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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Stranded


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I don't know where I am, but I'm not bothered, at least not yet. Instead, I enjoy watching the water flow through a gold and green fountain. The colours look very nice together, and the fountain soothes me.

 

Finally, I stand, and make my way down the street. I'm aiming for the large ferris wheel that simply sits there, right in the middle of the city, perched on green grass and in between streets and people. I wonder vaguely whether it ever gets used, then turn left and keep walking. This road is lined on either side with shops of all kinds. At one I buy a shirt showing a triangular building; this seems to be on all the shirts. At another I buy a tie sporting a mouse with black, exaggerated ears.

 

After coming out of the second shop, I consider going closer to the four-legged structure to my right, but decide against it. Traffic is zooming incredibly fast all around the squat squarish building, in circles right up to the base of it and zipping by even faster on the outer edge where I stand. No, I decide. Instead, I will walk to that museum I keep hearing about, and maybe stop and see that pontificating man...

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The hot air makes me gasp, and my eyes survey the endless sandy plain. Who would have said that parachuting in this country would bring me to a place like this one? The pilot of that plane should be sued... "Have a nice landing," indeed.

 

Well, I'm starting to feel the sun, but at least I have these nice, huge shadows to protect me for a while. Maybe someone can actually find me before I need water... maybe that pilot does have some kind of brain and tell my friends where he opened the door so I could jump. "The Red Sea is a nice sight, and you'll be right on its beaches..." I wonder if he mistook that big big river over there for the sea. Because I'm quite sure that the sea isn't that near! Tell me to trust touristic guides who don't speak your language! I would understand these funny characters better than what he said.

 

My eyes fall on the symbols traced in the paper. Something that looks like a bird, then another that could be waves... is this a jackal-headed person? I'm sure I've seen these in some museum. Archaeology has always fascinated me.

 

These shadows are really nice. I remember the tales told about these three buildings... how they align to the poles - or was it to the cardinal points? - and how everything on them was related astronomically to very significant points in the earth, the sky, and the constellations. And the traps built in... I mean, any unauthorized person trying to enter there to get the valuables would most certainly die while trying to figure out an exit. Lots of dead ends, and false passages.

 

I hope someone remembers I was supposed to be parachuting in this area... I hope someone remembers to check where that plane went to! Ending up all dry and having my body found out in the future, and be mistaken for the people who are in that building over there..

 

What am I saying? It must be the sun...

 

Hey! Helloooo!! Is there someone out there?

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Again I am stranded. Somewhere in the wilderness this time. When I say wilderness I'm talking about the previous state of the area, as in recent years with all the tourists, this place is nowhere near a wilderness anymore. Although I understand the language of the country, since it is english, I can't easily place it. The accent is definitely not australian though. There are a lot of foreign tourists here, and I can hear a lot of different languages being spoken. In front of me a cliff face stares at me from four different directions. Had I been here about 80 years ago, I would have been able to smell dynamite, but that smell is now long gone.

 

How could I have gotten stranded so soon again after the last time? I was found fast enough then, hopefully it shall be the same this time. Before I go and try and find a stream to put this bottle in, I shall have to add that there are quite a few pine trees around here, although I can only smell them from a distance.

Edited by Patrick Durham
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Tzim... that was an extremely challenging, incredible post! :blink: I've just spent more than an hour with Deggy trying to guess where you were stranded...

 

... and if you are in the Bermuda Triangle, you have our congratulations on the great research work you've done!! It was fun trying to guess, and then check all the information on your post :)

 

 

 

~Tanny (& Deggy)

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(I know I've already found more than my share... but poor Black9 has been stranded for so long I wanted to try tongue.gif

 

May I deliver some tea to Black9 in Stonehenge, by any chance?)

 

 

 

Black hears a ship arrive and thinks it's the aliens coming to pick him up, but finds that his tea has arrived and runs onto the ship ready to leave this bloody place!

 

Great job, Tanuchan!

Edited by Black9
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Oh noooooo... stranded again? How could this happen? I was going to investigate Black's possible location, and ended up in a strange place again?

 

 

Now that I pay more attention to what's around me, it seems this is a pretty interesting place; lots of people that look like tourists, with cameras and video cameras. I'd even say that they're expecting to find something different... they aren't just idly taking pictures of themselves or of the landscape. They seem to be waiting for someone (something?). But when I ask about it to some locals it's pretty hard to understand such strong accent. Reminds me of a certain character from one of those late 60's American Sci-Fi TV shows... And who'd think I'd see men wearing something other than pants in this part of the world!

 

Oh, stuffed animals! I love then, and there's a shop where I can find... variations of just one kind of animal?! Maybe it has some local meaning? And this guy now tells me that cousins of this animal are supposed to have been seen even in Japan and in Turkey... and that the first time people saw or documented it here was about 70 years ago or so, although it has been mentioned much earlier.

 

 

Please, can someone send me a plane or a helicopter to catch me? It's nice here, but I was trying to reach other stranded people, and not get stranded again...

