Gravity Null

Professor Omnirvious slammed his hand on the table angrily. “Float! You stupid cube.”

Bill stood by his side, scratching his head.

“You have lice or something Bill? What’s all this incessant scratching. It’s making my head itch.” Said Omnirvious. “You know what my mother would do to me when I scratched my head? Turpentine… I still have that smell stuck up my nostrils.”

“It helps me think Professor.” Said Bill lowering his arm.

“What if you enter gravity equals null?” Said Bill.

“That’s stupid.” Said the professor and punched it into the code. Then he compiled again and ran it. “It would only throw an erro…”

The cube began floating in mid air.

“Unbelievable.” Said the professor.

Bill smiled cockishly.

“Well I still did most of the work, you only had that little enlightenment, I would have figured it out, but you did save me some time Bill, so congrats.”

“Professor it works!” Said Bill his eyes widening. “It’s amazing!”

“Well Bill, I had no doubt I would succeed, but this is only the first step. Now we have the job of making a device that disables it remotely.” Said Omnirvious.

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Koldrah Orc Leader

That sweet and salty scent of summer, only to be smelt near the sea, was working it’s magic on this land loving orc named Koldrah. His eyes lit as he surveyed moonlit sparkling water that stretched forever beyond the sleeping, unsuspecting human village at its shore. Behind him were his twenty three axe wielding warriors, all crazed with hunger.

 

“Now is the time for the sacrifice.” Said Koldrah. “Bring Azguard to the pit.” This ceremony always awoke a conflict inside him. For its cowardly nature of killing an innocent without giving him the right to fight for his life on one hand. But on the other hand he could remember standing by his father Koldrahd and his grandfather Koldrah. Their eyes would light up as their God, Kahul The Punisher, would reward them with power.

 

He walked into the enormous pit dug by the twenty three warriors to hide the fire from the enemy. Every orc warrior he passed slammed the dragonbone armor protecting his chest, then touched two fingers to forehead, lowering their head in salute, they began a monotonous chant, praising Kahul.

 

A few steps from the pyre, stood Takdor the human shaman. Covered in his long black hood from head to foot, holding his staff. Koldrah examined the staff again. It was made of twisted Kylreen steel twice forged and had three red gemstones symbolizing the three Govish stones of power. Only one of those gems now lit up. Koldrah knew this to be a sign of the closeness of a Govish.

 

“My spy was correct.” Said Takdor pointing to the glowing gem. His frightening orange eyes shone gleaming even from under that thick hood. Each pupil was shaped as an orange line stretched over the whole eye ball. “The stone is in the village.” He Said.

 

Koldrah hated the human shaman, who always made him do things that he himself deemed evil. But he had to admit that much of the power he had gained was due to those evil deeds. “It seems so.” Said Koldrah. It would have been better if the spy could also warn them of the guards spread around the village. But of course Takdor’s spies only brought the information they were paid to bring.

 

Azguard tied down to the pyre, was silent. Koldrah could see the cuts on his neck that had expertly cut his vocal chords without killing him. He gurgled when he saw Koldrah approach, his eyes widening in fear. His whole body beginning to shake. Koldrah could feel the waves of fear that flowed out of Azguard uncontrollably washing his soul before the ceremony.

 

Azguard had fought fairly well for a novice, taking down Farroth son of Farrot the fearless. He shouted again and again for Yollk Hammer Born his God, but Yollk did not answer. When he was finally subdued as his leg was cut almost clean off. He cried a female name, ‘Daria or Aria was it?’ Koldrah could not remember. “It’s no use asking you the name of your lady now is it?” Said Koldrah. The mention of her brought pain into Azguard’s soft human eyes. “No matter. She will join you soon when we take the village.”

 

It had taken all of Koldrah’s strength and leadership to hold Farrot The Fearless back from slaying Azguard. Koldrah could now see Farrot sitting at the edge of the pit with his back to the ceremony. He refused to participate, wanting his chance for revenge. Koldrah would have to deal with this later.

 

Takdor placed his hand on Azguard’s forehead. “Fear Kahul and praise him. For your God Yollk has fallen before him as well.” Said Takdor the shaman, as he picked up the light stone and lit the pyre. His orange pupils shone now with greater force.

 

Koldrah Stood and watched as the prisoner gurgled and squirmed in the magical smokeless silver flame that consumed him. When only ash was left, the flame spelt a Kooprah which he committed to memory. He would use that Kooprah in his next fight and then it would be his. He wondered excitedly what would be its power. Touching the flame it climbed up his arm and flowed into his chest. The power that his ancestors had enjoyed was his.

The Meeting At The Inn 1st subjective

This is an exercise in writing 1st subjective

 

I, Ogmar Beardstrong of the South Gurum Dwarves, stood amongst these ale stinking humans who filled up the village inn. ‘A seaweed in a forest, many miles from the Gardom Sea. impossible!’ I could not stop thinking on the strangeness of this fact. It made the words of young Jack Hamstrung, the village fool ring true. ‘A seafaring man, dragging a big bleeding bag through the forest late at night. I looked through the window and the sun’s first rays just began to show through the dense leaves.

