|
| Thread: Season 2 begins - HC's Got Talent |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 · NEXT» |
|
GenieLord
Honorable
Legendary Hero
|
posted January 15, 2008 03:23 PM |
|
|
Season 2 begins - HC's Got Talent
Welcome to the new season of HC's Got Talent! 
On this season, we will explore for the greatest talent of HC, out of a bunch of talented posters, who were brave enough to take the challenge and compete.
The show is broadcast every Tuesday. We will have six shows overall, that in each one of them, some competitors are eliminated, and the show's winners move on to the next show. Eliminated competitors are sent to the Consolation Group, and the winner of the group will return on the final!
The competitors have to show their talents on posts, that have to be written until 23:59 on Sunday night. After that time, they cannot edit their entries anymore. I will advertise the show's results on Teusday. The competitors have to stick to the same talent through all the contest, but present other entry every show.
Comments and feedback, should take place here only. Comments on the show itself will be cut off on the editing, by our editor Kookastar. 
The judges:
Binabik
Kookastar
GenieLord
FriendOfGunnar
Lady_Milena
You can affect the results as well! Give your feedback here, and we'll consider it when we judge.
Mytical the Poet
 Eliminated on episode 3
Electronic William
Eliminated on episode 2
 Returned on episode 4
Wog_edn the Invisible
Eliminated on episode 1
Baklava the Torturer
Cepheus the Storyteller
Eliminated on episode 3
Antipaladin the Comedian
Eliminated on episode 2
Vidoja the Inactive
Eliminated on episode 1
Skullman the Dogs Stylist
Eliminated on episode 2
Isabelyes the Romantic Poet
Eliminated on episode 2
Daystar the Illusionist
Puzzle of competitors:
All the competitors are on the puzzle on the beginning, but when a competitor is eliminated, his card is burnt, and can only be written again if s/he wins at the Consolation Group.
So let's begin! May the greatest talent win!
|
|
GenieLord
Honorable
Legendary Hero
|
|
posted January 15, 2008 03:32 PM |
|
|
Episode 1
On the first episode, the competitors are going to have duels. I'm drawing your names out of the my magic bag, to see who's against who:
 VS 
 VS 
 VS 
 VS 
 VS 
The judges will decide which one of the two passes to the next level.
Goodluck, everyone. 
|
|
Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
|
|
posted January 16, 2008 08:00 AM |
|
Edited by Mytical at 11:20, 16 Jan 2008.
|
Morning dawns on Darrowdane, bright and sunny across the plain
Wheat waves gently alive in the wind, the sparkling ocean flows without end.
Flowers abound from stoop to shore, natures bounty has never had more
A rainbow adorns the waterfall nearby, birds sing as they race through the sky.
The smell of baking bread fills the air, children frolick without a care.
Warm inviting fires are lit to stay the chill, in preparation for the coming thrill.
Giant Tents are put up and banners are hung, ballons are filled and streamers are strung.
Animals of all sizes are paraded through the streets, people gasp in amazement at the daring feats.
The circus is in town come one come all, the word rings through every hearth, building, and hall.
It comes but once a year so don't miss out, you can hear the barker loudly shout.
The echoes of the past fall on no ears, for this year there is only tears.
The wheat has fallen, the flowers are dying even on the shore. There is no longer a waterfall, or at least not anymore.
No laughing children, no baking bread, Darrowdale for centuries has been dead.
Yet every year if you listen once more, you can hear the merriment that came before.
The circus is in town, come one come all, the word rings through every hearth, building, and hall.
It comes but once a year so don't miss out, you can hear the barker loudly shout.
____________
Message received.
|
|
antipaladin
Promising
Legendary Hero
of Ooohs and Aaahs
|
|
posted January 16, 2008 08:28 AM |
|
|
-You know those moments when you drive a car and someone stops waving then you get to them ask why did they wave at you and they said that they thought you ware someone else... But you are someone else..
-A merrid couple comes to see therapy about merrige and sex,the man sais he cannot sadisfy hes wife in bad. the councler started to kiss the wife and made peasent love to her. "see" he said "this you must do everyday"
the guy responded : " so ill bring her in 6 times a week,okay i cant startday we have a football match".
-Whats real sex? real sex is that after it even the nighboors are out to smoke.
-An american turists walks in england all of the sudden he feels the urge to urinate..so he looks for the dirtiest corner,as he finds one,he got there,and unzips hes pants,then a officer of the police stops him "sorry you cant do it here" says the officer "but officer i must relive myself out of this burden" said the man "not here,let me take you to another place" they got to a door with fency gardens and flags flying.
so the guy zips back after finishing and the guy asks how did you said this place is named-"the franch ambassy".
-a merrid couple is sitting in a resturant,while all of the sudden the man sais :"Dear the wine makes you look sexy" "but i wasent drinking " said the wife. "i know" said the man "but i was".
____________
types in obscure english
|
|
william
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
LummoxLewis
|
|
posted January 16, 2008 09:34 AM |
|
|
This probably won't get me anywhere in the competition, but I made a purely improvisation Video of me doing some computer music.
I was going to enter a 26 minute song (lol) but I don't wanna upload it right now. This song is about 8 minutes long, and I hope that you like it.
Computer Improvised Music
|
|
baklava
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Mostly harmless
|
|
posted January 16, 2008 05:25 PM |
|
Edited by baklava at 17:27, 16 Jan 2008.
|
Right, in response to William's astonishing disk-jockeying skills, I had to make a song of my own... So enjoy, I hope you like it
Tun-tun
You can find the lyrics in the "About this video" section (just click on "more")
____________
"Let me tell you what the blues
is. When you ain't got no
money,
you got the blues."
Howlin Wolf
|
|
skullman
Famous Hero
banned
|
|
posted January 19, 2008 01:00 PM |
|
Edited by skullman at 13:05, 22 Jan 2008.
|
my entry are funny dogs here is the first pic
never seen a dog do that
____________
|
|
isabelyes
Fierce Battlegriffin
|
|
posted January 19, 2008 09:13 PM |
|
|
my entry. it's a love-poetry:
Who will say this,
who will do.
the eye of truth,
the face of love.
this feeling,
wrapped and imprisoned,
the true expression,
of such a simple word.
you'll feel,
you'll see,
you're looking at your dreams,
with unknown desires,
for the very first time.
that's what you thought.
that's her kiss.
that's her power.
that's true love.
i don't know if it's really good in english, i first wrote it in dutch, but anyway, this is it, and i like yours, mytical!
