Welcome to the thoughts of a Dwarf. This intrepid site is designed primarily to allow a place where I can store all of my writings, be it stories or poems or illogical philosophical rants. I hope to be able to provide interesting reading material for my friends and the random stranger who somehow gets sucked off course and finds this sight. Feel free to comment or even request stories. The more inspiration that I have, the more I can explore the limits of imagination and using literary works to rest for a moment from the tedious demands of reality.

In the beginning, I will be uploading many of my already written works. Though most of them are written for the gaming website Achaea.com, which is a text based MUD that I have been playing since 1998. My current main character in Achaea is the Dwarven Paladin known as Goryllin. His viewpoint is used in many of my current stories, as I draw upon his life and his world to create the science fantasty realities in which my story characters dwell.

Achaea is a medieval setting fantasy world, filled with Dwarves, Humans, Trolls, and many more fantastical races and professions. It is a living and breathing world in that every player has a chance to change the world and its direction. It is a player driven roleplay enhanced realm where combat, life, death and yes even taxes are all a part of the experience. We wouldn't mind having you drop by for a visit and pint of ale, if you do visit please send Goryllin a message and he will be glad to help you.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

A Confident Captain...

Broken rays of light struggle to fight through wafting clouds of smoke, as a soft roll of thunder seems to echo from every side of a massive battlefield. Tense exclamations are quickly muted as nearly a hundred soldiers crouch close to the earth and frantically peer around to try to make sense of the blurred images contorting in the smoke. Thousands of acres of burnt grasslands spread out all around the soldiers and the smoke seems intent on blotting out the very sun in the sky. Hasty signals are passed from soldier to soldier as they can’t see more than 3 feet ahead of them. A brown garbed sergeant desperately tries to form a defensive formation against the foe he knows must surround them by now.

Barely over a hundred feet away, steely gray eyes remain locked on the urgent motions of the sergeant and his company. Unfazed by the smoke and acrid burning smell, Captain Maulkin studies his target with serious contemplation. So still is the Captain that even the great destrier beneath him refuses to move, allowing the carrion flies buzzing in clouds to land on its body without complaint. After a few minutes of study, the Captain moves his large gauntleted hand in a small circle and from his right comes a soft trill, nearly birdlike in its quality. As that call elongates and drifts upon the wind something stirs across the field, suddenly forming itself into a crashing and twisting shadow army racing through the smoke. Hoarse calls and yells ring upon the air and all of the brown clad soldiers tense into a sudden formation and attempt to form a shield wall. The thunder of hooves echo prominently in the ears of all around, the dense clouds of smoke making it sound as if it was coming from right on top of any person that could hear it.

With elegant grace the Captain swings down from his mount to close his eyes and lean his head back to the sky. Soot drifts down from above to smear his beard gray, but still he waits and listens to the chaos erupting around him. Ahead of him the unaware soldiers react to the crashing sound of a Calvary charge nearly upon them; some break and run to disappear into the haze, others are more disciplined and follow the sergeant’s bellows to form tight ranks and present weapons front, others seem immobilized by fear which directly counters those blood thirsty few who can’t bear the wait for combat and scream their challenges into the smoky blanket. At what seems the very last moment on this earth, the charging hooves carve a beat directly into the veins of every soldier present and then suddenly the sound is gone. A hesitant pause silences nearly every noise from the company of men, as they gape in surprise at the sudden reprieve. One heartbeat lingers, then two, and with that the Captain snaps his arms up into a commanding gesture.

The puzzled soldiers have just begun to relax, most standing and staring around in bewilderment as they try to discover what happened and if they were actually under attack or just hearing echoes from much further away. The sergeant is just about to bark an order to present an orderly front and stay alert when he happens to see just a glint of light flashing off the helmet of one of his men. Turning to face behind him, he is shocked to his core at the sight presented before him. Striding confidently towards him comes a ghostly apparition, heavy boots crunching down into still smoldering grass and empty arms stretched outwards towards the sky. Smoke drifts up from the scorched earth and gently embraces the ornate green armor in a fitting caress as the world around the sergeant explodes into fury and death.

No emotion mars the pristine visage of the Captain as he glides forward towards his dying enemies. Thick wooden shafts whistle down from the sky to embed themselves in relaxing soldiers, one man manages to lift his shield in time to catch an arrow right in front of his face but the very next moment he is skewered from behind as a fellow soldier reacts poorly to a shaft buried in his throat. With two more strides, the Captain has nearly reached the enemy forces and he once against closes his eyes to savor the moment as his troops continue to rain destruction down in front of him.

Frantically shouting orders, the horrified sergeant tries to protect his men. It seems to be working for a brief instant, as order is returned and shields begin stopping the onslaught of arrows. Turning to face the warrior striding confidently into his midst, the sergeant begins to think they might have a chance. With a terrible rending sound, a massive boulder erases hope as it collides into the tightly packed formation and smashes armor, bones, blood, and tissue into a solid meaty paste.  Another boulder thuds in with a sickly crunching sound, and then the sky is filled with them. Dazed and bloodied, the soldiers try to find shelter or escape reality but there is no relenting from the arrows carving lines of pain and death complimented by the totality of a thudding boulder.

