GeldrinHor

We wake to a smile of sunshine,

Our hearts are light and gay,

But the bottom of a multi-paned wall,

Defenstrated our joyous spray.

We wish that wisdom came early,

For the Elders can't always admit,

The foolish come home from a ball game,

Then to others, less talented, submit!

Oh to be one with Nature, our souls,

Have given great harmony bound,

But to trees that have grown tall and powerful,

We hear nary a whisper of sound.

_____________

pickled : motor scooter : Hopscotch

As the 'celery" is snapped and chopped and added to the roiling boil of stew upon the ancient, rickety 'propane' stove. The Elder is asking the Council to decide on a punishment for Garl, whose improper actions with the Whittenden Clan Head's eldest daughter. It seems he spent many days (or perhaps nights is more appropriate) following and stalking the young woman. He would likely have continued his misbehavior, had he not been caught, red-handed, peering in her 'window pane' very early one morning, apparently watching her sleep.

The Council is full of men with rumbling stomachs, and the Elder decides to wait to continue the meeting until the stew is finished and doled out to each in his or her turn, according to rank within the Village.

dollop beer influential

I must confess,

to my own distress,

the fickleness

of Fate and Muse and Karma,

Leave me little time for seeking my own ends

This is a wonderful poem with an ancient, child-like propensity to prose. It is both whimsical, yet totally serious (much like a child's desire to share something with a parent).

Delicious sense of fun. MAWR!

It is a good start, inviting the reader along on the journey, and expanding as the story grows. Please, do continue!

And here I return again, more than 2 years after the last posts, to reestablish my links to you fine folk. I still play Neverwinter Nights (every Sunday evening from 6 pm pacific to whenever we get done, usually 10 pm). I am also still writing, tho I am on a different machine now and the writings have taken up more Word/WordPad space. I'll get it figured out.

At age 50, I've learned that sometimes my sense of time can get skewed. And sometimes. . . Wayyyyyyyy skewed. I have gone back and doen some rewrites and rearranged my chapters, so am still under 10 chapters fleshed out. But I AM still writing...just my job keeps me a touch busier than I had originally assumed it would and my gaming occupies more of my attention. Well, all that and Facebook too. LOL. You may find Kikuyu Black Paws there. She got her first book printed, published and released finally.

I'll let her know the Pen is still alive and send her this way.

Just updating folk. My heart and soul to you, my friends.

The creaking of timbers above his head were likely the first sign that the old man had overslept. Since he could not recall the last time he'd heard THAT particular timber to be groaning at all. As his eye cracked open, he realized he was also feeling a bit of something brushing lightly upon his brow, like powder being sprinkled, ever sparingly, upon the fertile earth. "Where the bloody hell did THAT thopught come from?" and, Up the old man popped. "What? Where am I? What ARE those younglings doing upstairs to cause such a ruckus?"

As his eyes come more into focus, he can see small wavelets of dust falling from the ceiling, rhythmically, as if a large hammer or maul was in use on the floor directly above his suite in the Pen.

As another puff of dust settles upon the grayed curls atop his head, the upset mage springs from his bed and approaches the mirror set up on the far wall. Tapping systematically, a short code is instilled upon the frame, and suddenly a face appears in the center of the Mirror. The lazy dragon appears half asleep himself as GeldrinHor bellows out, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be Tech Support? Tech this....what in blazes is going ON above my suite?" At this, the dragon's eye snaps wide, his earlier hazed look gone as if it never existed, and his pupil shrinking to a pinpoint. "Old man, what ARE you blathering on about?" As this leaves the Dragon's lips, another annoying puff of dust falls upon the head of GH's bed and the dragon spies it out as it lands softly upon the recently vacated pillow. "Can *I* get a clean up crew here toot sweet? I am NOT gonna be held responsible for those darn kids upstairs tearing apart ANOTHER suite with their amorous gymnastics. Is THAT clear?"

By now the Dragon is chuckling, small streams of sooty smoke escaping the confines of his large, reptilian nostrils. "Geld...get a hold of yourself man. Relax, we'll have someone up there in a few minutes. Geez, some Wizards surely wake up on the wrong side of the Keep, don't they?"

At that, the mirror darkens and GeldrinHor is stuck looking at his own homely, crestfallen face. Moments pass before he recalls his invisible Servant spell and sets it to cleaning his bed off.