____________
|
|
Daystar
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Back from the Dead
|
|
posted January 19, 2008 09:28 PM |
|
|
|
Cepheus
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Far-flung Keeper
|
|
posted January 20, 2008 04:38 PM |
|
Edited by Cepheus at 16:40, 20 Jan 2008.
|
I was given pretty short notice for this (yeah, thanks GL for inviting me about four days before the deadline ) so this is the tenth chapter of my original entry, which I might finish and include in a later round...
The protagonist is Sandro the Necromancer from Heroes III, shame on you if you don't remember who he is 
CHAPTER 10: INVASION
(Note - parts from this, mainly the first and last few paragraphs, are rephrased texts from Heroes III: The Shadow of Death: Unholy Alliance Mission 6 - Wrath of Sandro and Mission 7 - Invasion scenarios.)
Heroic deeds from some AvLee Rangers and a few Barbarians working out of Erathia wiped out the opposition to Finneas Vilmar's ascension to the throne. With this lucky turn of events he was quickly crowned, and I was now set upon the task of taking out the enemies who had invaded. Spies were already placed in the opposing armies to find out what they could.
It was easy to remove the AvLee, Erathian and Krewlod troops from Deyja, but the invasion itself would be much more difficult. To launch an offensive that would not leave one border open, we needed to assault both borders simultaneously. Once again, Finneas wished me to handle the matter personally. His faith in my abilities was touching, but even a puppet King must someday learn how to command if he was to be an effective tool.
On the fourth day of our offensive, my spies sent messages back, and the news was not good. The two groups were allied, but they possibly suffered from morale problems. AvLee, Erathian and Krewlod troops were all stationed in those castles. It would be easy for me to exploit this vital weakness. With the Armor of the Damned and the Cloak of the Undead King in my possession, I would easily overtake them and force these invaders out of our lands.
More information was soon smuggled out, and I almost laughed when I heard the news. Crag Hack, the brainless barbarian, was rampaging towards me, hoping to tear me limb from limb. He still wanted his gold, the title and the land. It was almost laughable: almost. Crag Hack was never a force to underestimate. His recent activities stopped the harvesting in the Erathian lands, and he put together the Statue of Legion, allowing the Erathians to gain too much population for me to deal with. Mr. Hack would get his due rewards, courtesy of myself.
Days later I learned that another old 'friend' of mine was now opposing me. Gem, the lady Druid, had taken up arms and was responsible for the slaughtering of Lord Fayette and his undead army. Such a waste that turned out to be! She was able to defeat the entire army I had given him and slay a perfectly good Death Knight. It was such a pity, he seemed like a nice fellow. It didn't matter. She assembled the pieces for the Cloak of the Undead King. Of course, she did send a letter to Ethric, tipping him off of my whereabouts. She would make a lovely lich.
A new individual was directing the brute force of Crag Hack. His name was Yog. Either my spy had discovered a truly interesting individual or he'd been eating too many mushrooms. Yog was completely blue and had the features of a very large Genie. According to my source, he once was a wizard and had mentioned the Angelic Alliance a couple of times, whatever that was. I could care less what he once did, but I did care about this new artifact mentioned. A few nights in the library would be an excellent way to spend my time.
My source in the Ranger's camp then reported back with information about the fourth of my opponents. This one was another interesting individual, a white elf named Gelu. At first I thought he might be an albino, but the flaming red hair said he's a half-breed Vori Elf. This Ranger was part of an Erathian special forces unit operating in AvLee. He investigated the death of Lord Falorel, the vampire who had successfully impersonated an AvLee lord... until I'd poisoned Vayarad for becoming too powerful. Now I'd have to take care of this pesky Ranger, who once did me a little favour by keeping the AvLee troops busy.
The nights in the library paid off after some time. I discovered what the Angelic Alliance was. It was a powerful sword created from six other pieces, allowing opposing towns suffer no morale penalties no matter which hero actually carries the blade. It was of utmost importance these heroes did not go searching for this artifact. With it, they actually stood a chance against me. It soon became clear that I would drive these enemies out of Deyja but would be unable to catch the ringleaders. They would fall back into heavier armed and better-trained camps and towns outside of the Deyja border.
It would not matter. I would conquer them and continue on to the rest of Antagarich. Soon, very soon, I would be master of this world.
Later it turned out that removing the AvLee, Erathia, and Krewlod troops from Deyja was easier than I thought. My new task would be more difficult. To launch an attack that would not leave one border open, both borders must be assaulted. King Finneas Vilmar, or "Deathknell" as he liked to be called, wished me to pursue this matter personally. His faith in my abilities was touching, but there would come a time when I would not wish to lead these battles.
"I have chosen two of my best practicioners to assist your efforts," Deathknell told me over a meal.
"Who?" I asked him.
"See for yourself," he replied. "Come!" he called to the corridor. These new generals stepped inside. I almost fell off my seat.
The first, a Lich in blackened armour, I did not recognise, but the second... her hair was deep purple, and her skin had taken on a lavender hue, but this was unmistakeably Vidomina! My Genie apprentice had grown to become Deathknell's "best practicioner". The revelation was a good one.
"Master," she curtsied with another of her trademark dark smiles. She wore a grim black dress, which suited her newfound aptitude.
"I realise you have met Lady Vidomina," Finneas pointed out, "and my good general's name here is Moander, a Death Knight. Both are to serve as your subordinates in the upcoming battle."
My reunion with Vidomina was somewhat short-lived - we did not converse much up until the battle, at which point we lost contact. But at least it was nice to know my efforts were not lost. We marched on the plains of Bragden with an enormous force one week later. Moander and Vidomina followed at my side as our shadowy horde of a thousand troops - Skeletons, Zombies, Wights and all the creatures of the night - shambled towards the combined forces of Erathia, Krewlod and AvLee. Days of straight marching passed until the enemy came into sight.
I screamed hurried orders at the captains. I had not honestly considered that four simultaneous armies were here to counter my own. Truly, the Wall of Destruction was an apt name for this borderland region...
"On my right, attack! On my left, wait for my signal!" I roared. Moander nodded at my command and scurried off to take care of the Erathian forces under the Vori Elf, Gelu. I traversed the flanks on the left, quickly reaching Vidomina's vanguard. "The battle will begin shortly," I informed her. "Best you take care of this Krewlish rabble while I put my energies into the AvLee guard. I am counting on your skill, Vidomina."
