The Big Pointy One

Just as Robby rushed at Belshayou, the tiniest of feet scampered across the stone ground. Deleo had shifted into a mouse in the chance that'd he'd sneak by the mighty blue unnoticed so he could spring a suprise attack on they party's occupied foe. He had wished he could manage some sort of healing spell for Kokuryuu, but he couldn't even muster a cantrip that'd be useful in that area. Rushing to the lip of the ledge which Belshayou was currently perched, Deleo suddenly got an isidious idea for his attack. He leapt into the air, his tiny body carrying into the wind. He let himself plummet for a quick moment and then he reverted back to his dragon form, feet below the entrance to the cave. Sucking in as much air as he could, and gathering his draconic acid from the pits of his stomach, Deleo hurled a large burst of acid straight at the ledge beneath the blue dragon, hoping that if nothing else, he could knock their mighty foe off-balance...

Rocoss looked behind him as Aidan cleaved the pit lord in half with astonishing strength, then collapse unconscious to the ground. He turned Roxxia's attention the young human. The twins nodded at each other, then went to pick up young Aidan. The pit lord, however, wasn't satisfied with such an easy defeat and lurched towards the trio. Rocoss jumped in surprise more than fear, and quickly severed the thing's torso and hacked at it until it moved no more. Satisfied, the twins, Aidan in tow, headed to the east. So it was that the first chapter of Aidan's story came to a close. The demon attacks slowed to a halt once the commanding aura of the pit lord dissipated. The demons, with no one to control them disbanded and went wild upon the land, and eventually were all but completely destroyed by the Leiv'at wandering militia. That isn't to say that they had been completely vanquished, it just happenned for now, their time on this world was at a temporary end; a stasis. The twins took Aidan to the wooded nation of Syvaellasori, the land of the elves. Instead of heading straight to the capitol as they had done on their previous journey, Rocoss and Roxxia instead headed to the newest village, Souloak. It was a settlement for the wood elves that had survived the first attack in the Southern Woods. Although many elven warriors had died that fateful day, many civilians had made it away unscathed thanks to the wisdom of one Ailron Silverbranch. (OOC: I'll leave it there for now... instinct is telling me to stop...)

One more side-note... it seems my roomie is delaying in the whole 'taking his comp with him thing' so I'll be around as often as possible until he does so... Sorry to jerk everyone around like this, I know it isn't cool -.-

Things I'd like to say to you... If I could find that one pure moment when I've swallowed all my fears If for only a few fleeting seconds and composed myself enough to say all the things I've wanted to say for so long now, this is what they'd be... First I'd give you an apology, for not being so bright; even though there's an anthology of poetry I could write It wouldn't make a difference, it wouldn't mean a thing It kinda doesn't make any sense, how this is happenning Your words have fallen on my deaf ears, to stubborn to hold to your blatant honesty, I fall to fears, my routine is getting old. I keep lying to myself, thinking of another way I keep hurting myself, hoping for that one day... When everything else would disappear, and all could be right When I could share my love with you, my dear all through the night The world wouldn't seem such a bleak place; it never does with you One look could cure this sad and broken face, it always does with you. Alas, but the truth has surfaced, I know the way it has to be Yes, I've found my purpose, it's friends for you and me. But instead, I'll choke, living as this joke, giving up on my hope, until you pick up the phone, and I splurt and stutter, words escape my lips, and I'm back where I started. I'm sorry.

Stick looks at Yui, then at Falcon, blinks, then exclaims: "How devious!" meeps, and runs for the hills... (Gah, pointless post...)