 

“It must have been the body!” Said Miss Grishwem. Tooting at the top of her voice and looking around the small crowd in that crowded inn of the Green Leaf for support of her claim. “Poor Mr. Dafferd.” She lamented.

 

 

I doubted her grief knowing full well the neighbours quarrels these two had almost every other day. I placed my hand gently on her shoulder in order to guide her back to her seat. “Let’s not jump at such conclusions.” I Said. “The blood on the leaves was animal’s blood. Not man nor dwarf bled that blood. Mr. Dafferd’s body has not been found yet.” That I knew for a fact since I had consulted with a grey wolf. He told me it was the blood of a chicken.

 

 

Miss Grishwem bounced up from her chair tooting again at the top of her long neck sounding like a frightened chicken. I tried to calm her down by placing her back into her seat but she resisted making it all very comical for the other villagers who laughed heartily. “Let go of my shoulder foul peck!” Said Miss Grishwem.

 

I could feel my heart quench. ‘So there it is, the ugly head of racism, that blind old snake.’ thought I, feeling very shocked and surprised. After all I had done for these people’s safety. ‘But surely someone will quite this old bat down.’ I looked around searching for an ally and found only averted eyes. I felt gutted, as if punched in the stomach. She eventually sat down, averting her eyes as well. I stormed out of the inn feeling betrayed and alone and slamming the door behind me.

 

I walked a few steps into the forest and heard a loud hubbub of voices from behind me. I knew Miss Grishwem was being berated for her racist words. I was now living in the village for five years. I knew very well how the people of the village appreciated my protection and loved me. After all just last week I was given a great feast in my honor. Feeling the fool I turned around heading back to the inn door.

 

Miss Grishwem spoke as I listened from outside. “Why couldn’t they send a human?! What with our little girls walking around all day. And now this murder! I tell you he did it! Not some seafaring human stranger. You all know it. A man would not murder his own. Let’s vote! Let’s vote and see what you think. Who thinks this peck is the murderer?”

 

I could not believe my own dwarven ears. I felt my blood rise up filling my head with rage. My eyes burned as I unconsciously stepped into the inn. Placing my hand on my old hammer handle.

 

 

Miss Grishwem looked around pleased, until her eyes fell on me, standing furious at the inn’s entrance, then her expression turned to fear.

 

The meeting at the inn 3rd Omniscient

This is an exercise in writing third person omniscient

 

Life turns and twists at its edges, folding in until no light can be seen, no sound can be heard. Light flows through the leaves of green reaching the brown grey carpet of cracked old branches and seaweed. But how did seaweed get here if not off the boot of the most unpleasant of seafaring men. Young Jack Hamstrung, who was usually named the village fool, always making up silly stories, had seen him travel through his forest late at night dragging a big bleeding bag through the leaves.

 

“It must have been the body!” Said Miss Grishwem. Tooting at the top of her voice and looking around the small crowd in that crowded inn of the Green Leaf for support of her claim. “Poor Mr. Dafferd.” She lamented.

 

Ogmar Beardstrong the dwarf ranger put his hand on her shoulder patting it lightly and then pushing her down to her seat. “Let’s not jump at such conclusions.” Said Ogmar. “The blood on the leaves was animal’s blood. Not man nor dwarf bled that blood. Mr. Dafferd’s body has not been found yet.”

 

Miss Grishwem bounced up from her chair tooting again at the top of her long neck sounding like a frightened chicken. Ogmar tried to push her back into her seat but she resisted making it all very comical for the other villagers who laughed heartily. “Let go of my shoulder foul peck!” Said Miss Grishwem.

 

The crowd all hushed down not wanting to offend the old foul tempered ranger. Miss Grishwem realizing her error, put a hand to her own gaping mouth and took her seat. Ogmar scanned the human villagers angrily, searching for any sign of mirth, but could find none. On the other hand no one stood up for him against Miss Grishwem’s hurtful words. He stormed out the door angrily, making it bang loud enough on the way out.

 

Toben the middle aged, red ale nosed, ballding village headman stood up slowly and spoke even more slowly, lingering on every word. “You went too far Grishwem. You know how sensitive the ranger is about his heritage.” Said Toben.

 

Miss Grishwem hrmpfd loudly and immediately began tooting and extending her long neck. “You men are a bunch of cowards. You think the same as me! None of us wants a dwarf guarding this village.” Said Miss Grishwem.

 

A hubbub of voices began speaking at once. Some for and some against. Poor Toben raising his hands tried to calm down the bustling crowd. “Now now.” Said Toben, barely being heard.

