 22, 2014
Premonition
It was a miserably hot day, just like every other day on the Hellfire Peninsula. She had never liked the place, but today it had her entirely on edge. Something bad was coming, she just didn't know what.
Despite her concern, their patrol was more or less uneventful ... until her brother directed her to land. Every last instinct she had said to get out, get away. Obediently, she set down on the ground, and he slid off her back. She couldn't keep still; she was looking in all directions, fidgety. There were fewer demons now, but Outland was still full of threats.
Her brother's cry of pain drew her attention back to him. She keened her denial as he fell to his knees, clutching an arrow that had sprouted from his throat.
The orcs closed in around her, their riding wolves snapping at her legs. She thrust herself into the air, breathing death on them until an arrow pierced her side.
She screamed defiance, demanding nothing less than vengeance. Her brother had spent his entire life in service to the Light - he deserved that much.
It was to her great surprise when pillars of white-hot flame answered her cry, flowering into existence where the orcs had been. The storm left nothing but ash in its wake, though her brother was untouched.
Ignoring her own pain, she collected his body in her talons and began to carry him to Shattrath.
She had to believe this could be fixed.
Despite her concern, their patrol was more or less uneventful ... until her brother directed her to land. Every last instinct she had said to get out, get away. Obediently, she set down on the ground, and he slid off her back. She couldn't keep still; she was looking in all directions, fidgety. There were fewer demons now, but Outland was still full of threats.
Her brother's cry of pain drew her attention back to him. She keened her denial as he fell to his knees, clutching an arrow that had sprouted from his throat.
The orcs closed in around her, their riding wolves snapping at her legs. She thrust herself into the air, breathing death on them until an arrow pierced her side.
She screamed defiance, demanding nothing less than vengeance. Her brother had spent his entire life in service to the Light - he deserved that much.
It was to her great surprise when pillars of white-hot flame answered her cry, flowering into existence where the orcs had been. The storm left nothing but ash in its wake, though her brother was untouched.
Ignoring her own pain, she collected his body in her talons and began to carry him to Shattrath.
She had to believe this could be fixed.
50 Word Thoughts - IX
Oblivion
She stared into that abyss in a kind of awed horror. She did not, could not understand it, that yawning void. It was lightless infinity condensed into an almost humanoid form. It had no eyes, but she could feel it looking at her, through her. Worse, she felt its hunger.
Solar
The bird people were fascinating, yet vicious. She watched as the burning light descended on the small village, obliterating it. To harness the full destructive power of the sun ... of course it would be unfortunate for the victims. But imagine such weapons turned against the Iron Horde: victory, assured.
Accord
The Lifebinder was beauty incarnate. She wore a mortal shell, but the queen of all dragons remained regal. The other dragons present were all powerful and unique in their fashions, and Chirp felt insignificant beside them. A small, gnomish hand tugged on her own. "You could catch flies like that."
Ingredient
She wasn't sure if it was the frostweed, the fish oil, or the simple combination. She tested the mix thoroughly, adjusting the recipe. The transformation would be complete, and permanent. It would change everything about her - physically anyway. She couldn't afford to be recognized by her old friends.
She stared into that abyss in a kind of awed horror. She did not, could not understand it, that yawning void. It was lightless infinity condensed into an almost humanoid form. It had no eyes, but she could feel it looking at her, through her. Worse, she felt its hunger.
Solar
The bird people were fascinating, yet vicious. She watched as the burning light descended on the small village, obliterating it. To harness the full destructive power of the sun ... of course it would be unfortunate for the victims. But imagine such weapons turned against the Iron Horde: victory, assured.
Accord
The Lifebinder was beauty incarnate. She wore a mortal shell, but the queen of all dragons remained regal. The other dragons present were all powerful and unique in their fashions, and Chirp felt insignificant beside them. A small, gnomish hand tugged on her own. "You could catch flies like that."
Ingredient
She wasn't sure if it was the frostweed, the fish oil, or the simple combination. She tested the mix thoroughly, adjusting the recipe. The transformation would be complete, and permanent. It would change everything about her - physically anyway. She couldn't afford to be recognized by her old friends.
Monday, November 24, 2014
50 Word Thoughts - VIII
Panic
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
What.
"Yes?"
She smiled. "I'm glad."
"I'm sorry?" What?
She backed Archer against the wall, invading his personal space. She leaned in, putting her hands on his shoulders. Confusion mixed with an unfamiliar emotion. He shoved the woman away, violently, and ran.