The old man wanders from room to room, preparing himself for yet another crazy day when a bird uncerimoniously crashes into his closed window, falling abruptly to the ledge, a small "W" branded to the side of his head. Typical of Wyvern to send his reply via carrier pigeon when a simple Mirror Call could have sufficed, and would also have been more timely. Alas, the old Dragon liked to do things in his own fashion, and, as was ABUNDANTLY clear, in his own sweet time as well.

As the window sash was thrown, the darn bird fell OFF the ledge, rolled down the side of the building past the second floor balcony, missing the rail by mere inches, and falling the additional 11 feet to the floor of a very leaf strewn grounds of the Keep itself.

At finally noticing this, GH mused why the maintenance crew had gone slacking...why WERE there leaves all over the inner courtyard of the Keep? And where DID that darn bird go to? Where is everyone else? Does anyone else smell oatmeal cookies?

.

.

.

The real world has a way of doing terrible things to writers -- hence the communities in which they reside often suffer absence when the world gets tough. But we always come back with new things to say because of it.

 

Boy, is THAT statement ever appropriate. Or, in my case. it COULD simply be old age!

I am doing a little various writing (I am now a Yahoo Contributing writer too) and I am still playing my games cuz I'm a mean old cuss and it's what I like! As I've noted before...I may not always have something to say, but I do enjoy being a "fan" of others' word smithing abilities!

Besides...today is my birthday and I am just one step from the Half Century mark!

Oh Jeez...am *I* ever out of touch.....RL Asprin is gone???? Dang man!

OK...here's life in a nutshell for me, of late.

Laurell K. Hamilton.....get her books. If you are at ALL interested in vampire based novels, you have GOT to read her Anita Blake - Vampire Hunter novels.

Back to reading Stephen King....currently From a Buick 8 is in my van to read while working. (I mean before work and during my lunch break of course....who, me read while driving??? NEVER!)

I'm still no further along than I was last month....brain cramps are causing MASSIVE writer's block on my novel, therefore I had to just take some time away from it. Instead, I play video games, drive all over creation, and drink massive quantities of coffee.

And by the way.....WHO in the blazes keeps limiting my days to just 24 hours.....that simply will not do, I MUST have more hours in order to cram in all the things I MUST do!

Greetings again, Brothers and Sisters of the Pen.

It has been a considerably long time since I have posted here, tho I do, even to this day, stop in for a read occasionally. I am not entirely sure who is still around, but I hope to those who have passed beyond, good life and good living. To those of you still occupying these halls, I say hello again.

I took up a new (old) game about 2 years back, called Neverwinter Nights. Fun game, and it offers online multi-player games called Persistent Worlds. For any of you unfamiliar with the game, it is based on D&D/AD&D rule set 3.5/4. The particular PW I play on is World of Greyhawk. It includes D&D rules mostly, tho it takes into consideration the various newer classes of AD&D, including the Prestige Classes. Lots of fun, especially for me, as the game itself was quite inexpensive, and playing online is free.

Anyway...My story/novel is growing still. I have added new characters to it, and yes, I AM still using the YWriter software from SpaceJock software.

The outline is fairly close to my goal for the book, tho, to be honest, I haven't really gotten more than about 8 chapters fleshed out. I figured, when I started my little novel Idea that it was going to be a 5 year mission. With the pace I set, it may even take a bit longer than that. We'll see.

Anyway....I just wanted to let folks know I AM still alive and I am reading here at the Pen.

Hope everyone is doing well.

TTYL

GH

I'm still a Calculating Mage myself, but like Panther, I got your back, Regel

~Characters~

GeldrinHor (GodHammer)

Newbian Princess

Asphodel

A long list to follow as I work on my novel.

time

"A new entry on the playlist" quips the destitute DJ,

"Rockin your Sox off, by the Plastics"

Sitting back in his crackerbox booth, Josh really lets one rip, as his insides recall the great flaming burrito he had for lunch. Too tired, from all his restless wanderings the last few nights, he slips back in his chair a little too far and begins to tip over, reaching out for anything he flips on his mike just in time for the whole west side of town to hear him declare...."Oh Shit!" followed by a loud crashing sound. Then, due to dislodging the record he had been playing, that vocalization is immediately followed by nearly 6 minutes of dead air as Josh is out cold on the floor and under the desk in his micro-booth. Finally, one of the oncoming members of the morning zoo walks into the station, hears the dead calm quiet going out over the airwaves and rushes into the booth just in time to smack Josh in the head as he was coming to.

**THUD** arghhhhhhhh....is the last sound that goes out over the airwaves before Josh comes to the realization that he is just another unemployed radio personality in a world gone wrong.

--"There's NO place like Burbank"--

Veri!!!!

Greets Girly.....how's tricks?