As always, kind words are appreciated. Everyone around here always seems to have a way of making me feel special, which happens to be one of those things I kind of need every now and then. I appreciate it more than words can say ^.^ Also as always, I find that haste in my words leads to me being silly. I think I have to retract the part about my path as a writer getting narrower, and replace it with some common sense. Basically, I'm looking at it like this right now. Although I've come to realise that yes indeed, I do have some talent as a writer, if I may be so bold as to say so. People, as (thankfully) shown above, seem to enjoy my writing, which means a lot to me. A whole lot. However, I've also kind of realised we all have limits, and I think mine end at these boards. In other words, I don't think you'll be seeing any books written by Tyler Polishak sitting in any bookstores, ever. Ultimately, that *was* my plan all along, to improve my skills as an author here, but I think I've come to realise my potential, and that's just not in me. And that's fine; I enjoy writing for fun, and as a hobby, and I'll probably continue to do so until I get completely tired of it. It just seems to me that it's a rare occassion when I can actually pull some decent stuff off. And then, when I do, I get burned out for days, weeks or even months on end before I can write anything again. I think I'm *still* burned out, poetry-wise, because although I have more inspiration than I can handle, I just can't get any words down. If it's here, I'll close the window before I finish a line, and I've stopped trying to write poems on paper anymore. But that's the way it goes, and I'm fine with that. I'd rather know my limits now, then go on with false ideals that would someday unravel around me; perhaps when I've dedicated too much to it, and wasted my time. Or something like that. So in other words, don't worry about me; like I said, I'll still post around here, just not as often, I'm afraid. Everyone's kind words are very special to me, but they are not necessary ^.^ I'm stubborn like a mule, and I'm good at accepting my reality as it is. I'm taking life as it comes, and for the most part, I'm happy. Though things often seem down for myself, I always find the resolve to make it through. I doubt I could do it without you guys (or my real-life friends and family as well) so, thanks. (I think I contradicted myself or something, but meh. Heh.) *Stick bows ever-so-humbly and quietly backs out.*

Yeah, just to let anyone/everyone know, as it is, my roomie with a computer is moving out, so my 'net connection will be rendered useless... I'll be at my parents' every sunday, so I'll be posting once a week, obviously. That is, when they get their new comp. (The old one got fried. Yay!) Of course, even then, I don't know how much posting I'll be doing... I have a feeling my path as a writer is getting narrower as I go, so we'll see what happens. Regardless, I'll still hang around as often as possible, if nothing else but to annoy everyone

Gah, I hate puns, but alas... A bear is sitting at the bar, and the bartender asks him what he wants. The bear goes "I'll have a..." and thinks for a moment "...beer." The bartender looks at him curiously as he grabs the bear his beer, the says "Why the long pause?" The bear looks at the bartender, shrugs, and says, "Oh, I was born with them." I'm sure I know more, but I can't seem to remember any right now. ps. Jonathan, I'm not sure, but I think it involves a *lot* of free time

Aha, happy 20th Wyv ^.^ ...I'd try throwing you a party, but that didn't really catch on last year, so instead, have a big bag of geld! *Stick drops a heavy, clinking bag of geld on the floor in front of Wyv, smiles and bounces off to the punchbowl*

Aha! So perhaps *I* didn't want to be a haiku after all... gwahahaha...

Hrm, I better be a haiku, or someone's in trouble. I am, of course, none other than blank verse. I don't know where I'm going, yes, quite right; And when I get there (if I ever do) I might not recognise it. So? Your point? Why should I have a destination set? I'm relatively happy as I am, And wouldn't want to be forever aimed Towards some future path or special goal. It's not to do with laziness, as such. It's just that one the whole I'd rather not Be bothered - so I drift contentedly; An underrated way of life, I find. What Poetry Form Are You? Curses! ...but I think... that...fits...? Eh, yeah, actually, that hits right on the button ^.^

Yeah, chicken soup! What you gotta realise here, is that there's lots of ways to make chicken soup. There's all your various pre-made soups (lipton's, campbell's, chunky, to name a few) which aren't too bad on their own merit. I particularly like adding soy sauce and pepper to lipton's. And of course, there's restaurant soups. And homemade soups. Chicken or turkey and rice is the best soup. Period. (in my opinion, anyways... ha-ha~!)

Well, whether or not here is the place for debate, I personall don't like debating that often, because, well, I'm not that informed. I like to think that's an important part of debate, you know. To know facts. Some stuff is all opinion, but a majority of it is good to have some sort of research done to back yourself up. Meh. Of course, I'm always up for throwing in my two cents if there's any debate going in say, the irc chat. Hehehe.