Tonedeaf
She hummed while she painted, content. Applying pigment to canvas was a soothing activity, one she was growing to enjoy. It was not music in a human sense, the grinding and shifting of stone, the song of her homeland. The discordant noise would be unsettling, but she was alone.
Symmetry
The beauty of circuitry was often overlooked. She loved making the insides of her machines as beautiful as they were functional, even though no one else would ever see them. Sometimes - most of the time - it was a challenge to manipulate the machinery. For example, symmetry often required some redundancy.
Security
There was a fighting force at hand; someone was always on duty. But there were no gryphonriders, no alarm spells. There were improvements to be made to the fort's safety everywhere she turned. She would suggest them, but even with her disguise, she was still only just a green recruit.
Invasion
It was a hobby of hers, getting into places she was not supposed to be. She started with various buildings around the garrison, before getting adventurous. The orc threat posed a particularly juicy target. Getting in was a breeze - she climbed the crude, wooden wall. Delicious secrets lay just inside.
Factoid
She enjoyed learning for its own sake, though some information was irrelevant or commonly known. Her beloved was knowledgeable and maintained a large private library, where she could look up anything she was curious about. One day, she read about murloc life cycles. The next, she might research star patterns.
Aplomb
She tried to be everything a leader should - confident and competent. No job was so menial that she would not do it herself, though she obviously could not do everything! That was what the magical word "delegation" was about. Still, she patrolled the grounds and cleaned latrines with a smile.
Conundrum
She wanted to be a good person, she'd decided that. The problem was, how could you define such a thing? Was it a matter of being good at being a person? Or was there some deeper meaning? Neither ethics nor philosophy were especially clear - and neither gave detailed instructions!
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
What.
"Yes?"
She smiled. "I'm glad."
"I'm sorry?" What?
She backed Archer against the wall, invading his personal space. She leaned in, putting her hands on his shoulders. Confusion mixed with an unfamiliar emotion. He shoved the woman away, violently, and ran.
Tonedeaf
She hummed while she painted, content. Applying pigment to canvas was a soothing activity, one she was growing to enjoy. It was not music in a human sense, the grinding and shifting of stone, the song of her homeland. The discordant noise would be unsettling, but she was alone.
Symmetry
The beauty of circuitry was often overlooked. She loved making the insides of her machines as beautiful as they were functional, even though no one else would ever see them. Sometimes - most of the time - it was a challenge to manipulate the machinery. For example, symmetry often required some redundancy.
Security
There was a fighting force at hand; someone was always on duty. But there were no gryphonriders, no alarm spells. There were improvements to be made to the fort's safety everywhere she turned. She would suggest them, but even with her disguise, she was still only just a green recruit.
Invasion
It was a hobby of hers, getting into places she was not supposed to be. She started with various buildings around the garrison, before getting adventurous. The orc threat posed a particularly juicy target. Getting in was a breeze - she climbed the crude, wooden wall. Delicious secrets lay just inside.
Factoid
She enjoyed learning for its own sake, though some information was irrelevant or commonly known. Her beloved was knowledgeable and maintained a large private library, where she could look up anything she was curious about. One day, she read about murloc life cycles. The next, she might research star patterns.
Aplomb
She tried to be everything a leader should - confident and competent. No job was so menial that she would not do it herself, though she obviously could not do everything! That was what the magical word "delegation" was about. Still, she patrolled the grounds and cleaned latrines with a smile.
Conundrum
She wanted to be a good person, she'd decided that. The problem was, how could you define such a thing? Was it a matter of being good at being a person? Or was there some deeper meaning? Neither ethics nor philosophy were especially clear - and neither gave detailed instructions!
Sunday, November 23, 2014
The Aftermath
She woke, groggy, feeling like every part of her body had been beaten with hammers. She didn't want to move, but she had to. Fighting a crippling weakness, she managed to pull herself up to hands and knees. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner of the previous day came up all at once, her stomach protesting what she'd done to herself.
When she was done throwing up, she wiped her mouth and looked around. Ugh. She was still on the cliff overlooking the orcish encampment. It looked very much like a tornado had torn up the area, tents and orcs strewn about like an angry child's toys.
At the center of the camp, a shadow stood, the inky black of the void reaching out and spearing nearby orcish corpses. She watched as a ghost was ripped free of its body. It struggled, trying to escape the thing's reach, but to no avail. The void consumed the spirit like so much candy.
She shuddered. The mission was apparently a success: dead orcs could not normally get up to march, much less to attack a village.
But what had she done?
A better question was, what forces had the orc been tampering with, that his death had loosed this monstrosity.
