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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Alkinae

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  • Posts

    7
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About Alkinae

  • Birthday 01/17/1984

Previous Fields

  • Characters
    Ziyousansz, Alkinae, Driam, Idre
  • Race/Gender Details
    Alkinae - Spirit of nature. Former human aeons ago, now has body composed of leaves, sticks, and minerals. Carries himself on roots and has a smaller set of arms amid the stomach region. Head, forearms, and torso are large leaves; the rest are bundled sticks. Large, winglike leaves sprout from the shoulders.
  • Bio
    Left home plane to see what else exist. After all, even a druid needs more to life than just life.
  • Feedback Level
    Honesty, no matter how vicious. Worship works just as well, though, so feel free.
  • Geld
    28

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  • Website URL
    http://
  • ICQ
    0

Profile Information

  • Location
    louisiana mudhole
  • Interests
    guitars, leaving this state, music, leaving this state, art, video games, leaving this state, and leaving this state

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  1. Hello. I doubt any of you remember me, as I was never truly active. I had actually forgotten about the account I started last July until a "Happy Birthday" announcement arrived in my e-mail inbox. Now I am back, hopefully to make a larger mark than I did (I think I had two posts altogether).
  2. I put Beacon in the writing help place. I don't know how to move posts, so I copy/pasted it to a new thread there. I also don't know how to erase old topics, so I left a small message. As far as the story goes, I haven't actually touched it in a while. It had started as a joke with my friends that I decided to make a story from, so I wrote the events down before geting to dialogue to make sure I wouldn't forget them. I'm going to work on it from there, and probably change a lot of things about it before it's over. I have few ideas about what happens next, but I wanted some help on writing the thing. See, I have ideas but have not done an extensive deal with writing (more of a musician and artist, very time-consuming hobbies) and I figured that the best place for pointers on writing would be a writing community. Also, if any words (outside of conversation) are mispelled, please inform me. I don't always catch that.
  3. Thanks. I wasn't thinking about the rest of that when I wrote it down, so I'm changing it.
  4. I just posted a story I started writing a while back (Beacon) and I'm at the same point from when I started. I can't think of what to do next. Writer's block sucks, but I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you that. So if anybody can read it and, maybe, offer suggestions, then that would be great. Thanks.
  5. Funny thing, how life works. Small things, like jewels, jobs, and rank get noticed, but that which is most obvious is frequently ignored. The ocean, the sky, the road - especially the road - generally means little to casual eye. Quite sad, since these are truly the only things you can ever really depend on when you need them. This is one thing that Alkinae had learned to be true, a hard lesson taken to heart ages ago. Once, he too chased the minute details of the mortal realm. Little stood in his way if he had a goal. However, every ambitious heart soon meets a more ambitious soul, and Alkinae was not one to let another be king of the hill. It cost him, and anyone who ever fell to ambition's venomous touch knows the price too well. He lie in the street, the ground concencrated with crimson rain. He cried, as dying men are ought to do, to any god, demon, or passer-by who would save him from fate. He waited on that road for an answer that was not to come. But this was a different road, a seperate time. He felt the cool breeze pass, and trembled as the wind caressed him gently. Downhill, one could see a small town, precisely what he was searching for. Cities may be grand, but close groups have a soul. A steady pace, the occasional brief pause, and soon his trip was at a close. He walked into the local tavern, and the air escaped the room. His answer had, in fact, came - just not as expected. His saviour actually expected him to keep his word, which is quite unusual with death-bed pacts. His job was simple; give up his lust for things and live for life itself. Protect life and nature with all the drive you once chased wealth. The forces of life themselves answered; they said "Be a druid or die." Not one to take death lying down, Alkinae accepted the offer. After a few near-fatal lapses, it became quite clear that he really would have to keep his end of the bargain to live. "What a shame," he said, thinking of the life he was forced to leave behind. The old path had died and a new door opened. With a sigh, he stepped through the door. With a sigh, he stepped through the door. It was always the same now. At first, it wasn't so bad. Druids do exist, and they like to drink, too. But that was aeons ago - about three by now actually. Nature had given it's thrall a long life to do it's bidding, but some changes had to be made. Slowly, he came to resemble the trees he fought to save. Where once fine brown hair sat, a large, leaf-like crest rested. Leaf plate armored his chest and forearms, leaving exposed muscles of twig and branch in the gaps. A small, winglike leaf rested on either shoulder, and a series of vines and roots served as his legs. But he had grown accustomed to it, much as he had to the response it invoked in others. "Wha, What.." A startled elderly gentleman arose from his seat. "I've seen a bit in my time, but I must say, you're new here. But," he grinned, "a customer is a customer. What can I get cha?" "Any wine will do." The old man fetched his closest (and cheapest, because the stranger didn't look terribly wealthy) wine and poured a decent amount in an old glass. "Here ya go," he weezed through yellowed teeth as he placed the drink on the table. Alkinae smiled, took the brew, placed it on the floor, and put a root in it. "So, what is there to this little villa?" The gentleman, watching the root suck up the liquor, almost missed the question. "Oh, not much here. The next town has a writing community, if yer interested in that sorta thing." A thin line drew where Alkinae's lips once were. "Thank you for the info and the drink." With that, he got up and proceeded out the door. "HEY!!!" He turned. " You didn't pay for your drink!" "You shouldn't worry so much about the little things." He left for the next town, truly content for the first time since leaving his home plane (the maps had his forest right but his name wrong - hopefully other planes had more competent cartographers). After reaching his destination, the Mighty Pen was fairly easy to find. An application later, smiled inwardly. Maybe things will finally change. Maybe. DarkLordOfSlackers@Yahoo.com
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