Seeming to drip off a tree, Stick appears on the road in front of Vincent, who is still looking as if he's about to tear someone apart. Seeing Stick, he blinks blankly, then goes to start his van. "Wait!" Stick says. Vincent simply stares at Stick again. In a very Schwartzenagger-ish (sp?) voice, Stick says to Vincent, "Come with me if you want to live?" which is responded to with a weary "Huh?" from Vincent who suddenly just doesn't care what happens right now, and lets himself be dragged by Stick. Still grumpy however, he crosses his arms in a half-angry/half-depressed pout as Stick blazes towards The Pen. Whenever Vincent tries to bring up a point, Stick simply makes the 'shush' motion with his free hand. Of course, these are all met with evil glares, which Stick pays no heed. About an hour later, they finally make it to the keep, where Stick halts his frantic pace. Vincent looks up to Stick, and yet again tries to ask what's going on. Stick replies with yet another 'shush' motion, but Vincent has had enough and bites Stick's finger. "Ow!" says Stick as he sucks on his bitten finger in some sort of weak motion to heal it. "Fine, I'm sorry for the brevity, but I've got a plan for you!" "Huh?" says the now more confused than angry Vincent. "Your plot, I have a plan for it." Intrigued now, Vincent cocks his head a bit to the side, "Oh? I'm listening." "Well..." Stick procedes to pull out a stack of papers that Vincent can't help but feel are familiar. The tall warrior continues to shuffle through the sheets, sending papers flying everywhere. "Aha!" he exclaims, as he finds what he was looking for. "I quote: Page: Member who is still growing, developing, promoting, and proving their worth to the Pen. " Vincent blinks. "Yeah, that's out of The Codex, everyone knows that, what's it have to do with any sort of clever plot?" Stick shrugs. "I don't know, but I think I have an idea. We'll have to make a few stops around the keep, but I think I have a few ideas." Vincent also shrugs. "Fine, lead the way, Sticky!" Intrigued as to why Stick suddenly seems so intent on helping him, Vincent feels like he has no choice but to follow the tall man. First, Stick leads Vincent to one of Tzimfemme's many labratories, and 'borrows' a few potions. "Uhm, isn't stealing wrong?" asks Vincent, who doesn't feel like getting trouble. "I suppose says Stick." He places a box marked 'Tzimfemme' on the counter where the potions were. "But I think it's okay if I leave her fifty pounds of chocolate. High quality chocolate. Heh." Vincent just shakes his head at Stick's apparent lack of morals. Next, Stick stops by Gwaihir's gardens, and 'borrows' some of his special plant food, and leaves some special, non-fake shaky lettuce heads in its place, hoping Gwai would be intrigued with examining the rareities. On third leg of their journey, Stick stops by Vincent's room. "What are we doing here?" asks the confused initiate. "Getting all your writing. We'll leave the food and potions here, we'll be back right away." "Uhhh..." "Hurry, we don't have much time!" After gathering all his loose papers and data disks with writing stored on them, Vincent and Stick quickly make their way to a dark corridor of The Pen. After a few minutes, they notice a figure that seems oddly shaped to be wearing a trenchcoat. He greets Stick in a slightly disguised, slightly draconic voice. "Hello, ick-stay. Have you the oods-gay?" "Aye." "And the eld-gay?" "Aye." "Oodgay." Vincent just shakes his head. That was the worst pig latin he had ever seen... heard, in his life. He shrugged it off. Stick handed the 'mysterious' figure Vincent's stack of writing and a heavy bag of what could be nothing other than geld. "You know what to do. See you when the heat dies down." "Eah... Yeah." The mysterious figure scrambles down the hall, giggling mischievously to himself. Vincent looks to Stick, confused as ever. "What was all that about? Was that who I thought it was?" he asks. "Well, we have to promote your work somehow. As for who it was, just you nevermind. We've got important matters at hand. Back to your chambers. Although, we may want to do this outside." "Whatever, the sooner this is over with, the sooner you'll leave me alone, right?" "Uh, sure!" Stick says as an evil grin plays across his face. "Let's go!" So the pair make their way back to Vincent's quarters to pick up the supplies from earlier. They then head outside in a secluded area behind the keep. Stick immediately sets to mixing the potions with the plant food. "Uh, do you know what you're doing?" asks Vincent. "Of course not, but don't worry, I'm just about done." Stick replies, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. Vincent just sighs. "Alright, done! Here, drink this!" Vincent shrugs for the umpteenth time today and chugs the potion back. Although very bitter, he manages to keep it down. The results are immediate, and Vincent finally finds that Stick, and the rest of The Pen is much smaller. "A-ha! It worked, now go quickly, show the Elders how you have grown and developed! Muwahaha!" Vincent blinked, shrugged, then punted Stick into the distance. The rest was up to him. OOC: I'm so silly...