She smiled in a ghastly fashion, and I steered my steed east again to await the enemy approach in the centre of the battlefield. Already Moander's troops had engaged the Erathians in hand-to-hand combat. Hundreds of trained human warriors clashed arms with my legions of non-sentient Liches, mounted cavaliers charging headfirst with brandished lances to decimate our ranks. The Elves were encroaching on the soil due west. I watched on as silver-clad Pegasi soared towards our Black Knights, the main line of offence, mounted swordswomen yelling battle cries from horseback. Disciplined formations of Elven bowmen marched in perfect synchronisation, stopping at a distance and preparing their arrows.
"CHARGE!" I screamed at the Black Knights, and "HOLD BACK! DODGE THEIR ARROWS!" at my Liches. The non-sentient troops without any minds of their own at all served as fodder while the Vampires converged as a cloud of black bats, soaring south to prey on the Krewlod forces under Crag Hack and Yog. Then the Green and Gold Dragons soared overhead to meet our Bone and Ghost variants. This would be a heated conflict indeed.
I almost regretted having been too lazy to seek the artifacts myself. Perhaps then I'd have had some experience fighting these AvLee barricades. But it was too late to matter.
Floating Wraiths performed fell hand movements, draining mana from the enemy Clerics and Druids, while the lesser Wights performed diving movements to scatter the weak Centaurs, instantly rejuvenating from the spear-wounds they sustained in the attack. Zombies shuffled about with sledgehammers and great-axes, bashing Dwarven foes when the Skeletons couldn't and plunging straight toward the Elves, each of them sustaining up to ten arrow-wounds before keeling over in a pile of festering grime and flesh.
The Liches rushed about at my command, pausing every seven or so seconds to wave their staffs at the charging Pegasi, summoning clouds of deathly green smog to infest the enemy with foul energies. The Black Knights engaged the Unicorn armies before they could come close to assaulting the archers, while lumbering Dendroids wrapped their root-conjuring arms about my manifested Vampires as they struggled to elude their grasp and drive their great fangs into the nearest Elf.
In Antagarich, it is natural for battles of this magnitude to take hours, even days to progress to an eventual end. With over a thousand combatants on each of the four sides, this was no different. Midway through, I ordered four trusted Dread Knight commanders to take care of the command, striding off in search of a vantage point from which to throw spells at the enemy.
I climbed to the top a nearby peak, which by my reckoning was just south of the hamlet of Hudson Falls. From here, I could see all four thousand-or-so small warriors clashing it out, colouring the plains of Bragden red with visceral fluids. For centuries, Wizards believed that magic words, or incantations, were enough to summon a spell. In the past fifty years, it was theorised that the incantations only serve to shape the mage's thoughts and emotions into a viable energy source capable of manipulation - magic.
I didn't need that finery. I was a Lich with spell-power beyond that of any other. This was a damned battle, not an epic from before the Silence. It was time to massacre these pompous imbeciles.
"I know it's old, but smiting your enemies is a classic," I whispered with a sadistic laugh as I summoned forth a Lightning Bolt spell through arcane gestures and an inaudible growl. Before my very eyes, a ray of lightning flashed from the greying skies and struck the centre of the rear AvLeean battalions, leaving a charred mini-crater, some dead Elves and many surprised ones routed. I could see it all from my vantage in the peaks, and I still hadn't been spotted. The chill wind ripped at my cloak as I prepared a second unimaginative casting.
"Let's heat things up in the Elven ranks," I sneered, conjuring a vapid ball of cliched flame which, luckily, most of the enemy were too busy to norice from these distant hills. I hurled it in the direction of Krewlod's Behemoth ranks, charring the earth and incinerating ten of them in one simple casting. I then flicked my fingers in a cantrip designed to increase your field of vision. My eyes focused and I peered into the distance where the lightning bolt from earlier had landed in the AvLee ranks. And there in the distance was the man himself, Gelu of AvLee. For the first time, I noted his flame-red hair, snow-white complexion, strange brown body tattoos and peculiar black garments. He had an exceptionally young face. This was a child I was dealing with, no older than nineteen. A child leading the forces of AvLee!
He wasn't panicked, though. On the contrary, he ordered the archers I had so recently blasted with lightning to remain steadfast, personally directing the wounded to Lady Gem's first aid tents and subsequently rushing off to fire bout after bout of arrows with his composite, three-stringed bow. Many of his green-cloaked guerilla archers held the same weapons - I didn't know who had invented these things, but whoever it was, I swore I'd break their neck for their audacity in creating a weapon which clearly unevened the playing field.
Sadly for my allies, killing Gelu then and there without seeing the look on his face clearly just didn't appeal to me. So instead, I harnessed my Earth-elemental powers, bolstered by the Armour of the Damned and, aiming squarely in the direction of the distant Krewlod armies, clickled my fingers once more. This time, the rough earth turned to a sticky mire of epic proportions in a traditional Mass Slow spell. The raging Behemoths, Goblins and Wolves, along with our own charging Death Knights, found themselves unable to move through the now-swampy ground. This left the enemy open to the attacks from my Liches' death clouds.
For my fifth trick, it was time to show some creativity. "It's all been done before... except this," I mumbled, rigidly raising my upturned skeletal hands in an Earth-based gesture. Tiredness began to take hold of me from the effort, but I persevered, focusing my dark channeling on the residual energies already there in the ground, just as Korbu had taught me. As I planned, tremors shuddered through the earth, their greatest impact swelling up right at the heart of AvLee's core defence lines. Just as I was about to burst with the raw struggle, the ground itself opened up, a gaping maw of darkness yawning a great abyssmal rift through the fields. It instantly swallowed hundreds of the hugely surprised AvLee troops, leaving about three hundred surviors and two very, very shocked leaders.
I staggered backwards, utterly defeated from the strain of ripping a bottomless crater through this region. Hours on end passed by before I regained enough composure to rise from my vantage and look out over the reddened fields.
They were pulling out. The AvLee forces were retreating west out of Bragden, and the Krewlish Barbarians soon followed. Eight hundred Erathians lay dead, awaiting reanimation from my necromantic magics. We had won.
***
If only it were always so easy! With the Cloak of the Undead King, I raised a hundred or so of the enemy's corpses as non-sentient Liches and left the rest for the amusement of my loyal troops - burning and feasting, mainly.
The night afterward, as I sat in my tent with my generals toasting our success with only half our main force overcome, a Vampire messenger interrupted our victory, presenting me with a Sone Crystal. Through it, Deathknell sent me a message; his tone was pushy and bossy as if he was in control of the situation. I left for a few months, and Finneas Vilmar suddenly believed he was running the show! The nonsense those court lords whispered into his ear must have somehow gotten into his hollow head. This sort of behavior was not welcome, nor would it be allowed. Fortunately, my presence was required in court, so I needed to take a quick transport there in order to fulfill certain obligations. Deathknell would be reminded who was really in power.
