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  • #4053
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Unaware that she’d been spotted at Keflavik airport, a few hours later Hilda was happily sipping a cocktail in the glass-walled Northern Lights bar of the Ion hotel, listening to eerie Icelandic folk tunes and marveling at the mystical ambiance of the place. She was particularly taken with the surreal moss covered lava fields outside, and congratulated herself on her decision to lay low in a remote location for a day or two, while the dust settled, so to speak.

      #3735

      In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

      Jib
      Participant

        Master John was infusing L.O.V.E. (Love Octarine Vortex Emotion) communications through e-Ther, the energy framework supporting physical reality and the emotional world around it. He was a 5thD master choosing to touch the masses and chosen individuals more specifically. He’s been participating in several source events as he’d learned to expand his awareness of time and space.

        He was also observing the training of the FAMs (Future Ascended Masters) while learning himself to expand his awareness in other directions. He’s always been busy while on earth, when he was a prophet. He’d always loved to teach and guide, although he’d lost his head for that. Who would have thought that woman would be more interested by his red head rather than his other attributes. Truth as that he had beautiful blue eyes at the time. Unfortunately they lost their luster in death.

        The e-Ther was rather sluggish over most of the continents of the Northern hemisphere, due to intense fear and agitation after the market went down once again. It’s been over crowded since the demographic explosion that began during phase three of the “Human Harvest” source event. Furthermore, ever since the invention of hypnotherapists, the emotional network wasn’t reliable anymore. Unable to receive H.O.L.Y. communications the usual way because they had forgotten how to listen, they had hacked the e-Ther to find their own answers. That has caused many interference and mistranslations of data that weren’t addressed to the hypnotherapist or their clients, taken out of context and of time framework.

        They have been in dire need of new masters in order to catch those fast increasing RFA (Request For Answers) and correct the course of the current source event.

        #3341

        “Is that… a flying drone?” the woman asked, pointing at the buzzing monster that just flew past them
        “Nope, it’s a cicada. The ones around here are huge”
        “No way! That thing was carrying a cat!”
        “Yep. They tend to get hungry that time of year. The mating and all…”

        She gasped for air, unconsciously voicing her thoughts “How come those things became so enormous?”

        The guy replied calmly “There’s a theory… That gaping hole…
        “The one that appeared in the ground a few weeks ago, the size of a football field?”
        “Yeah, that one…”
        “I thought it was the reason why they called the Surge Team, although it’s a bit late, now. What about it? “
        “It’s not really the reason why we called you. The hole was benign, the region was inhabited for years. But it released cubic tons worth of oxygen in the atmosphere.”
        “So what?” she was puzzled.
        “Well, that theory states that insects size is proportional to the amount of oxygen in the air… Supposedly the reason why there were giant insects in the prehistoric ages…”
        WTF?”
        “Yep,… wait till you see the size of the mosquitoes”, he said handing her a shotgun.

        #3307

        Sanso was tied securely on a Louis XVI chair, inside an ornate room kept mostly in the dark by heavy embroidered curtains that smelt of celery.
        He was craving for a tomato juice to go with the smell, and could hardly focus on an empty stomach.

        He could have easily escaped from his predicament, but he was curious about his captors, and the reason why they had him abducted after he went back to his little love nest in the R&R B&B where he’d hoped to meet again the mysterious Lady Cucumber. That was his name for her.
        He was hopeless with names, and although he was sure he had heard hers before, he preferred to remember people by associations. With Irina, that was Cucumbers. There! he thought, another proof of the brilliance of this method, as I remembered her name… Iris? Eyrin?, well, Lady Cucumber.
        He’d made love to many a lady in his life, a lady in Salmon, even a Lady Mermaid, a Lady Gingerale, a Lady Panty, a ladyboy even. He could go on for hours thinking about them, but the lady Cucumber had spun a spell around his head it seemed.

        After his last mission on a rescue with Miss Bob and her Sponges Squarepanties team, he’d run back for the 2222 B&B.
        No sooner had he arrived that heaven and hell broke loose and things went to rules and “do that or else”‘s, all things he abhorred with a passion. The links, and keys for his chains, that he could suffer, so he focused on it for awhile.