 

Miss Grishwem continued. “Why couldn’t they send a human?! What with our little girls walking around all day. And now this murder! I tell you he did it! Not some sea faring human stranger. You all know it. A man would not murder his own. Let’s vote! Let’s vote and see what you think. Who thinks this peck is the murderer?” She looked around for support and found none. But then Gavin Hellstrom, the young bookkeeper, raised his hand up on the far end of the inn. Then another and another until many hands were raised.

 

 

Miss Grishwem looked around pleased, until her eyes fell on the old dwarf standing furious at the inn’s entrance. Then her expression turned to fear.

 

The fish

“Slice that fish are you a coward?” His uncle looked at him in a disregarding manner. 
The boy looked at the fish and stuck the point of the knife at it’s soft belly. A cold sweat began behind his ears followed by great tension that swarmed from his gentle heart and filled his head. How could he cut flesh like that.
His uncle grabbed the fish and put it under the stump that was left of his right arm, cut off in battle. He swept the knife out of the child’s hand and gutted the fish remorselessly. Pulling out his innards and throwing them to the dogs who fought over them snapping at each other.
The boy wanting to prove he was a man picked up the next fish. “Let me gut this one please Uncle.” Said the boy.
“I have no time for this. I will clean them. Go play with your sisters” His uncle again grabbed the fish from his hand and gutted it quickly.
The boy felt smaller than ever. He hated his uncle. He turned towards the other children playing a stupid children’s games and froze. He grabbed another fish and picked it up.
“Uncle, let me help with the fish I won’t be afraid.” Said the boy. He took the knife from his uncle’s hand and stabbed it in the fishes soft stomach. The knife went straight through. A feeling of nausea mixed with pride flooded the boys body. He cut more and more of the fish feeling lighter and lighter with every cut. Then he stuck his small fingers in the fishes soft insides, a feeling of disgust creeping up his throat, he grabbed as much as he could and pulled them out forcefully tossing them on the ground, letting out a big sigh of relief. He looked up at his uncle expecting pride but saw no emotion whatsoever.
“Finish the rest of these and bring them to the cook.” Said his uncle and grabbed his ale mug going to sit with the men.
The boy looked at the big amount of fish left and felt regret. He would much rather spend this time playing with the other kids.

Apstrum 

Tied to two posts, hands outstretched with an enchanted rope that can only be cut by a Mythril knife forged with dragon fire in the dwarven cities. Apstrum was shy of 25 and after 10 years of magic study in Gautmerry towers. The only thing keeping him from escaping was that damned enchanted rope disabling his magic.

 

After adventuring with a group for a year, the group broke up in the worst possible way. Apstrum and Thoius both fell in love with Dieardra. Dieardra chose Thoius and Apstrum was heart broken believing her choice made due to him being only Half Elven when Thoius was pure Sondern Elf.

 

Wandering alone and heartbroken, he was hired by the Goblins to go spy on the Humans in the caves and get vital information. Being heartbroken and basically starving he agreed to take this mission, after Cluivnolk the Goblin promised that they would not use the information to hurt the Humans.

 

Later he got himself hired by the Koekeg to aid their battle against the Goblins. After his stomach was full he realized what a mistake he had made in dealing with the Goblins and decided to welch on his agreement with them (Although he did keep the coins they had paid him).

 

After his first watch backing up the Koekeg warriors and a bloody battle that left him emotionally scarred and afraid, he tried to escape. “Forgetting” to return the years pay that was given to him up front.

 

Now awaiting his judgment which would not be short of losing a limb, his only light was Tat Fisc. She snuck into his chamber almost every day asking questions of the outside world and his adventures. Although she did call him “Traitor.” And “Coward” instead of using his real name, strengthening what he felt about himself. He still enjoyed her presence, with him being so lonely. And when she came close leaning on him and whispering in his ear so the guards outside the room wouldn’t know she was there, he enjoyed the warmth of her body and the smell of her hair.

Tat Fisc

Tat’s parents have seen the snow come 17 times since her birth on the plains of Alun. She was born when the Koekag fled the planes. The Goblin Horde Massacring them as they ran. Her name was given in accordance with this date meaning small revenge. The great priestess of Koek gave it to her seeing the glowing orange mark that marred the baby’s left cheek.  The priestess prophesied that she is the Kogether as was written in the ancients scribe and will lead them back to their homeland.

 

Her skin is white from cave life and her body thin from lack of food. Black curls jump gayly atop her head and her eyes make others feel joy inside. She wears leather of the Anticuog to keep her warm. You will never find her without her spear which was given to her at birth. The Abcadaver, Hope of the frozen hells. She nicknamed it Abic.

 

When she found out about her birth, the prophecy and the terrible birthmark on her left cheek, she felt angry. It made her different from the other kids and being different was never a good thing in a small society. Her way of dealing with the abuse she got was through pranks and laughter. But always inside the hate kept burning and she would secretly plan her revenge on the abusers.

 

Her dream is to see the outside world. Out of these miserable dusky caves. But her parents would never allow it. To see a tree or even a Goblin! That would be the day.