It was a pleasure to appear in the midst of court and rattle Finneas' bones. He was quite disturbed to see me and had to dismiss court early to collect himself. The rumours floating about the castle were not good ones. I reminded "King" Vilmar in his private chambers that it was I who put him on the throne and it was I who could remove him from it. The impression of my bony fingertips was now permanently emblazoned on his chest, a small spell I picked up years ago. Finneas would not soon cross me again.
|
|
GenieLord
Honorable
Legendary Hero
|
|
posted January 22, 2008 12:55 PM |
|
|
Episode 2
Competitors that continue to Episode 2:
Daystar
Mytical
William
Baklava
Skullman
Isabelyes
Antipaladin
Cephues
(There's no meaning to the order of the names)
As you may notice, things are a bit different than you might have expected. The only competitors eliminated are the ones that did not send entries. Everyone who sent something passed to the 2nd episode. However, for the second round you'll be judged for both 2nd and 1st round. So your entries for the 1st round are important.
You all got some special nicknames.
Those who didn't paticipate got very special ones.
The eliminated competitors' cards are BURNT!
Look at the puzzle of competitors on the masterpost.
The duels for this round:
VS
VS
VS
VS
Remember:
1. You'll be also judged for the 1st show's entries
2. No comments here! Only on this thread.
|
|
isabelyes
Fierce Battlegriffin
|
|
posted January 22, 2008 02:07 PM |
|
|
here is my lifestory:
this story lives in a world invented by phillip pullman.
i DO NOT want to steal anything from him,
but this is my life.
in another world.
i am surrounded by water, but I haven't drown.
the water's soft, and warm.
then, all of sudden, i feel life next to me, but it doesn't exist physically. weird. welcome!
i try to make place, but i can't. this space's too small.
where am I? i don't know.
i've been here for my whole life.
a strange sound!
i'm feeling strange...i'm being ripped! rippid out of this place!
no! ...finally?
my feelings are totally messed up. i don't know what this is!
i'm afraid, happy, warm, cold, hungry, sick, i can't hold this any longer!
i start to cry. harsh hands -what are hands?- grab me and put me on a hairy rush-bottom.
i feel something comforting next to me. i know her. her? him? her,
I think. i stop crying, but my eyes are still hurting, thanks to this horrible fresh air!
someone lifts us both, me and a life.
suddenly, I remember two names: Oliver, Olyandra.
'O, honey...' wishpers a soft voice. it's a woman, who stands very close to me. it's a warm, loving voice, who i have knowed very long.
i let my tiny head rest on her brest, ignoring the voices.
'How do we call him?'
'Oliver.' she says.
i start to coo: i know that name! i like it. i laugh softly.
a squirrel, little and tender, climbs on my neck, warms me with her fur. then, she talks: 'I'm Olyandra.'
the second name! it's complete!
but what?
how many times have i said: 'Olyandra, i love you!'
well, at least NOT too much.
'cause it's true! everybody loves his or her Daemon, don't they? and so do I!
we are both ten years now. I don't think i'll ever love someone as much as I love her, but some time ago I met someone...who came close to it.
Miss Coulter.
her long hair, filled with dark black ink, her soft voice...
oh, i just can't describe her! the only bad thing is: she is adult.
grown up. her Daemon doesn't change anymore. mine does.
my lovely Olyandra used to be a raven, except when we're playing.
ofcourse, she changes more than only then, but not as much as past.
she is angry with me because I, on that evening, that lovely evening, went with Miss Coulter. i thought she'll never speak to me, but now...it's just so hard to believe!
now i'm with her in the train, going to her occupation.
it's very far away, so she learns me about USEFUL things.
like: how to keep your Daemon friendly.
she knows very much, but she knows the most about Daemons.
she is so clever!
i don't know exactly WHAT she does, but it MUST be important, just like herself.
of two things i'm sure: it's about Daemons, and...Dust.
she notices Dust sometimes. i don't know what it is, but it's different than regular dust. special. unique, just like her job, her golden Monkey-Daemon, but especially as important as herself, the legendary wife of Lord Asriel, the attractive, beautiful...Miss Coulter.
we have arrived.
it's cold outside, but that's logical. I mean, we're in Bolvangar, right? in the middle of the ice winter?
i see other children, who're cold too. i want to sleep, and Miss Coulter sees that. she kisses me and says: 'sleep softly.'
such a beautiful voice...i am almost sleeping.
yes. lovely night. lovely night.
i wake up. the first thing i think about, is her voice.'
'sleep softly.' I smile, and i'm cold. I hug my Daemon, who's a cat right now. when I go to sleep, she always turns into a cat.
a lady-cat, because she's a girl.
i think that, if you're a boy and your Daemon is a girl, you ain't gay. i'm not, anyway, that's one of the many things Miss Coulter has learned me. without words, that's how she did it. she's so pretty!
and she's gone for a week now. i miss her.
it's so boring here without her!
everyday they call your name, they measure you, then your Daemon (without touching her, 'cause that's very rude). and after that, they'll check your Dust-caliber...it's SO boring.
i'm sleeping again.
someone wakes me up. hunger, is the first thing i think about.
the other children are already eating.
I put on my clothes and join them.
so boring. except this time. the noisy fire alarm steals all thoughts and as one man, we step up and begin to run.
everyone, except me. someone grabs me: 'COME WITH ME, NOW!'
i don't want to, but i can't contest his strong arms.
i lose my consciousness.
NO!!!
I wake up with a terrible pain in my heart.
'NO!!' I scream, I yell.
an enourmous feeling of pain and shame takes me over.
'Olyandra.' I cry.
then I doscover the horrible thruth .
they took her!
MY DAEMON!!!
MY OLYANDRA!!!
her name rages trough my blood, my veins.
I desire her warmth.
then I sigh, pushing my last breath out of my body.
my thoughts vanish in the devilish night.
I die.
____________
|
|
Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
|
|
posted January 23, 2008 07:22 AM |
|
Edited by Mytical at 06:45, 26 Jan 2008.
|
Unicorn
As I ride my jet black steed, I have no wants I have no needs
I race against the coming light, racing swiftly through the night
Accross the planes we weave and race, feeling the wind against my face
The sound of hooves echo in the air, running swiftly without a care
Every farm and villiage that we we pass, close the doors and lock them fast
Even though we stay well clear, they hide in their houses out of fear
As I ride my jet black steed, I have no wants I have no needs
I race against the coming light, racing swiftly through the night
Powerful legs carry us easy with blinding speed, as I ride my majestic steed.
