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My little Fable.Once, in the long lost Fharn of Zhirth, there was a man who claimed to be able to best any foe in one-on-one combat. This man, Lialis-Red-Hands, was a master of the Dance of Death, that age-old technique of survival that is still taught by a few of the remaining Cheueist monks.My little Fable.
One day, a noble of the house of Tlaloth came before Lialis and begged him to assist with his families failing fortunes. Amused at the plea, Lialis said this to the man “Find me a warrior worthy of me in battle, and you shall find yourself and all of your kin supported for the rest of your days. However, you only get one chance. If the warrior you send does not
by ~Scincus
Guess what?The parents sat at the head of the table, imposing; granite faces reflecting nothing but sheer altitude as they gazed over the clouds at each other. Children, squabbling for position, push and shove to see who will get to be in the middle, farthest away from the parents’ stony gaze while delicious morsels of meat float on the silvery expanse that is the table, dauntingly close to their hungry faces, and yet they are unable to reach out, to take what should rightfully be theirs. They use no silverware, for they have no arms; they need no napkins, for they have no lips to clean. They are hungry for food they have already eaten, and will eat agaGuess what?
by ~Scincus
Final installment, for nowNow there were about twenty of us, hanging suspended in front of the window, waiting for whatever fate the Eldest had chosen for us. We did not talk, as the force fields had locked even our jaws together. We could only breathe out of our noses and that only with difficulty. I waited, prepared to accept whatever fate was chosen for me. Suddenly, the force bonds around my body began to press harder against my skin. My throat was being crushed. I struggled for breath, struggled to stay alive. After what seemed hours of painful squeezing, the force shields relaxed. To my right, I heard pitiful mewling sounds coming from another soldier. I hFinal installment, for now
by ~Scincus
Pages 3-6“Brothers! Prepare Yourselves!”Pages 3-6
A loud buzz, ear shattering, should the unprotected ear hear it, fills the stadium, the sound of a score of thousands of engines all powered up at once. No one notices, all ears are on radio sets in helmets, awaiting the order to kill.
“Begin!” The final command booms out over the massive speakers in the wall, and over the ‘com systems of a million soldiers.
Immediately, from all the corners are launched a multitude of small mortars. Northwest concentrated on northeast. Southeast divided fire between southwest and northwest. Northeast didn’t fire, but instead
by ~Scincus
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"Life sucks, get a fucking helmet." -Denis Leary.
have fun in europe.
eggsack.
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"Life sucks, get a fucking helmet." -Denis Leary.
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"Life sucks, get a fucking helmet." -Denis Leary.
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"Life sucks, get a fucking helmet." -Denis Leary.
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