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*Apaltra sighs and sits down on one of the many pieces of rubble lying around. There didn't seem to be any escape from here, apart from being rescued.*

 

"Well then, a letter-in-a-bottle might reach someone who can help"

 

*sighing again Apaltra grabs her pen and starts writing on a piece of parchment*

 

To anyone who reads this,

 

It seems I am stuck on this wretched island... even though I am not sure it IS an island. The only thing I'm sure of is that it's circular, and there's nothing outside but

 

"hmm" *Apaltra taps the pen against her lips while trying to think of how to describe her situation best*

 

blueness... as in, sky blue, but I'm not sure that it IS sky. The island itself consists of several rings of what looks like canals. At least, there's water in them, and it seems to belong there...The buildings and architecture look unfamiliar to me. They are old.. very very old. It seems that I'm the only one here, which I think is a good thing. Looking at some of the mosaics I don't think this civilisation was very nice.

Well, I hope someone finds me soon, I have no idea if this stale air is being refilled. Yes, it feels like I'm in a cave, which is silly since all around me it's blue.. but the air I'm breathing is as old as the buildings.

 

 

*folding the little parchment Apaltra takes out a little bottle and finishes the letter-in-a-bottle. As she gets up she realises something*

 

"Oh dear... erm, where to throw it in?"

 

*after a moment of thought she shrugs and flings it as far out in the blue as she can, hoping with all her might that by some sheer coincidence it'll find a way out to civilisation*

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Isn't this great? A nice balloon rescued me in Loch Ness, but the pilot just lost his compass and also the way... now I'm here, stranded again!

 

I remember traveling South from Loch Ness. I remember being caught by a nasty gale and thrown off route... though we did keep going South. For quite a long time.

 

Then, the next thing I know is that both balloon and pilot have vanished, and I'm left alone in this big place with nothing to see, and that goes on for miles and miles. Looks pretty boring.

 

I'm sitting here, and it's weird how my mind wanders... I'm quite expecting to listen to a Maker coming. That would be interesting! But when I look a bit further, memories of Aiel come also... I'm pretty sure that I could meet them in a place like this!

 

Well, nothing I can do... besides folding this note as an airplane, and let it fly...

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Yay! I was found!! :D

 

And I think it's time for someone to pick you up there in Mount Rushmore, Patrick... though it should be Deggy, as he told me you'd probably be there :P.

 

 

(As people seem to have forgotten you there, I'm trying to find you so you can get stranded somewhere else ;))

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The two blades met inside a cloud of sparks. Zadown danced backwards, parrying two more swift blows.

 

At least I won't hit a tree. They are so long gone I can barely hear their spirits.

 

A tiny, sardonic smile appeared on his face as he deflected another deadly blow and took another step backwards.

 

The ocean, now - that I cannot avoid if this continues. Or one of those stone ... things.

 

Despite hindered by the low magic, crushed down by the impossibility of his immortal body here on a plane lacking mysteries, the Dreamer was still faster than any human. His almost invisible nodachi swatted aside Zadown's metallium katana and slashed through the samurai's silk clothes, spraying blood on the sea breeze. Zadown blocked the rest of the swing with only right hand, his left leaving the hilt to catch the spreading blood. With two outstretched fingers he painted shimmering runes of power on the air, worked his Blood Magic through the savage pain.

 

Even this barren world must have some benefical spirits!

 

The thin spray of crimson twisted suddenly in the air with a new life, the samurai's life blood turning into red two-dimensional outline. It painted an oriental dragon on the air, the creature briefly glancing westwards over it shoulder to its distant home. Then it opened its maw and rushed towards the planewalker. It proved a distraction and Zadown changed from retreat to offense, his unnamed katana meeting the Dreamer's perfect, impeccable parries at the same time the immortal used his long blade to keep the dragon away. Seeing an opening, the samurai lunged at the same time the dragon swooped down. Both struck empty air.

 

Only the weight of this low-magic world crashing on the Dreamer's shoulders as he re-emerged from the Astral saved Zadown. He had time to turn around, to block the keenest edge of the attack, to step backwards. Nevertheless Pain struck all the way to his flesh, blood soaring even higher this time, the second part of the blow dispatching the conjured spirit.

 

When Zadown raised his sword to ready position, his face was deadly pale, his robes almost black. In one of those clear, still moments that come before possible end, he smelled the cool salty wind, heard the distant sounds of people, saw every little detail of his scarred, pale adversary standing on a sea of grass. He drew a deep breath, savouring the sweet feeling of oxygen filling his straining lungs.

 

The Dreamer grinned at him, pale red eyes shining in his ravaged face.

 

“Give 't up, Shard. Yer blade may be keen, but yer not fast 'nough t' best me, even 'ere, ya?”

 

“Hah, give up and get a swift death on this far-away island? Now that ye've given me all the advantages? I'm afraid I have to refuse, m'lord Dreamer.”

 

A wan grin on his face, Zadown dipped his left hand into the blood flowing from his wounds.

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