Shimmering black darker then the night, it is a beautiful but terrible sight
No ordinary steed can match it not by far, racing faster then any shooting star
Like a comet it streaks through the night, racing against the coming light
As I ride my jet black steed, I have no want I have no need
I race against the coming light, racing swiftly through the night
Enjoying the feel of the rushing breeze, as we jump streams and dodge trees.
Always lonely but never alone, for my sins I try to atone
Yet they haunt me always never far, except for when I ride my shooting star
The sky lightens and dawn is nigh, as trees and houses race on by
We increase our speed to no avail, dawn is closing in on our trail
As the light grows a change takes place, changing the complection of our race
The gloss of black soon turns to white, as soon as touched by dawns light
I ride now on a pure white steed, I have no want I have no need
I race against the coming night, racing swiftly in the light
My heart is pure my mind at ease, as I enjoy the rushing breeze
Faster and faster enjoying the thrill, always moving never still
The villagers emerge and wave and cheer, everytime that we chance to come near
We ride on and on through hill and dale, onward always and without fail
Shadows lengthen all around, no rest for us can be found
My steed is now black from tail to horn, as I ride ever onward on my black unicorn.
____________
Message received.
|
|
william
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
LummoxLewis
|
|
posted January 23, 2008 08:20 AM |
|
|
Okay I present to you Electronic Revelation Part II I made Part I of it last year some time, and this was a 'video' version of Part II. I do have The 'studio' version of Part II, but I felt I needed to do this live.
Enjoy.
____________
~Ticking away the moments that
make up a dull day, Fritter and
waste the hours in an off-hand
way~
|
|
Cepheus
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Far-flung Keeper
|
|
posted January 24, 2008 10:18 PM |
|
Edited by Cepheus at 22:20, 24 Jan 2008.
|
Note: Unlike the previous story, this is all my own writing, but it serves as a prelude to Heroes Chronicles: Conquest of the Underworld. Basic info on the game's plot is to be found here.
Another note: Demons on Antagarich are not to be confused with Kreegans. This is not the Inferno town we're talking about.
A DEMON'S GOAL
Deep beneath the surface world, beyond the shadowy planes of existence which constitute the Underworld and its thousand Domains, two Demons conversed. One with deep black-red skin, beige horns, grim eyes and a dark, rugged beard about his face, the other an elder with a pure pitch-black complexion, four gleaming white horns and two sightless eyes without pupils. They sat in the highest chamber of a parapet connected to the inner hub of a structure known as an "Abyss" settlement. The Abyss was carved from black onyx, wrought on the rough floor of a massive, near-endless cavern.
"'Twas nigh on forty-five years ago when he challenged me, Jorm," said the elder Demon without functional eyes. "Forty-five years ago today was the end of our conquests above in the surface world... our attack on the plains they have now moulded into a human kingdom called "Erathia". Forty-five years ago today was the day of my duel with Rion Gryphonheart, the thrice-accursed knight who rended my eyes and forced us through the Cerberus Gate back into our lair."
The Lesser Demon, a brute named Jorm, inclined his head in silent thought. "This... is a bitter memory indeed. The other Dukes do not intend to follow your example, if I may say so. I fear our kind will resort to brutal civil war, beyond the minor territorial battle or dispute. We are becoming truly... barbaric. I have been wondering whether or not we will ever attempt to invade again."
Old Deezelisk, Duke of the Bottom, Lord of the Eleventh Domain, sightless since the invasion of Erathia, spoke again. "Not this worldspan, that much I know, unless we succeed. Indeed the next hundred worldspans will come and die before we are graced with another chance, if our next plan fails," he said with melancholy.
"You have yet to explain the nature of this plan, my lord. The man who blinded you must be aged by now - your chances for revenge are slipping away by the minute," Jorm worriedly noted.
"They too have come and gone. The man who blinded me is dead," said Deezelisk. Jorm finally realised the reason for the Duke's recent spiral into unhappiness. Even the loss of his sight had not fazed him four-and-a-half decades ago, but the discovery that his chance for vengeance had been wrenched away was surely a miserable one, especially for a Demon.
As though reading Jorm's mind, Deezelisk spoke up once again. "No... there is always a way to secure revenge. I have merely been lost in thought this past span, thinking of it. And at length I devised a solution."
"Which is...?" Jorm asked.
"Souls live on after death, you know," Deezelisk began. "And that fact is the hub of my plan's turning wheel. For beyond this world, beyond this astral plane lies another million worlds. One of these is known as Paradise, or the Plane of Life. It is there that the souls of the dead within this universe are drawn to live on eternally. Including Gryphonheart. And, down to the uncomfortable truth that anything is possible, I am convinced that you could infiltrate the Plane of Life, capture Gryphonheart's soul and drag it down to our plane of existence."
Jorm's face spoke for itself. He clearly disbelieved that any of this was plausible. Perhaps the Dhindlaar could arrange something, but... in any case, the Lesser Demon did not approve of the Duke's false hope. He was on the verge of saying so when Deezelisk delivered an irresistable offer indeed.
"I know you have craved a Dukedom for some time. You are allowing it to become an obsession, aren't you?"
Jorm remained silent. He knew well that the old Demon was damned right, but was far too proud to admit fault.
"A Dukedom as lord of the Twentieth Domain - how would this appeal to you?" asked Deezelisk, the beginnings of a smile appearing around his face.
Jorm instantly realised where this was heading, and succumbed. "Jor-Melgir would be an appropriate title..." he stated. Duke was the highest title among the Demons, twice as esteemed as Greater Demon and thusly a hundred-fold more influential than any Lesser.
"Ah yes," Deezelisk nodded. "Jorm of the Tainted Soul," he translated. "Fits well with the task I have set out for you. Take this..."
Deezelisk summoned out of thin air a small red orb with a metallic base. "The Orb of Inhibition," he claimed. "I took this from the Boatman himself - don't even begin to ask how, not even I fully remember the details. It may prove useful upon the return journey."
The Lesser Demon took the small orb, pocketed it, rose from his seat and began to depart, turning briefly before leaving the room to say, "If I fail, do not linger here, my lord. There is surely a way to restore your sight-"
"Ohhh," the Duke trailed off, "ohh, I have thought of that, my young lieutenant. It too is essential to the success of my grand design. Now go. Go with haste, and return with my darkest enemy..."