Don't let these simple folks fool ya with their banter, this old dwarf remembers QUITE well. Ahhh....to see my old Kaladim home once again!

Welcome to the Pen! Feel free to scribble any old thing on the walls....they wash off...

Watch out for Wyvern....he's a used car salesman at heart!

Welcome aboard, nonetheless!

Hugs to you and yours!

Goodness me, now THAT caused a chuckle....even if strange in SO many ways.

Thanks Wyvern, for a bit of off-the-cuff humor and entertainment.

Orion

Woman

Wail to the desert a Dirge of Droughts,

scream to the sun, "come blast my hide",

clear your own thoughts of all doubts,

Call to the ocean for the Queen has died.

"Where shall I go now" your baked mind crows,

"It's Hell on Earth, and Purgatory's nigh"

jump into heaven 'fore the hot wind blows,

Down to the depths where the demons die.

Cool blue emotions, soothing the burns,

love wraps your heart in a silk cocoon.

wrapped in a blanket as Moonlights mourns,

saved by the breath of Nature's boon.

hmmm

-Yo Ho Ho, and a bottle of Rum- this is the line

Have at it, me Hearties! Avast ye, scurvy Dogs!

Madlib Formula #952 Purple - 'Cadlib'

1) [A Vehicle] a seatless bicycle

2) [Verb, Past Tense] swallowed

3) [Plural Noun] the "twins"

4) [Verb, Past Tense] erected

5) [Adjective Ending in “-like”] cone-like

6) [A Number] two

7) [Plural Noun] Barbii Twins

[Feature of Said Plural Noun (7)] DDD/EEE Cups

9) [Article of Clothing] G-string

10) [Adverb] wholly

11) [Adjective] HUMONGOUS

12) [A Hair Accessory] Aquanet

13) [Adjective] perfect

14) [Part of Body] lips

15) [An Artifact] a brick outhouse

16) [Noun] harem

17) [Plural Noun] missiles

18) [superlative Adjective (i.e longest, lowest, etc.)] wettest

19) [Formal Title for a Person] Porn Queens

20) [Adjective Ending in “-like”] godess-like

Hey, Wyv.....Cad enough for YOU?

The old man snickers into his hands as he hides his face in shame around all the lovely ladies of the Pen

mate

"I must not leave now" exclaimed Neko-girl, her long, dark hair cascading over her slender shoulders, "Kekami-sama would have hunters on my trail within an hour". The young woman, youngest child of the local Shogun, knew that her fathers' ire was really the least of her worries. Bowing her head, tightly wrapped in her ornamental robes, she walked back over to the tray to deliver Sake to her guests.

One simply had to look out the side window to see a great number of Samurai about the grounds. No, she would not be able to leave unseen easily.

As Akira stepped onto the grand porch, reaching forward to clutch the door edge, a katana flashed before his hand. Akira looked up into the deep, liquid, yet dead eyes of the largest of Kekami's guardians, Wotomi Hakira. Wotomi had been a guard of the household for nearly 25 years now, and his sword was well known as the sharpest on the entire northern end of the Island.

lambasted

archives

disuaded

faeryfolk

WooHoo,

Thankee Peri....sweet to find this. I had heard about a much earlier version of it a few years back, but never took the time to follow it up.

I LIKE this.

Almost done downloading now.

The duration is 16,501 days, 19 hours, 33 minutes and 6 seconds

Or 45 years, 2 months, 6 days, 19 hours, 33 minutes, 6 seconds

Alternative time units

16,501 days, 19 hours, 33 minutes and 6 seconds can be converted to one of these units:

• 1,425,756,786 seconds
• 23,762,613 minutes (rounded down)
• 396,043 hours (rounded down)
• 2357 weeks (rounded down)

Watching the sun rise slowly over the coruscating landscape, the Ranger noted a small asymmetric shape in the distance. As he began the morning lope towards the horizon, he could not help but to take heed of the warnings he'd received the day before. The badlands had proven, in the past, to be nearly anathema to most of his race, though most of the old world knew his kind to be hardiest of the old races.

As his legs began to loosen and his strides stretched and became more fluid, his mind continued to gnaw on the warnings given by the Elders of the last village. His knowledge of the terrain of this part of the world was so very nearly complete as to be thought the architect of his surroundings. But then, he also knew that most of the folk in this part of the world were so caught up in the sublime joys of their latest religion, they had begun to forget the old ways. He would have to start teaching them, once again taking on a new mantle of authority. But they must learn, they must remember....

Dogma

Calculating

Enthusiasm

Deference