        He was woken up by a splash of ice cold water on his pants and a raucous voice in his face. Better that than the reverse, he chuckled to himself.

        “Something funny now? Tell us, where did she go?”

        He knew better than to feign ignorance, so he preferred to feign knowledge, which he’d found usually worked miracles.

        “Of course. She stole something from you…”
        “Damn right, she steal it, and we want back it.”

        The accent was difficult to place, he’d known so many inter-dimensional dialects that sometimes it was hard for him to remember.
        He would have said some northern Chinese dialect accent, with a bit of kiwi.

        He needed to know a bit more before disappearing. His curiosity was aroused by the implication that what she stole was certainly valuable. What could it be, a revolutionary hairsplitter, a butt-fluffer, a fringe freckler, ah! his head was teaming with great possibilities it was making him dizzy.

        “Don’t be silly Mister Sanso, she steal it robot very precious and advance technology.”
        and before he could reply:
        “Yes we read your mind, I confirm… You have silly thinks Mr Sanso.”

        He was starting to think now was a good time to get lost, and started to confuse their mindreader with energy patterns otherwise called gibberish thoughts.

        The chains and ropes gave way easily.
        His next move was to phase out of the room, but instead he managed to fall on his butt, in the middle of mocking looking Chinese in tuxedos and purple bow ties.

        “Ah, I see, you have some antiportation technology…” Sanso was a fair player. The temptation was big to run for another exit, if only for the exhilaration of a chase in the corridors of that strange place, but his stomach was thinking otherwise.

        “I see you are vely fond of kewcomber, we are no animawls, we will give you delishius kewcomber.”

        Minutes after, he was thrown with a certain form of Chinese ceremony in a small cubic windowless room. On a table next to the door, was his meal apparently.

        He recoiled in horror when he opened the lid covering his plate. The strong odour of garlic pricked his nose.
        “No way! Fucking jokers!”
        That was even worse than to eat boiled cucumber chunks in spicy sauce.
        Swimming in soy sauce were slices of chewy sea cucumbers that looked more like fat juicy leeches from a filthy bog.

        He ate reluctantly, arguing with his stomach about the benefits of the collagen in said sea cucumbers, and at the same time realized the Chinese mobsters were probably from the Chinese Robot Incorporated Mission Eternal, a renowned corporation that had managed to free countless people from menial jobs thanks to prodigious advances in robotics.
        The Lady Cucumber was suddenly more than a mysterious beauty, she was also a mysterious wanted beauty, and he couldn’t wait to… But he had to guard his thoughts for now.

        He looked at the bamboo chopsticks with a sly smile. He had not said his last word, and the person who could boast of having Sanso detained was not born yet.

        #2744

        In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          What a kraken was doing in Adryattic was anyones guess. Nobody really knew why there were penguins on September 6th bridge in Cairo, either. True, there had been snow in Alexandria that winter, and in Gaza, and the northern lights had been seen as far south as Nigeria, but it didn’t explain the presence of the kraken or the penguins.

          #601
          Jib
          Participant

            Georges and Salome’s journal

            From Georges’ account of his arrival in Tur.

            There is a strong energy concentration on some part of this planet called the Duane. I’m not yet familiarized with the geography of this world, but it seems to be a starry Island on the northern territories. The island is inhabited by a particular race that call themselves the Guardians. It seems that they are the only remnants of their previously flourishing civilization, most of them have migrated to another planet of the triplanetary system. The energy concentration is acting like a magnet, tuned to the other 2 planets, the Murtuane and the Phrëal. Maybe helping maintain the 3 of them in that particular triangle like alignment around Alienor.

            The source of energy is coming from a giant crystal ball in their main City and is kept active by the Guardians. I’m wondering if they are responsible for the particular planetary aspect of this world. They are aware of other dimensions and other realities. But they are keeping these information for themselves. Planetary travels are not allowed for the other races apparently and they are not willing to exchange with other dimensional beings. I’ll have to play smoothly to gain their trust and get known. Apparently the body I chose for this first contact with this world is similar to one of their Jokan or higher ranked guardians. Maybe that will be of help.