Whether it's too descriptive or not, it's still a great piece of writing! Being one that has his own troubles with being descriptive, it's nice to see someone who can as inspiration, if nothing else I like how you present the situation; although I can't say I've been married, I think you captured how it's like for just about any groom out there. Gah, I can't think of any other good comments, so I'll just leave it with a 'well done, friend!'

Vincent, it seems like you're off to an interesting beginning with this story. Although it does have it's share of spelling errors, it doesn't really take away from the actual story itself. (And spelling is just something that improves with time, right?) Anyways, so far I don't have a lot to say about this story, but I will comment more as it expands. It looks like you're going in an interesting direction with your character here, and I'll be looking forward to reading more ^.^ Keep up the good effort, and don't give up on this one! (Not implying you were going to or anything... )

Usagi yawned from the tree banch where he was currently perched. The recent day had certainly taken a minor toll. Nothing a good night's sleep couldn't cure; if Usagi felt like sleeping, and he didn't. He shifted his gaze from the campfire to the night sky. His mind raced through different thoughts. He thought about his father, he thought about his friends, and he thought about his travelling party. He thought about the future. Secretly, he feared that when he was needed most he'd screw up. Usagi was like that, although all but a select few knew it. He did his best, as often as possible, and it showed. However, inside, he was dangerously insecure of his abilities as a warrior. He knew he was good, but he always thought he could be better. The rabbit sighed, and shrugged it off. There was nothing he could do but his best, and take things as they came. It was the only way through it all. Returning his attention back to the camp again, Usagi noticed he felt pretty empty-stomached. Reaching into his small shoulder pack, he pulled out a miniature piece of bread and tore it into pieces. He nibbled on the morsels empty-mindedly then munched on a carrot. Eventually everyone went to rest, so Usagi took it upon himself to take first watch. OOC: Gah, substance. Oh and I don't know if you wanted to take liberty here, Kas, or not, so I figured everyone just headed off to sleep. If they didn't, well, I suppose everyone can just disregard my last tidbit then, can't they?

*bump*

*As soon as Alaeha drops her last line, the lights go dim and scratching can be heard. The scratching of a vintage vinyl record. A spotlight appears and Mr.Bunny can be seen, decked out to the max, headphones covering his little head. He let's the record spin free for a moment, and an old verse from some unknown band from ages past plays, then Mr.B starts spinning and scratching like mad. He stops for a moment, another spotlight comes on, and sticks appears. Mr.B hits a massive bassline, and Stick falls up, revealing another Stick. Chaos ensues* (Stick 2:) Heh, look at that dope he couldn't even cope Mr.B's phat beat He fell to his feet man that's so weak! *Stick stands up and dusts himself off* Weak? Like your knees? When you see killer bees? C'mon man, you don't compare I make your girlfriend stare; stutter, I spread 'er like butter And i went too with that line; sent a shiver down her spine that's much better, what? Ha, right, your rhythm is flat Me, i'm the hippest cat So take a step back while I attack with my lyrics that you can't even stand go back to your wussy l'il boy band Seriously, what are you, some back-sync boy or maybe you'd rather be someone's love toy Oh look, I'm taking a wrong turn My words, they're starting to burn It's alright, I'll pass the mic back to you... Ha, you know what? What man? We both suck, so I'm gonna pass the mic on to the one, the only Our phat d.j. he's looking bored up there, kinda lonely (Both Sticks:) Hit it Mr.Bunny! *After spinning a few more beats, Mr.Bunny hops onto the floor between the two Sticks* "..." Yeah! "..." Word! "..." That's the stuff Mr.B! But that's enough, back to me. Stick number two, enough of you I'm gonna bring you pain, meet the archer from spain! El-bow! *Stick 1 smacks Stick 2 with his elbow* Ow! That's right, you silly imposter I'm removing you from this roster There's only room for one Stick here And well, bud, your lines are queer I mean, they're weird I've never heard of someone better than me, not even me but I'm not you, and you're not me So don't go dropping your ill verses and lines 'Cause I'll serve you a million more times. Peace. (Heh, this was so silly; I suck... But it's also kinda an inside joke, to a few people from the IRC chat )

