If you’d be so kind…
If you’ve enjoyed reading anything original I’ve posted on my blog, please take a minute and check out a short story I wrote for an autumn contest.
Here’s the permalink to my entry: http://booklrs.tumblr.com/post/63467342315/the-wanderer
Thank you! :)
If you like it, please like it! :)
This post details why I specialize in frost when I play wizard type classes and moreover why I play casters in general. (&
Being caught in a blizzard is a terrible place to be. Trudging through snow up to your waistline makes a battle charge impossible to pull off. Exposed flesh crystallizes within seconds; you better find some cover. Soon your ice-caked armor will be nothing more than a deep freeze casket.
I welcome you up close, this is my domain. In fact, when you close in is when you’ll feel the most pain.
The reason for this is because you’ll be ever so close, to pummeling me with a fury of blows.
But, see I’ll cast a quick spell that will make your joints numb, then you’re left standing there looking extremely dumb.
I reap critical bonuses when you’re in that state, you’ll be spamming your keys but it’s already too late.
Honor, respect, discipline.
It’s not just about honoring your own values; take the values of others into consideration as well. It’s not just about respecting others; have some self respect. It’s not just about exhibiting your refined discipline when others are around; it’s about making the best choice for everyone when you’re alone.
Sorry, no screenshot with this one, but hopefully you enjoy the read. This is the back story for the main character of a short story that I’m working on. Oh, and don’t you dare assume that he kills his father, that’s too typical to be rehashed by me. ;)
In a remote, nonetheless bustling village in the thick woods of the north, there existed a very happy family. The parents gleamed with their newborn son in their arms and named him Arias. Friends and family gathered from far off regions of the countryside to celebrate the monumental occasion. The early years were filled with laughter; the healthy boy started losing his baby fat and began to make friends with other children in the town. His parents could not have been any more the prouder of this radiant child they brought into this wonderful world.
Then, one day, something strange happened. While Arias’ parents were cooking up a storm for the community dinner that was scheduled for that evening, a whirlwind of a woman came hurrying to their front door. She banged on the door with fervor, resting her fingertips on her bottom lip anxiously while awaiting the clear to come inside.
The messenger could wait no longer for as soon as the door was cracked her voice erupted, filling the room with a concerned tone, “It’s Arias, we think he might be in some kind of trouble, come quickly!”. The food was needy like a newborn and quickly burned without the constant churning of the jumbo wooden spoon.
As the concerned party reached the top of the hill where Arias supposedly was, the ceiling of a giant, shimmering, purple dome appeared first in their field of vision. Once over the hill, the edges of the half circle were drawn precisely to the ground.
“See?!” shouted the woman in exasperation. “Only demons are capable of such magic. We can’t get inside, and he won’t open his eyes!”
Shocked, Arias’ parents circled the shield that, with the help of the ground, encapsulated their prized child. Electricity crackled occasionally from the surface of the dome and they noticed how their son sat crossed-legged in the middle of it. He hovered six inches off the ground and his dark-brown hair stood on end, swaying to and fro due to it being manipulated by the static electricity surrounding him. As they squared off with their son, they tried desperately to make eye contact with him. This attempt returned no result since he seemed to be in a trance; eyes closed and a focused smile on his face.
“I’m going inside!”, Arias’ father announced nervously. “We must somehow gain his attention and figure out what in the divine realms is going on here!”. It was his plan to build up some momentum in order to have the best chance of ending up on the inner side of the energy field after his charge.
From twenty paces back he took off running, sprinting and as he neared the dome he leaped, arms guarding his face. As he connected with the shield, he shook. Oh, how violently he shook. Nonchalantly, Arias opened his eyes like a spider sensing an intruder caught helplessly in his web. Arias’ eyes were white bulbs lacking their pupils and they shone brightly, emitting a wispy purple aura. The snoopy onlookers that were beginning to assemble did nothing but gaze in shock.
At first Arias was disinterested in the dancing man. After some time, he became curious as he watched this familiar person writhe in agony, suspended, a prisoner of the electricity that coursed through his body. At long last Arias’ pupils reemerged, his visage now spoke of worry as he realized who this man, caught like an animal in his trap, was. It was his father, his daddy.
At this realization the shield vanished causing the man to flop on the ground and lay motionless on his face. His clothes were steaming, skin sizzling, under the late-morning sun. With a look of horror on his face, Arias ran to the woods, away from the staring eyes of a thousand loved ones, away from himself.
A few nights ago while on a supply run, I overheard an interesting piece of history in a conversation between a few of the guards outside Dragonsreach. They were commenting on the location of Whiterun,
"You know, Whiterun was purposefully built a ways off from any peaks so we’re able to see the flying devils before they’re raining hell-fire upon us."
As I descended the stairs to Dragonsreach a thought occurred to me,
Yeah, although there’s something comforting about living in a cozy place that’s tucked away snug against the mountains. At least for us there’s a chance they’ll fly over without even noticing us.