braenuun

Minutes later, I poked my head around the side of the barrel I hid behind. There were eight man sized things approaching, and the large one that we had seen coming a long way out. They were spread out, on and off the trail. The large one headed straight for the entrance, towering the height of four men. I realized I was shaking. Reticend’s gloved and armored hand patted my back once in reassurance. “Demons,” she whispered. The demons came toward the village, approaching the walls. They began to climb over, and in a blink, they charged, each headed to a target as if they had known where each of us was at. Before the archers could loose an arrow, the demons were at the backs of us on the ground. In the same blink, Reticend was meeting a demon as it charged her. Screams from three of the four men with swords told of their untimely demise as a demon reached its sharp claws in toward my gut to rip me open. First instinct told me to react by grabbing the thing’s arm. My hands gripped a hot, rocky stick of demon flesh as the wave of sulfur smell followed. It shrieked in surprise that I had caught its strike. Blood pumped viciously through my veins, and every passing smallest bit of time allowed me another instant to see the twisted, angry, burning fire behind its dark eyes set in its large, razor-tooth mouthed head. It screamed and tried to push forward more before trying to strike with its other hand. Deep in my heart, my soul screamed for this demon to “GET BACK!” I had screamed. Like a ragdoll, it topped back as if swatted off of its feet by a giant hand. Another, having finished one of the swordsmen, charged me. Holding my hands up reflexively as if pushing a door shut, I willed a barrier before me between the demon and Ime It struck and stumbled back, confused as it shook its head. Arrows struck this one, but it turned in anger and climbed up one house and ripped into an archer. Reticend was in a sword dance with the demon that met her. In two steps, a swing, a parry, and strike, she had split the demon in two from shoulder to hip. The steel of her sword sizzled as the hot blood from the demon dripped away.

“I feel what?” I heard her armor clanking, then a pause. “That storm has been summoned. It is not natural.” Wind smelling of rain lifted stray hairs upon my head as I turned back to the storm. There was an unnatural scent to the storm. “It may become time to practice some of your arcane magic, mage, at the very least for the sake of the people in this little village town.” Additional clanks from armor being set into place on her frame kept me from speaking more. Villagers started coming out from their stone and mud brick houses, pulling in laundry and goods from storefronts. They waved at me, but were visibly confused by the emotion on my face as I stood in the archway of the entrance and looked from the darkening skies to them. Uncertainty and fear must have been present; the hastened to bring their things in and called to nearby others to tell them to hurry. “The monk is worried. This storm is something big!” Reticend’s feet hit the floor heavier than without the armor. Metal plates slid and touched as she walked. A grand gold oak surrounded by thorns glistened on her shield. As she unsheathed her sword, the edges brushed against the sides of the scabbard. The protector stood tall, stead like the oak on her shield and ready to make foes bleed, like the thorns that surrounded the tree. “Do you really think it’s that kind of storm?” She nodded with a half grin. “If my guess is right, it’s the same foe that took my last mark to protect.” “Who give you your marks?” “No one now. Are you armed?” “I guess we’ll find out,” I sighed. Soft vibrations climbed their way up my legs. They were steady, evenly paced. They were footsteps. Reticend walked into the road. I followed her until we stood at the entrance to town. A small crowd of brave or foolish people stood behind us, a few with swords and a few with bows and arrows. Down the path, a dark figure approached. “Perhaps we should hide to get a jump on this thing. It’s rather big.” Archers nodded, fell back and dispersed into house, poking their heads from second story windows or roofs. The few with swords crouched behind barrels and bales of hay in the entry courtyard. “Let’s see if this works…” I held out a hand toward the path into town, only about ten feet from the short stone wall that came barely up to my chest. The first time you do anything new, it feels awkward or ungainly. This felt like I was a fool, holding my hand out, straining as if to move something that I wasn’t even touching. No. I should just be able to will it into existence. It’s hard to make yourself move without any idea of where you want to go, to do a flip without knowing what muscles to will. It’s hard to work with energies and matter in a way you’ve never done. The concept was clear in my mind, sheer will was all that was left to use. It seemed to stupidly easy. A soft glow upon the ground was the only clue my cast might have worked. Reticend noticed and went to poke it with her sword. “Don’t,” I warned. “If I did that right, touching that is going to be unbearably painful for you.” I did this several more times. “How are you defending or fighting for yourself?” There were many combat spells I learned of. “I’ll figure out how in a bit.” We both ducked down into ready positions and awaited the beast to approach.