What would happen when it ran out of orcs?
Vladik! She realized it in a panic - where was her wolf?
She breathed a weak sigh of relief to find him standing nearby, all of his fur up on end. He was growling, his attention fixed on the disaster below.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered.
The wolf nodded, an entirely too human gesture, and trotted off.
When it became obvious that she would not be able to follow at any speed, he circled back to help. She rested almost all of her weight on him, grateful that he chose to be solid for h er.
However, when they got within sighting distance of the garrison, he disappeared like so much smoke.
They both knew that if he was spotted, it would be all too easy to identify her.
Still, she only managed to crawl a few more feet, collapsing in a heap without his support.
When she was done throwing up, she wiped her mouth and looked around. Ugh. She was still on the cliff overlooking the orcish encampment. It looked very much like a tornado had torn up the area, tents and orcs strewn about like an angry child's toys.
At the center of the camp, a shadow stood, the inky black of the void reaching out and spearing nearby orcish corpses. She watched as a ghost was ripped free of its body. It struggled, trying to escape the thing's reach, but to no avail. The void consumed the spirit like so much candy.
She shuddered. The mission was apparently a success: dead orcs could not normally get up to march, much less to attack a village.
But what had she done?
A better question was, what forces had the orc been tampering with, that his death had loosed this monstrosity.
What would happen when it ran out of orcs?
Vladik! She realized it in a panic - where was her wolf?
She breathed a weak sigh of relief to find him standing nearby, all of his fur up on end. He was growling, his attention fixed on the disaster below.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered.
The wolf nodded, an entirely too human gesture, and trotted off.
When it became obvious that she would not be able to follow at any speed, he circled back to help. She rested almost all of her weight on him, grateful that he chose to be solid for h er.
However, when they got within sighting distance of the garrison, he disappeared like so much smoke.
They both knew that if he was spotted, it would be all too easy to identify her.
Still, she only managed to crawl a few more feet, collapsing in a heap without his support.
Friday, November 21, 2014
The Mission
The orcs were planning an attack. Her first real mission as "Archer" was to thwart that attack. Straightforward enough.
It was a small force of Shadowmoon orcs, not really an army. How could she, alone, stop them from marching? Her instincts said "kill them all" - killing came easy, and it solved the problem. But in this case, it wouldn't be practical.
She reasoned out what she could do while scouting the encampment from above. Whatever else could be said about orcs, they were still mortal. They needed food and water to survive. They needed rest, of course, and they needed leadership. These things, she could disrupt.
Breaking the problem down like that, it was almost manageable.
The best part was, she wouldn't have to do most of it in person.
She put together packets of poisonous herbs, smiling as she worked.
Her beloved wolf would be the one to distribute the vile death she had concocted. Vladik had long since died; she couldn't hurt the ghost with her mixtures.
She explained what she needed him to do, still marveling at how smart he was. She watched as he made his way down the cliff and disappeared from view.
She was confident her wolf would take care of his task. If there was a single scrap of edible food in the camp by morning, she would be surprised - and if they had a single wolf left, or a moment of restful sleep in the entire camp, she would be astonished.
As the local wolves began to howl, loudly, she set to work on her own task.
She wasn't much of a mage; she couldn't rain fire or freeze her enemies in place. She couldn't imagine being able to reverse time.
But she had some talents.
She settled in to the shadow of the cliff, focusing on her well of power. As she closed her eyes, she felt herself slipping free of her body.
The thing she designed was vaguely humanoid, thin strands of magic connecting at a central point. It had two hands, and something resembling a head - good enough. It was also more or less invisible, which suited her purposes quite well.
The thing was also quite mindless; she would be controlling it, directing its every movement. It would take all of her focus: hopefully, she wouldn't find herself under attack, as she would be entirely helpless - most likely unaware of what was happening, until after she'd finished her work below. She wasn't stupid, though - if the orcs caught a scrawny young human in their midst, they would certainly kill him without a second thought.
Carefully, she directed the construct to pick up the poisoned knife. Clumsy, but it would do. She edged down the cliff, before realizing that without a real body, there would be no need for gravity. She flung her 'self' forward, the construct flying out over the camp proper.
One of the tents looked - strange, to her magical vision. It billowed with a kind of inky black smoke, and it beckoned her, drawing her closer. Curious, she followed the call. She slipped unnoticed into the dark-lit tent, finding the orc inside fast asleep. So much power, though - she knew for certain this would be a high value target. She slit his throat without a second thought.
