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Along the Scar

Velynne slowly re-read her orders. She was to report to an orc, named Gruth Bloodhand, who guarded one of the many tiers of protection for Fairbreeze Village. The Dead Scar, so close by, was a constant menace to the locals. The constant stream of scourge wore at their defences. The Sindorei– “blood elves”– were losing ground to the tainted ground.

Even the capital was divided, with the training academy on one side, and the rulers on the other. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on December 10, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Very Last

“Captain, we have a transmission that’s coming up from a nearby planet!  The signal is weak, but it’s looping.  If we record it a few times, we could splice the video and audio feed-“

“Make it so.”

The communications officer looked at her commanding officer and nodded, her brows furrowed as she returned her gaze to the console and began to gather the samples required.  As she waited in her comfortable red seat, she tapped one of her red-painted nails against an empty part of the console.  Green eyes gazed listlessly at the reading screen. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 30, 2013 in Futuristic Fiction

 

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This Old Troll

As Galedia walked away, Fil’ul watched her go.  For someone so tiny, she certainly could hit hard– and heal hard, when needed.  The old troll chuckled, and watched as she looked back at him with one antenna-like eyebrow raised before she continued onward, into her home.

It was a long day.  They spent hours together in combat, with her alternating between hitting heavy and healing, while Fil’ul kept the enemies angry at himself.  Whenever she wasn’t riding his shoulders, she was pulling more enemies into the melee while occasionally shooting a healing spell in his direction to keep him up. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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The Sand Flea (Part X)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part IX).

“Hey, something’s ahead!” Evoxe’s voice was sudden, and woke Ask from his doze.  His head was somewhere soft, and the sun’s warmth felt nice on his skin.  He looked upward, and saw Korenila’s face.  He was resting his head against her chest, and she was leaning against the forward wall of the straw cart.  Beside him, Horse had her nose under his hand.

Korenila opened her eyes. “What is it, Evoxe?”

“I think it’s-” he trailed off momentarily before he continued, “It’s a house.  Nobody should be living this close to the Drop.” Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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The Sand Flea (Part IX)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part VIII).

Ask continued to run through the healers’ temple, desperately seeking someone who believed him.  His back began to burn with a dull ache. “Bandits are coming!” He pointed back, behind the temple. “They’re that way!”

Several scoffed at the panting goblin.

“Liar!”

“You’re for Njolr!”

“You’re just going to rob us blind!” The patients’ voices kept the priests from hearing, and as Ask tried to run towards a male priest that had fancier robes than the rest, a hand wrapped around his ankle, and a group of seven patients bustled him out the same door he entered through. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 1, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Sand Flea (Part VIII)

The nights were growing cooler, and Ask’s back almost didn’t hurt at all anymore.  Despite his recovery, Korenila insisted he should stay, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t mind taking orders from her.  She was kind.  That must have been why, he was sure.  He was given his freedom to wander the barnyard, however, and wander he did.

Horse was never far behind, and nobody seemed worried about Ask’s presence.  He expected people to avoid him, or to be rude to him.  Instead, the stable hands were polite and helpful, and several offered to help him saddle Horse.  He declined in the most polite way he knew, and a few laughed good-naturedly, while others frowned at him for his poor word choice. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on June 27, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Sand Flea (Part VII)

They called it ‘physical therapy’.  Ask called it stupid.  Korenila came into his room every day and oversaw him walking around the room.  She made him bend his body in weird ways that made the flesh on his back feel strange.  Under her instruction, he moved his arms, squatted, and moved side to side.  His cheeks burned each time, but she never gave him a day’s respite from those hour periods of ‘therapy’ unless the pain was too strong for him, which it was only rarely of late.

His back did stop hurting so much when he moved around or tried his secret exercises to try to lose his additional weight he’d picked up during his long period of bedrest.  He felt fat, like a human. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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