You know, there's plenty, but I forgot them all! Curses.

Yeah Vlad, the most important thing, no matter what, is to perservere. Things get stressful and crazy, and that's all life. But it all balances out; having a great family like The Pen is a great thing to have, and I'm sure I can speak for everyone when I say we're happy to have you among our numbers ^.^ (Okay, I could have worded that better, but yeah... stuff...) What else can I say? I think it's all been said ^.^ Keep it cool

Even though I don't know your exact situation, I do know what's going on, basically. I'm going through the same thing. I can definitely say I know what's running through your mind right now. It's funny, how one can devote their heart to someone so much, that they ignore everything else. You know, it's like no matter what happens between the two of you, you don't care, because of those few moments, everything fades away, and it's just you, her, and nothing else. Nothing else matters, and everything is good. You forget about pain, sorrow, and every other sort of depression-inducing, stress-bringing bull-crap. The hard part for me, is figuring out the difference between love and loneliness. Still, it's worth it, 'til the very last. In any case, I feel for ya man, I really do. If ya ever wanna chat it up, feel free to drop me a line, my e-mail's in my profile, and we seem to find each other pretty good on mIRC Best wishes,

Ah, welcome to The Mighty Pen, now, to get out of these tights... *Stick runs away from the stage tugging at his clothes vigorously, muttering about how he lets himself get into these types of things... for free nonetheless...*

Aidan thought it was all over as his sword fell to the ground, shards clinking on the charred grass before him. He readied his fists in a defesnive martial position, although he knew it would do him no good. The beasts would rip him apart. Then, in the flash of an instant, all he saw was green. He realised it was a cloak, and took a step back, bumping into a soft form behind him. Rocoss stood in front of him, swinging madly at the demons around the trio. The hellish beasts did not show fear, but took a careful step back. The elf handled his blade with deadly accuracy. Aidan could hear slashing and the crunching of skulls behind him. Rocoss stabbed one sword into the ground momentarily, then released a belt clip. A sheathed sword fell from beneath Rocoss' cape to the ground in front of Aidan. The youth stared at the weapon blankly. "Well, pick it up you fool, it is your life!" Aidan shook his head vigorously, snapping back into reality. He picked up the sword and his heart beat more rapidly than it had before. Memory flooded over him as his mind flashed back to the days of his childhood. He had seen but a glimpse of this blade. It was his father's. He saw it before he had fallen, before his father had been slain. Sheath discarded, Aidan swung the blade slowly through open air, then screamed a threat towards the demons. "Foul beasts! You have taken my family, my life from me! You will pay!" "Good Aidan, harness your anger, but do not let it control you. You must live through this battle, and see tomorrow. Now, fight, fight like your father did for you!" Tears fell from Aidan's eyes as he sliced through his enemies, marching ever forward, as if going forward would be taking him farther away from his past. When he could no longer stand, the twins each sheathed a sword and held him up by the waist, their other arms stabbing forward, downing all those who would seek to drain Aidan of his life, of his passion, of his rightful vengeance. Aidan's head hung low, but he maintained a two-handed grip on his father's sword as the hellhounds and demons lashed at the trio. They moved forward, until it seemed as if they were inching along like slugs, or snails. Time seemed to freeze, and all seemed lost. Things seemed worse, when Rocoss, Roxxia and Aidan saw what must have been the commanding force behind the demons. It stood at least seven feet tall, skin a dark red, almost the colour of blood. It had no hair, but instead a pair of goat-like horns that curled into the air. It was muscular and wielded a long whip. The demons attacking the trio parted, and then left. It was the elves, one human, and the pit lord. The twins looked down to Aidan. They nodded, then dropped him and took a step back. Roxxia layed her hands on Aidan's head, though. The young man felt a cold breeze wash through his blood, and he felt revitalized. His injuries suddenly didn't seem so bad, and he felt like he could fight with twice the strength he could fight with before. He stood before the pit lord, who examined the human quizzicaly, whip flailing in the air. Aidan's look was pure fire. It raged within him, hate and love, they were now his left and right hands. He raised his sword and struck with both. The twins had sheathed their other swords now, and taken to bows. They turned their backs to Aidan, and took fire upon anything that came within sight. The pit lord's whip entangled around Aidan's sword, but Aidan somehow proved to be stronger and pulled the whip free of the pit lord's hand. Astonished, the large demon advanced on Aidan, fists slicing the air rapidly. Aidan met each attempted strike with the blade of his father's sword; demonic blood soon littered the ground between the two combatants. Seeing his opening, Aidan stabbed forward, impaling the pit lord through the stomach. Aidan jumped and cleaved upwards, splitting the thing's torso in half. He landed on the ground, victorious, then fell, unconscious to the sweet caress of the ground.