The power did not dissipate. If anything, it expanded, for a moment, before contracting into a vaguely humanoid shape. The darkness hungered - it was impossible for her to look at the thing. It was impossible not to. Ultimately, she found herself staring at it in awed fascination.
The darkness hungered, and before she realized what was happening, her construct was engulfed, consumed. She hastily broke her contact with her creation, cutting her losses and snapping suddenly back into her body. The monster she'd unleashed had stolen almost all of her magic - but at least she was still alive. The backlash of her actions caught up to her quite quickly. She'd expected to be weak after her working.
She was unconscious before she could realize the full of her mistake.
It was a small force of Shadowmoon orcs, not really an army. How could she, alone, stop them from marching? Her instincts said "kill them all" - killing came easy, and it solved the problem. But in this case, it wouldn't be practical.
She reasoned out what she could do while scouting the encampment from above. Whatever else could be said about orcs, they were still mortal. They needed food and water to survive. They needed rest, of course, and they needed leadership. These things, she could disrupt.
Breaking the problem down like that, it was almost manageable.
The best part was, she wouldn't have to do most of it in person.
She put together packets of poisonous herbs, smiling as she worked.
Her beloved wolf would be the one to distribute the vile death she had concocted. Vladik had long since died; she couldn't hurt the ghost with her mixtures.
She explained what she needed him to do, still marveling at how smart he was. She watched as he made his way down the cliff and disappeared from view.
She was confident her wolf would take care of his task. If there was a single scrap of edible food in the camp by morning, she would be surprised - and if they had a single wolf left, or a moment of restful sleep in the entire camp, she would be astonished.
As the local wolves began to howl, loudly, she set to work on her own task.
She wasn't much of a mage; she couldn't rain fire or freeze her enemies in place. She couldn't imagine being able to reverse time.
But she had some talents.
She settled in to the shadow of the cliff, focusing on her well of power. As she closed her eyes, she felt herself slipping free of her body.
The thing she designed was vaguely humanoid, thin strands of magic connecting at a central point. It had two hands, and something resembling a head - good enough. It was also more or less invisible, which suited her purposes quite well.
The thing was also quite mindless; she would be controlling it, directing its every movement. It would take all of her focus: hopefully, she wouldn't find herself under attack, as she would be entirely helpless - most likely unaware of what was happening, until after she'd finished her work below. She wasn't stupid, though - if the orcs caught a scrawny young human in their midst, they would certainly kill him without a second thought.
Carefully, she directed the construct to pick up the poisoned knife. Clumsy, but it would do. She edged down the cliff, before realizing that without a real body, there would be no need for gravity. She flung her 'self' forward, the construct flying out over the camp proper.
One of the tents looked - strange, to her magical vision. It billowed with a kind of inky black smoke, and it beckoned her, drawing her closer. Curious, she followed the call. She slipped unnoticed into the dark-lit tent, finding the orc inside fast asleep. So much power, though - she knew for certain this would be a high value target. She slit his throat without a second thought.
The power did not dissipate. If anything, it expanded, for a moment, before contracting into a vaguely humanoid shape. The darkness hungered - it was impossible for her to look at the thing. It was impossible not to. Ultimately, she found herself staring at it in awed fascination.
The darkness hungered, and before she realized what was happening, her construct was engulfed, consumed. She hastily broke her contact with her creation, cutting her losses and snapping suddenly back into her body. The monster she'd unleashed had stolen almost all of her magic - but at least she was still alive. The backlash of her actions caught up to her quite quickly. She'd expected to be weak after her working.
She was unconscious before she could realize the full of her mistake.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
50 Word Thoughts - VII
Swarm
The silly little flower men had sharp teeth. She discovered just how sharp when one of them latched on to her arm. She did not scream - she had endured worse. Instead, she bashed its skull in, green goo flying. She shook the dead thing off, before resuming her vicious slaughter.
Snowbound
Northrend was notoriously cold, with biting winds and harsh snows. She had not fully anticipated staying the night in a tent that was completely buried. She dug a small vent up to let air in and what little smoke her heater gave off out. It was a long, grueling night.
Colorful
She smiled as she worked. To a human, the splash of color on canvas was meaningless. The idea that she could craft her own art was an incredible thought. She did not try to capture the image of something that existed - why would she? Instead, she painted pleasing patterns.
Jaded
She sighed. She wanted to believe in the good of the world, and then this happened. It was two of the woodworkers - she did not know their names. "You know this is not tolerated," she said evenly. Rage gave her punch strength. No one deserved to be hurt like that.