___________________
The Demon Sorceress was painting runes floating in mid-air with a dark black paint, a mixture of Widowsweep Berries and black dye combined with magics the denizens of the surface world deemed "unholy". She grimaced in disgust at the thought of those self-righteous surface-dwellers. The Dhindlaar, a Cabal of demon-mages mustered long before the wash of the Great Silence, had been decimated in the previous wars. Even now the Sorceress brewed truly devilish thoughts within the confines of the empty, silent cavern when her arrogant, younger brother emerged from the shadows near an adjacent tunnel. It took her more than a moment to recognise his appearance and distinct scent.
"Alnech," he hailed her. "My elder sister has become the first Queen of the Dhindlaar. Never did I expect to see the day."
The aging Demoness grinned at her brother and sighed. "You underestimate me, Jorm. Look to the exploits of Duchess Careenor of the Seventeenth Domain and take note of your own male shortcomings in comparison."
Jorm growled. "You wound me with your harsh insults. Come, then. The Duke of the Bottom implies a request that your spellcasting minions convey me to the Plane of Life - Paradise, he called it."
"Impossible," Alnech scoffed, waving him away and turning back to her rune-painting.
"You lie," Jorm declared, smiling at her. "I recall the worldspan in which you managed to teleport Olnubis through to the Elemental Plane of Fire in search of an audience with Pyrannaste, the Master of Fire."
"He never returned," Alnech grimly replied. "We do not even know whether he survived the ritual."
"Another lie," Jorm triumphantly answered. "You tracked his movements with the Eye of Charon. Even now he remains Pyrannaste's lieutenant."
"We Demons are obliged to learn from our mistakes," said Alnech, facing him again. "Thus was Olnubis's folly. He became ensnared by his surroundings and was claimed by the Fire Lord. Imagine the implications if you were taken in by Paradise! If not destroyed, you would become a living contradiction - a benevolent Demon. This I shall not take part in."
Jorm sighed deeply and paused for a while before replying. "This quest is for the welfare of the Duke of the Bottom. Aid me in accomplising it and I will see to it that my own reward will reflect greatly on your Dhindlaar. I can promise you this."
"What reward is that?" Alnech asked.
"A Dukedom," he replied.
Alnech stood back, aghast. The airborne runes flickered out of sight as her attention was severed from the force which held them aloft. "Are - are you serious, brother? A Dukedom?
"Duke Jor-Melgir of the Twentieth Domain," he stated. "My new title, should this venture go accordingly."
"You have always held a fine talent for changing the minds of others," Alnech conceded. "Very well. Proceed with us to the ritual circle."
___________________
Jorm concentrated, his brow beginning to sweat from the tempestuous fires erupting in the ritual circle. "This is no simple task for your subjects, is it?" he questioned.
Sixteen Dhindlaar mages surrounded the Lesser Demon, chanting a fell magic which would soon transfer Jorm's body, mind and spirit into an alternate plane of existence. Twelve lit candles were placed around the circle of bloodstained runes and glyphs where Jorm now stood. "No," Alnech replied. "This is not an undertaking for the faint of heart... nor those who value their lives, as it were. All sixteen of these Demons are fully fledged and trained in perfect synchronisation."
The rising temperature in the cavern was beginning to tire Jorm at an alarming rate. "Anything," he ordered Alnech. "Discuss something with me, anything to take my mind off this process. I cannot stand upright for much longer."
"Well," Alnech began, "I once heard that there is a race extraordinarily similar in appearance to our own, but somewhat younger and hugely different in nature. Their skin is known to take a more reddish hue than our blackish appearance, and they breed like hornets or wasps from the worlds beyond our own plane. Kreegal or Kreegan or something was the name of their species, I believe."
"Who told you this?" asked Jorm, both interested in the story and in diverting his attention from the pain soon to erupt from the surge of energy he would experience.
"One of the Dukes, Mal-Nechias if memory serves. Unfortunately, it often does not," chuckled Alnech. "They travel the Void above the worlds, he said, and were a product of the Creators. Of course, I do not know any Creators, but I trust in his words."
"Yes," replied Jorm hurriedly. "Mal-Nechias is indeed a learned Demon - his two thousand years of ruling the Fourteenth Domain have ripened his mind well. This ritual is taking far too long," he gasped. "When do you plan to-"
An insurmountable burst of chill-smoke erupted as Jorm disappeared. The nearby candles were extinguished by the chilling surge and the sixteen Dhindlaar suddenly dropped dead to the cavern floor, all of them utterly expended from conveying a mortal being into an astral plane. The sacrifice had been made - distasteful, but necessary. And if Jorm truly was to succeed in the end, the Dhindlaar would thrive.
Alnech smirked. "...to finish?" she replied. "You'll be in Paradise before you know it, my brother."
___________________
Pure agony from the released energy which shot out of his body upon the conveyance was the last thing he felt before dropping out of consciousness. He awoke to the sickening stench of otherworldly dew and grass, moisture cloaking his black beard and beige horns. Dazed, Jorm rose and shook the lingering droplets of water off his clothes and came close to retching after taking a breath of the pure air in this Plane of Life. It took him a good half-hour or so to regain his composure and recover his senses, but by that time he had already departed the "landing" spot in search of his target.
Souls dotted the landscape - thousands of them. Everywhere Jorm gazed he could not escape the sight of bluish, ethereal people wandering the landscape without heed to troubles of any sort. He could not help but wonder about their state of consciousness or their ability to detect his presence. Soon he learned that the souls could barely see him at all due to the presence of his body and mind. Old stories focused on the three essences - Body, Mind and Spirit. Upon death, the mind is extinguished, the body decays but the spirit lives on. Proof presented itself before his eyes.
The meadows and fields Jorm crossed seemed endless. He strode though the grasslands, utterly invisible to the hundreds of souls he encountered along his path - another inherent ability Demons possess, the power to go unseen at will. At the time he was merely trying to assimilate himself with his surroundings before traipsing off in search of Rion Gryphonheart, and he took note of the wild colours throughout the land which caused his eyes to sting. The sky was a valiant shade of blue, the numerous groves composed of tropical trees and plants of every known and unknown shade. Many leaves were pure yellow, blue and purple - it was almost as though this was an alien world.
Which it was, Jorm reminded himself.
Time drew on, and as his instincts slowly returned Jorm felt himself pulled towards his goal by unseen determination like a divining rod eased toward water. He stopped as he came to a heavenly clearing. Tropical trees and plants dotted the grassy landscape, beckoning moss-covered mountains shrouded the distance. Jorm pushed his way through the undergrowth, clawing down a rainbow-coloured butterfly which had the audacity to land on a yellow fern nearby. Then, with his reddish eyes, he gazed into the centre of the clearing.
And there was his prey.