            There are twelve of them, and I think the 12 Jokan are directly connected with the 12 essence families of this dimension. Usually there are 4 of them present on each of the 3 worlds. But again that is information that is hidden to the other people of the Duane. I’m not sure about the other planets yet but it seems different.

            #1312

            In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster
              #327

              The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

              Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

              The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

              For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

              The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

              Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

              :fleuron:

              The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
              He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
              They were mere beggers.
              The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
              The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
              The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
              The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
              At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
              Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
              And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
              Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

              He was remembering of an amusing event.
              A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
              The Assassin accepted the contract.
              A few days later he killed the second man.
              He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

              He never questioned the motives of his clients.
              It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
              His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

              The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

              :yahoo_alien:

              :fleuron:

              Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

              The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

              Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

              Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

              #280

              When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
              The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

              So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.

              But Bådul knew better.
              He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.
              He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter “We all gonna diiie! AHAHAHAH! DIE! DIE!” Then winking at Bådul and laughing again.

              :fleuron: :fleuron:

              A few months earlier, Northern Åsgurdy

              A huge cloaked figure was riding in the middle of the deserts. The saurhse, a bit small for its rider, was getting tired, but the man wanted to move before the night came. Åsgurdy had a climate which made travels uneasy on land, and only on these bipedal saurians they named saurhses, could Åsgurdians easily travel on the burning hot sands by day. Then, they could gain the high plateaus of rock and ice, where the temperature was kept cold by the high chilly winds. But at night, the deserts would be chilly too, and the cold-blooded creature he was mounting would require a shelter.

              He knew that such a shelter wouldn’t be far away now.
              That region was mostly uncharted as it was fairly remote from all known cities, but that strange man he had met had said he was a traveler who knew were he could find something priceless.
              At that time, Badul had felt he had nothing to lose, and said to himself “when in doubt, go for the experience”.
              He had felt he could trust that man known to him only by a strange name, something like Gheorg.
              There had been nothing boastful about him, and he had been kind to him. He had been the only person in the World he had known to have given him back his dignity as a human being, and even more, to have given him a reason to live.
              He owed him a lot, and perhaps even more as he was now drawing closer to the cave… that same cave which was a mere cross on the torn map he had been drawing hastily before vanishing almost preternaturally, living him a bit of money and that map…

              ~~~

              Roselÿn had felt the urge to move somewhere else. This land didn’t resonate with her energy, and that of Rëgkvist, and of the few eggs the dragon had managed to lay, none had actually been able to hatch.
              It had affected her so much that she had even retreated from her sisters’ usual talks through the glubolíns.
              She needed to move on.

              ~~~

              When he entered the cave, Badul was disappointed. He could feel there had been someone living here quite recently, but it was like the cave was now abandoned. He hoped he could have found more answers, but now it was again like burning sand slipping through his fingers.

              In a fit of rage, he took a boulder as big as him and threw it across the cave with a roar.
              Something was brought down by his huge force further down into the cave and he heard it quite distinctly.

              He tied up the saurhse at the entrance of the cave, and entered it with determination, ducking through the tunnel too narrow for his big baby-faced frame. Then he found something glowing. At first, he thought it was some gold, but what kind of fool had been living here before and had been in such a haste to move as to forget gold?

              It was not gold. It was something like a broken shell. The broken bits were like a jigsaw puzzle and he wished he could make it one, as he was attracted by the strange radiance of the thing.

              :fleuron: :fleuron:

              Austor did not believe his eyes…
              They had crossed the Rift, all three of the ships.
              And it was nothing like the dark void they had nearly expected behind.

              It was an open sea, glistening in the sun, and all hope had come back through them all.

              #79
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                September 12 th, 2007

                Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                September 13 th

                Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                This first comment seems very promising.

                Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                We’ll be having some fun soon…

                First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                We will appeal to his imagination.
                It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                September 14 th

                For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                Is it raining or not in that world?
                The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                How will it unfold?
                Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                September 15 th

                Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                September 16 th

                Halcyons days…
                My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                September 18 th

                Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                Characters drawn:

                • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                September 21 st

                For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                September 22 nd

                Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                Characters drawn:

                • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                September 23 rd

                Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                  Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                #245

                Captain Bone was packing his trunk. The boat was leaving at noon from the quayside of the fishing village, and the captain was nearly ready to say goodbye to the Sharples family. He’s been happy staying with the Sharples and their unruly brood, but he was a man of the sea, and the salty breezes and rollings waves and promise of new adventures was beckoning.

                The sea mist rolled over the cluster of cottages as it often did in the early mornings, mingling with the aroma of coffee and freshly toasted crumpets. Captain Bone remembered other morning mists from other shores, warm ones laced with cinnamon and cloves, and chilly ones pungent with fishy smells and squalking gulls…… bright sunny mornings with long golden shadows and the endless half light of arctic northern ones.

                The captain closed his trunk without checking to see if he’d remembered everything. Whatever he needed on his journey, he knew he would find. Whatever he left behind, he knew the Sharples would keep safe until his return.

                ***

                Manolo the vet helped the captain onto the boat.

                ¡Hasta la vista, hombre! ¡Buen viaje! Long Tom Bone winked and smiled. As soon as he’d set foot on the boat, he sighed a huge sigh of relief, and all the aches and worries of living on dry land drifted away.

                The Sharples family passed the tissues round. It was going to seem strange for awhile without the captain.

                #221

                Bådul was pondering at the bow of his boat.

                His boat was not the largest his people had made, but it was all he had been afforded by the King of Åsgurdy, Swartulf II. Two others vassals who had been very impressed by Bådul’s delivery and determination had allotted him two other smaller ships.

                The ships were tailored for the high seas, and in many ways were not unlike what Quintin’s Viking ancestors would have called a snekkja , or a kind of dragon boat. The three ships had been sailing alongside, for more than forty days now, very easily through the Northern Seas.

                Bådul was pondering, because it had been twenty days more than any known explorer had been allowing themselves to go West (or East, for that matter), and his crew was manifesting some hints of doubts.

                He was pondering also, because for the glimpses of that route that he saw through the boy’s mind, he knew that he was heading towards some kind of passageway in between the Great Rift, a chain of sub-oceanic volcanic mountains, that were showing on the surface, and likely to be treacherous, and full of eddies. Jahiz, his faithful commander in second was a skilled mariner and Bådul knew he could trust him, at least for these sailing matters.

                A myna bird that Jahiz had brought with him was periodically sent as a scout in the vast seas in front of them, to report any trouble that may lay ahead.

                And now, as Badul was still pondering he had still not seen the damn foul-mouthed bird back, some seamen started to shout, as a black point was appearing in the midst of dark clouds.

                And finally, Rudy the myna (which was actually named Mercurius but that had been too long to pronounce for the rough crew) landed like a wet grenade at the feet of Badul howling “Mind your backs! Mind your backs!

                #136

                Inside her cave, Malvina was playing the harp. She was happy and in harmony with the Worlds.

                She came from a long lineage of Light Sorcerers and Sorceresses, but had preferred to the fuss of a great career in one of the quarreling kingdoms, a pleasant life inside this cave. The cave had been empty when she had found it, safe from some schpurniatz, but she knew how to tame them, and she had even left a few shadowy places for them to rest , hung upside down under the holes and crevices during daylight, when she had used Magix to transform the rocky walls into a comfortable dwelling place.

                She was happy, because new eggs had been laid, and they had come early this time. The eggs, she cherished not because of their gilded aspect, but because they were the sons and daughters of her mighty dragon friend Leörmn. Eggs were highly sought by greedy pirates of the Northern Seas, and though she had been as discrete as possible, she knew they had lots of informants, and her aura was spreading in the villages around, especially since she had helped that little boy who had fallen inadvertently inside the cave.

                At least, this time she would be warned by Leörmn, who was keeping watch at the entrance, and whose riddles could very well befuddle the greedy uninvited fellows into forgetting their names altogether.

                So now, she played, and played, and music notes were like soothing water drops, carried away by the rivulet inside the cave…

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