Knight
"Commander!" The man snapped to attention. She had been recognized for her efforts in the previous wars, but honestly, she had no idea how to lead. She had run mostly solo campaigns, because of her "gifts." The idea of running a fortress was terrifying. What if she failed her people?
Translate
With how many years the Alliance and Horde had been fighting, she would have thought that a translator would be superfluous by now. Still, she served as well as she could, for basic confrontations. The others around the garrison got together, cornering her to demand lessons. Of course, she obliged.
Chosen
Once again, she found herself traveling to strange lands a t the beginning of a new war. She was not chosen as part of this mission, but her employer was. She was not one to abandon a job because it got dangerous, and so she demanded a position in their company.
Bird
She swung the 'copter around, firing at the massive skeleton below. There were still a number of free roaming undead after the fall of the Lich King, though not nearly so many as during his reign. She did not mind clean up: it gave her time to think.
The silly little flower men had sharp teeth. She discovered just how sharp when one of them latched on to her arm. She did not scream - she had endured worse. Instead, she bashed its skull in, green goo flying. She shook the dead thing off, before resuming her vicious slaughter.
Snowbound
Northrend was notoriously cold, with biting winds and harsh snows. She had not fully anticipated staying the night in a tent that was completely buried. She dug a small vent up to let air in and what little smoke her heater gave off out. It was a long, grueling night.
Colorful
She smiled as she worked. To a human, the splash of color on canvas was meaningless. The idea that she could craft her own art was an incredible thought. She did not try to capture the image of something that existed - why would she? Instead, she painted pleasing patterns.
Jaded
She sighed. She wanted to believe in the good of the world, and then this happened. It was two of the woodworkers - she did not know their names. "You know this is not tolerated," she said evenly. Rage gave her punch strength. No one deserved to be hurt like that.
Knight
"Commander!" The man snapped to attention. She had been recognized for her efforts in the previous wars, but honestly, she had no idea how to lead. She had run mostly solo campaigns, because of her "gifts." The idea of running a fortress was terrifying. What if she failed her people?
Translate
With how many years the Alliance and Horde had been fighting, she would have thought that a translator would be superfluous by now. Still, she served as well as she could, for basic confrontations. The others around the garrison got together, cornering her to demand lessons. Of course, she obliged.
Chosen
Once again, she found herself traveling to strange lands a t the beginning of a new war. She was not chosen as part of this mission, but her employer was. She was not one to abandon a job because it got dangerous, and so she demanded a position in their company.
Bird
She swung the 'copter around, firing at the massive skeleton below. There were still a number of free roaming undead after the fall of the Lich King, though not nearly so many as during his reign. She did not mind clean up: it gave her time to think.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
50 Word Thoughts - VI
Happy
She was dreaming. She knew that, but it was a good dream. She was enveloped in a sense of pure light and warmth. There was a soft chiming noise that filled her mind. "You are not alone," it said. She woke, groggy. On the contrary, she occupied a solitary cage.
Adequate
"That is not good enough, maggot!" She appreciated that the instructor treated her no differently than the adults he worked with. She wanted - needed - to prove to herself, to everyone, that she could keep up, that she was as good as any adult - if not better.
Transpire
It came to pass that she found herself working at a military base. As far as her peers were concerned, she was a young enlisted man. That was the story, anyway. They let her participate in their games, gambling being their favorite. She lost, so now she cleaned the latrines.
Employer
She snorted softly. The man - the dwarf - who ran this organization was a petulant child, going into an infantile rage because things were not as he wanted them to be. His wife was more respectable, in her eyes. Besides - it was his wife who had invited her here, not him.
She was dreaming. She knew that, but it was a good dream. She was enveloped in a sense of pure light and warmth. There was a soft chiming noise that filled her mind. "You are not alone," it said. She woke, groggy. On the contrary, she occupied a solitary cage.
Adequate
"That is not good enough, maggot!" She appreciated that the instructor treated her no differently than the adults he worked with. She wanted - needed - to prove to herself, to everyone, that she could keep up, that she was as good as any adult - if not better.
Transpire
It came to pass that she found herself working at a military base. As far as her peers were concerned, she was a young enlisted man. That was the story, anyway. They let her participate in their games, gambling being their favorite. She lost, so now she cleaned the latrines.
Employer
She snorted softly. The man - the dwarf - who ran this organization was a petulant child, going into an infantile rage because things were not as he wanted them to be. His wife was more respectable, in her eyes. Besides - it was his wife who had invited her here, not him.
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