Hunched over a pool of glimmering, light-emmiting water was a bluish figure in the image of a man. A neat beard enshrouded his face. He "wore" clean white attire with a blue cloak fastened down by two rubies. Immersed in whatever he was investigating, the soul of Rion Gryphonheart looked on in wonder, balancing another multicoloured butterfly on his right hand - seemingly the very same one Jorm had just destroyed - were these pools somehow connected to the afterlife itself? Jorm did not care. He rushed at Gryphonheart's soul in a blur of otherworldly motion, darting silently from side to side and ramming straight into the dead King.
Straight through the pool of light-emmiting water he fell, the soul of King Rion Gryphonheart the First trapped in his grasp. Willing himself beyond normal comprehension to return to the Underworld, he used the mysterious Orb of Inhibition the Duke had given him to transmute the sacred pool into a bath of searing flames which conveyed him out of the Plane of Life and back, quite stunned, to the Seventh Domain - Blackwhisper - and, out of marvellous coincidence, before the manor of Duke Deezelisk himself.
The sudden seperation from Paradise's energies had somehow rendered Gryphonheart's soul in a sort of coma. It lay slumped on the ground, quite certainly incapable of action, though not capable of dying. It could definitely feel pain, though. Jorm's years of experience as Duke Deezelisk's personal executioner of enemies had led him to understand that everything, living or dead, could suffer. This ethereal fragment of its former self was no exception at all. He was determined to prove it.
___________________
"As you requested, Duke," he announced, "the soul of King Gryphonheart is secured even now by the magics of the Dhindlaar in the Perpetual Chasm below your manor."
"Excellent, youngling," Deezelisk rejoiced, heartily. "There is, however, one final, extraordinarily simple task I ask of you before I bestow upon thee your Dukedom."
"Yes, Lord Deezelisk?" Jorm sighed.
"Do not complain - it is no bold favour I ask here. Put simply, I have a strong suspicion that a band of knights from this soul's former kingdom shall be arriving in our realm within the next worldspan. I request that you... welcome them into these lands. Prepare ambushes for them throughout the upper Domains, inform the Greater Demons of their trespasses. The other Dukes shall no doubt remain indifferent towards our schemes, so I am relying on you and yours to hinder their progress and ensure that they do not rise above an insignificance."
Slightly unsure, Jorm asked, "Why must we hinder their progress? I can have them all slain before they ever set foot beyond the Cerberus Gate."
"No," Deezelisk calmly responded. "One member of their quarry must be brought to me alive - the leader. Her red hair and royal attire should be more than enough for you to recognise with ease. Bait her armies down to Blackwhisper. They will eventually find themselves in need of my counsel, I can assure you... and when the time is right, she shall become the object of my true revenge," the blind old Demon growled.
"Her name, my lord?" asked the Lesser Demon.
"Allison Gryphonheart..."
|
|
antipaladin
Promising
Legendary Hero
of Ooohs and Aaahs
|
|
posted January 25, 2008 02:02 PM |
|
|
____________
types in obscure english
|
|
Daystar
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Back from the Dead
|
|
posted January 27, 2008 06:01 PM |
|
|
Hi!
Here's my entry for this week, cutting it close as always.
I had to put it on Media Fire since Youtube is being silly
linky
|
|
GenieLord
Honorable
Legendary Hero
|
|
posted January 29, 2008 10:06 PM |
|
|
Episode 3
The episode starts with evil laugh.
MUHAHAHAHA! 
The competitors that passed to the next round:
Mytical
Cepheus
Baklava
Daystar
All the rest are now on the consolation group, and have a chance to return to the contest and to paticipate on the great final! You have a lot of time (almost two weeks), so prepare your entry well, so you'll have a better chance to get back to the contest. Goodluck.
Instructions for the episode 3:
On this episode, there are no duels. Everyone is against everyone.
The best two will continue to the final. That's going to be very hard for the paticipates and espeically for the judges.
Entries must be ready until 23:59 GMT, on Monday, the 4th of Febuary. A competitor that doesn't send his/her entry by then will be eliminated *cough*Baklava*cough*.
May the greatest talent win move on to the final!
|
|
Mytical
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Chaos seeking Harmony
|
|
posted January 30, 2008 07:24 AM |
|
Edited by Mytical at 10:47, 02 Feb 2008.
|
We stand on a hill, back to back, leaning on each other
Our enemies fall like leaves, one after another
Still they come endlessly, for we two are the last
but as long as we have each other, we shall hold fast
A spark of steel on steel reminds me of the spark we share
Of how when you walk by all the guys stop and stare
The graceful way you move sends shivers from my head to my toes
How I ended up being with somebody as great as you, nobody knows
The softness of you skin belies how strong you really are
You are my strength, my muse, and my shining star
I can still feel the silk of your hair, even now
And know that we will make it, someway, somehow
The taste of your lips will give me the strength to go on
Until the battle is over, and the day is won
Their numbers thin and we grow stronger by each others side
our love for each other is enough to turn the tide
We get a chance to rest, and take each others hand
together here we two shall make our stand
Two more fall, and then there are none left to fight
but you are all I can see and think of on this night
Such beauty no mortal should ever possess
Such amazing strength and graceful finess
As I look in your eyes the earth stands still
I would not look away, even had I the will
As the sun sets, we walk away hand in hand
Away from the hate and strife of the land
Silk and steel are we two
You loving me, and me loving you
____________
Message received.
|
|
baklava
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Mostly harmless
|
|
posted February 02, 2008 12:21 AM |
|
Edited by baklava at 00:32, 02 Feb 2008.
|
I felt obliged to write a parody on Cepheus's story, but in the end it turned out more like the beginning of a completely new set of stories... But hey, the more the better, right?
The Evil Adventures of
BILLY-BOB
Part 1
Billy-Bob wasn’t a happy demon.
Demons weren’t supposed to be happy in the first place – happiness was a good thing, and demons were the embodiment of evil (this would’ve certainly caused much confusion if demons actually concerned themselves with existential philosophy).
But Billy-Bob was even unhappier. He had as much joy and everyday enthusiasm as an average roadkill.
He would spend hours on his balcony, scratching his goatee, smoking cigarettes (“the one good mortal invention”) and trying to live with his fate.
First off, his parents were evil even for demonic standards. To name a baby demon “Billy-Bob” was the equivalent of naming a baby American “Inghorzael the Soul Devourer”. As a demon, he couldn’t change his name – by the rules, it was as eternal as he was. To make things worse, since a demon is summoned whenever his true name is spoken, he appeared in Texas and various points in the Mid-West more than any creature, mortal or not, could possibly endure. Fortunately for him, rednecks proved to be quite superstitious about huge flaming dark entities appearing in the lawn whenever they call out for their nephew to milk the cow, so they mostly stopped naming people Billy-Bob.