skeedabadabeedabadabrrreedebeedah, yeeeeahhhh

if I could figure out how to, i could get you a live hearing of a song or three that i've written. the hardware for that tho is obnoxious. perhaps my webcam would do well enough

“You said that you do not know your true power.” I nodded. “If how you say this magic works is correct, then I would posit that you are more powerful than you suspect.” I raised my eyebrow at her suggestion. “You willed my mind to go elsewhere. The mind of a protector is not a weak thing. We train to resist the temptations and incantations of those who use magic, though we use no magic ourselves.” “That would be why you were so adamant about me having done something to you. I didn’t feel that it took much at all to do that.” “And you do no magic to the townsfolk?” “Not intentionally. Not knowingly. I never manipulated anyone. I’ve always talked to people and worked my needs out with their needs and came to a common ground.” “I sense you tell the truth. But you have not said why you seek the arcane.” My eyes avoided hers, and I looked at the ground. “Ah, secrets that we aren’t proud of, eh?” “No. Sad memories that give me purpose. They aren’t important; what is is that I mean no harm to anyone and seek the arcane, even though those who seek the arcane usually do so specifically to harm others. My intent is not to harm.” “So you seek to protect, then?” Pondering this, I looked at her before nodding. “To protect the people of the land?” I shrugged. “To protect a lost love who may or may not be alive?” “No, not that at all. Though,” I nodded, “that would be a valiant cause to me.” “Then to protect your -” “Would you just stop, woman? I said my purpose is not important and you need to stop prying.” Tossing back a mouthful of the husky fruit’s juice, Reticend nodded and smiled. “You’re not seeking for yourself, completely, and that is enough for me.” Tilting my head was enough of a question. “I think we could be of use to each other, Legareth.” Pushing herself from the wall, she began to walk away toward the front of the church. My curiosity demand me follow. We stood in the archway where heavy doors once stood. They were long since ripped away for some other purpose. In the direction I had found her, clouds were rolling in, dark and ominous. Hair on my arms stood on end as a chill ran through me. Reticend looked to me and half smiled. “You feel it, too.” Walking back toward the cots, she left me at the door.

Ive played piano since I was 8 (17 years). Everything after that comes from that skillset: drums, banjo, guitar, bass, vocals. the music I write only recently, 7-8 years ago, became anything decent, but I don't ever devote time to finishing or polishing off. It becomes more a poetry jaunt with a guitar and it just sort of ends there. reading music is more difficult for me than one might expect of a 17 year player. If I hear the tune, though, I can play it. So, there's really no limit. (learned Yiruma's River Flows in You verbatim just by listening to the song, for example, then of course, added to and improvised upon it ^-^) There are limits to difficulty. I could If I put my mind to it, but music has taken a back seat without others to keep me in it. I'd rather chunk out stupid songs around a campfire than actually learn something beautiful unless its a random session of me bullshitting on the keys. *shrugs*

I may try too! Assuming I don't over extend my time. -__- bad habit in doing so.

I sport a blanfords fox as my main. Sometimes I squawk around as a cockatiel. I like specificity.

Hello, friend-to-be! may you find welcome in these strange lands theyre quite strange.

*raises hand* pick me!

“How much have you learned in your travels?” “I have learned…” I thought. In the last ten years, I had travelled to about fifteen old and ancient libraries that held something of worth. I’d met at least three other mages seeking arcane knowledge who would share what they learned and several more from which I had to run to save my life. Power makes people crazy. “I have committed to memory how to cast one hundred and fourteen different ‘spells,’ if you can call them spells. There are no words.” “How then does the magic work?” “It’s like moving your hand or fingers.” “You move your fingers and magic occurs?” She tore the dry meat and bread, taking a drink of the fruit’s nectar within. “No, you tell your fingers to move with your mind. They say we have souls that animate our bodies. You will you fingers to move. It’s like that. It’s like the whole world becomes an extension of will. There is no language to command nature with this; you will for nature to work with you. The force of your will ultimately is the power you have. Your will is trained like a muscle. Do you lift a rock weighing three people with your first try?” “Not unless you are freakishly strong to begin.” “Right, and you suggest that people don’t start freakishly strong. How do they get freakishly strong.” “By doing things to get strong.” “And often, you start with what you can handle, perhaps the weight of a person, and you practice and train yourself to do more. So over time, your body and muscles are able to do more. The will is the same.” She nodded and ate more as she listened.