So the human-minotaur alliance was formed. As the days went by, Dierden gained less and less interest in the fights. He found himself getting disgusted by the slaughter. Sure, the goblins were evil, but it was a slaughter. Especially with the help of the merciless minotaurs, it was just... vicious. There were times that Dierden recoiled in horror as they slayed families of non-violent goblins. They hadn't come upon any more encampments, at least none so large as the original one. Now it was simply villages within the mountains. He didn't even take part in the fighting any more. He didn't want anything to do with it any more. Although this may have been the way of good, it was certainly not Nature's way. These goblins weren't harming the land. In fact, they seemed to live as close to living in harmony with Nature as goblins could. Depressingly, Tayne had fought with zeal among the front lines of the minotaurs. He quickly distanced himself from Dierden, effectively depriving him of his only friend. Once again Dierden was alone at heart. It was after about 2 and a half months of rigid travel and senseless violence, Dierden decided to do something. One cloudy afternoon, he approached Legman's tent, his disgust with the recent days' victories quite apparent. He didn't even bother to get clearance, he simply walked in. Legman was seated in the same desk he had done the recruiting from all those months before. It was as if he had expected. Dierden was about to go into a speech when Legman spoke. "You have had enough of the fighting." Dierden blinked, then stood in a more relaxed position. "Furthermore, you don't want there to be any more raids on the goblins, yes?" he nodded. "No. We can not stop. You though, you can go. I don't want anyone here who themselves do not want to be here. Just be careful. I don't think the minotaurs well take too kindly to what they consider a traitor. It is a shame we can not finish walking this path together, Dierden. Oh well, perhaps we will meet again one day." Dierden raised his finger as if to make a point then waved his hand in dismissal. He left the tent as quickly as he entered and heaved a sigh of relief. He was free to do what he wanted. It wasn't as if he was being held in the army against his will or anything. He just wanted to be sure of everything. He picked up his pack from where he had left it on the ground, and started to head south, away from the encampment. Tayne was no where to do be seen, which was moderately dissappointing. Dierden was hoping to get one last word in with his former friend, but he supposed it wouldn't happen. He shrugged it off, and went on his way. It started to rain but Dierden simply looked up to the sky, laughed and danced along as he continued on in whatever direction his instinct took him. OOC/Edit: Alright, sorry to everyone involved; I kinda cut things off in that original post, mostly because I forgot where I was going with this, but now I have my next few posts planned out (mentally) and I'm good to go. If anyone has questions for me, you all know how to get ahold of me (with the exception of maybe Katz, but I don't think that should pose much of a problem...), or you can ask me here or in the OOC thread. ^.^