Secondly, he lacked a kidney.
That was a tremendously humiliating lesson he learned back in the days he didn’t quite realize how the mortal world works. Namely, once in a while, the Boss sends a demon to wreak death and havoc across the Earth (no one really knows how these periods are chosen, but the most common theory is that it has something to do with God going to the bathroom). Demons, having very little to no imagination, usually take the shape of small, loud white men whom they hope will pass as average-looking (the most notable being old Arzaloth who managed to conquer almost entire Europe and kill dozens of millions of people despite the fact that he came as a tiny, nervous, black-haired man in a nation of generally tall, calm, light-haired people). When Billy-Bob’s turn came, following Arzaloth’s example, he prepared a few hypnotic evil racist speeches, devised a plan to go around factories and ensure people’s support, and picked a random spot to be sent to, following the “any mortal place is the same” logic.
He passed through a dimensional gate and ended up in a lovely enough neighbourhood in the USA, called Harlem.
The next thing he remembered was that he was naked, beaten and missing a kidney. Needless to say, his campaign of world domination ended there, so he had to return to the infernal plane to face the dark and unforgiving sense of humor of his fellow demons.
Hence the unhappiness.
Shortly afterwards, his father disappeared under mysterious circumstances (so to speak), and he inherited a nice evil fortress and a barony in the Pit of Despair where he spent his days plotting for revenge on mankind (and refraining from drinking too much liquid).
Someone – or something - knocked on the large door carved out of black marble and adorned with onyx that marked the entrance to Billy-Bob’s personal chambers. The small red “do not disturb” sign, with a decapitated stickman drawn upon it, trembled slightly between knocks.
Billy-Bob turned and hissed “Come in” in the kind of voice that would scare a nightmare.
The door opened and a lesser demon stepped in. He wasn’t as large, flamy and scary as Billy-Bob, but at least he had a cooler name – Zerynoch. Though most other demons (or at least those he couldn’t fry with fireballs) just called him Zeke. He currently worked as Billy-Bob’s counsellor. He was a rather incompetent creature, but Billy-Bob gave him the appointment just because they’ve known each other from earliest childhood. That doesn’t mean friendship, of course, it was simply that Zeke knew every Billy-Bob’s dirty little secret (like the one about Gerald, Billy-Bob’s pink plush bunny), so he was rather dangerous.
“Bob…” Zeke said.
“Zeke” Billy-Bob said patiently. “Are you familiar with the Latin alphabet?”
Zeke looked confused. “Pretty much. Why?”
“Because there is a red paper sign hanged on the door with an interesting message, saying, I quote, ‘do not disturb’.”
“I know, but this is important.”
“You also said ‘this is important’ when you came to tell me you discovered that dolphins are actually mammals, two months ago,” Billy-Bob said, as calm as possible.
“Well weren’t you surprised?”
“Yes. I was surprised with your lack of basic education.”
“Ah, I see. I lack basic education. I don’t lack a kidney, though,” Zeke stated a well known fact.
Billy-Bob sighed. He knew that was coming. His eternal curse. The sole reason he couldn’t outsmart a single demon even if he had all the wits in the Nine Circles. Demonic memory was eternal, so everyone remembered the kidney incident just at the right time to diminish any response Billy-Bob could possibly have.
Something laughed sinisterly from a sealed, marble sarcophagus in the corner of the room.
“Shut up, dad” Billy-Bob hissed. “…mean old bastard…” he added quietly, and turned to Zeke, a resigned look on his face. “Right. So what was the important thing?”
Zeke was ready. “Look what I found,” he said, and put a large, leather-clad book on the table. It seemed as old as time itself, and was inscribed with dark runes signifying pain, blood, suffering, Microsoft and other traditional symbols of evil.
“A book,” Billy-Bob stated, with a sort of expected disappointment that was so characteristic for him.
“Not just any book…” Zeke said.
“Right. A rather dusty book.”
Zeke glanced at him coldly. “It’s Lexicon Inferna.”
A small digression must be made here because of all readers who still remember a few things from their Latin lessons. As you may have noticed, ‘Lexicon Inferna’ isn’t really a gramatically correct term, but demons do not tend to pay much attention to grammar, especially in dead languages, as long as the phrase itself sounds cool. Several lawyers, doctors and catholic priests tried to complain about this, but it’s extremely hard to demand anything while you’re getting drowned in a pool of lava and stabbed by large red pitchforks.
Back to the story.
“The Hell’s rulebook? Where did you find THAT?”
“Accidentally ran into it in your library the other day,” Zeke said.
“I have a library?” Billy-Bob was confused.
“Well there’s a room with a bookshelf on the second floor.”
“Oh,” Billy-Bob remembered something. “That’s the waiting hall for the torture chamber. The books and magazines are there just for the customers to kill some time before their appointment.”
“Nevertheless, I found an interesting article. Look,” Zeke said and showed Billy-Bob a passage. Billy-Bob read it out loud.
“’If, under some event, a part of a demon remains in the realm of mortals, the demon hath the right to travel there and claim it; that shalt be done in secret and none of the mortals shalt know about his infernal nature – lest he is destroyed by the forces of matter and dimensional physics and other complicated scientific stuff. The demon himself shalt feel where his part is; for an immortal’s mind and all parts of body aren’t dividable, and they shalt always be together, until final judgment. ‘” Billy-Bob stared in disbelief. “So this basically means… I can return to the mortal world and get my kidney!”
“Passage 127, article 14,” the voice from the sarcophagus said.
“What?”
“That’s passage 127, article 14” the voice repeated.
“Wait… Dad… You actually knew this, but didn’t tell me throughout the years?” Billy-Bob frowned at the sarcophagus.
“You didn’t ask.”
“Yes I did, you vile old fart, I asked you about a hundred times if there is a way to get my kidney back, and you said that there isn’t!”
“Ah. Right. Well I guess I lied then.”
“If only you weren’t immortal, you infernal bastard, if only you weren’t immortal…”
“Uhm,” Zeke interrupted, “you should really prepare for the trip now.”
“Fine,” Billy-Bob said, calming himself down. “Sure. You aren’t going?”
“You’ve got my moral support. But there isn’t any part of me in the mortal realm… So I guess I’ll have to stay right here,” he said.
Billy-Bob smiled.
“First good news I’ve had in a while...”
____________
"Let me tell you what the blues
is. When you ain't got no
money,
you got the blues."
Howlin Wolf
|
| |
|
|