Sinking to his knees, the sergeant is aghast at the loss of his entire company so quickly. Just a year ago, nobody would have thought of challenging the Dalison House. Respected for being the first Royal House, their reputation had slipped a bit but enough people still feared them that they went basically unchallenged. Now they were dying, and too fast to count. Who did this to them, to him? Almost as if taunting the sergeant, the barrage of boulders and the hail of arrows peters out to leave a field empty except for smoke and blood. Twisting slowly from his kneeling position to gaze around him, tears freely fall as the sergeant realizes that not a single man was left alive. Despair rips all reasoning or action from his grasp and he dumbly watches thick metal boots stride through the remains of his men until they stop right in front of him. “No more will you disgrace this world, you have proven yourself weak and unworthy of life” comes a gravelly pronouncement out of the haze and then light ripples along a blade and the sergeant cares no more.

A few moments pass, with just the Captain standing near the headless body and gazing upon the ruined remains of the Dalison soldiers. Then other figures begin to materialize from the smoky surroundings and approach the silent captain. The first to arrive reaches out a gloved hand to give the Captain a small cloth which he uses to clean his blade silently. “Captain, we still have reports of three other bands of soldiers still nearby. Two from House Rodhale and it looks like one from House Obelyn.” Looking at the speaker, one of his closest aides, the Captain responds “Are we sure they are two different Houses? House Rodhale and Obelyn both wear blue that can be confused in this environment and lack of visibility.” Nodding his assurance, the aide continues “Aye, Captain. The scout actually heard one of the troop ask where Lady Obelyn was supposed to meet them. He was promptly cussed out by a fellow in the troop, but that makes the scout confident they are actually from House Obelyn.”

Pondering his next move, Captain Maulkin signals into the smoke and a few flashes of light wink back at him. Turning to the rest of his aides as they gather around him, he takes a look at the map attached to the back of one of his men. “Okay, the Dalisons are pretty much broken. They still fight and think they hold this ground, but we have holes and entry points everywhere. We know this ground much better than they do, which makes me think they didn’t plan this massive fire which gave us such great opportunity.” A snort interrupts him briefly, causing a pursing of his lips to which his men suddenly straighten and become deadly serious and intent upon his words. “We don’t have much to fear from the Rodhale troops, while the House has a reputation for being all about combat they are really just glory hounds and better suited to the tournaments. In a real fight, they are clueless babes. Plus most of their best men are still in Corvale toadying up to the useless King.”

As various heads nod in agreement with this assessment, the Captain gives his orders “We must teach the Obelyn House that they are no longer the second most important House in the Kingdom. They already have plans upon the throne, and think they will take advantage of this chaos to position themselves and take what they already believe is theirs. I can see their thought, since they have so carefully positioned themselves over the past two decades. But our Lords have different plans, and this is our first time to show them a glimpse of the new order.” Looking around at his aides, the Captain waits until each of his dusty and tired men make eye contact. “We must do this subtly and completely. We are not yet ready to show our true plans or goals. Most of the Houses think we just want this country side, and do not realize the strength of our ambition. With our brethren in House Seymore, we will show them the errors of their ways but not just yet.” A pause here, for effect. “We will wipe this Obelyn company off our God’s earth, and then plant the bodies of the Dalisons at the scene so that when the Duchess finally does arrive to meet her troops she will have to take action against someone other than ourselves.”

As his men break apart to start giving orders and signals to the massed troops hiding in strategic places across the ruined battlefield, the Captain gives himself a small brief moment of emotion. A twisted smile pulls at his downturned lips for the briefest moments as he contemplates the future. “This is OUR Kingdom, they just don’t know it yet.”

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

A Fallen Knight...

Fog curls out from beneath the gnarled tree roots and gently caresses the ground as it spreads forward to embrace the earth. Broken rays of sunlight trickle down through the cluttered branches to sparkle delicately in the gray cloud covering the ground. For a brief moment it seems as if all of the world has fallen into an enchanted slumber.  Then hoarse shout rises distantly from within the thicket of trees and is soon joined by a great number of screams. Birds burst dramatically into the air to blend their shrieking calls with the deathly din they are eagerly escaping. Wearily, a battered face turns towards the outburst with calculating eyes; wiping glistening beads of sweat from his face, Sir Leon motions to a waiting squire who refills his water-skin as the Knight strains to make out the sounds of battle.

“It’s the Seymour’s yellow coated brigands again, I reckon” a nearby soldier helpfully interjects to break the quiet reflection. The Knight nods as he returns “But whose men are they butchering now?” which causes everyone to fall silent again. The sounds of battle drift from the distant conflict for a few more minutes before slowly fading away into an eerie calm. Tilting his head back, Sir Leon looks up at the makeshift watch tower his men had completed just the previous night. A slight movement on the wooden construction and then a head peers over and makes eye contact with the Knight. “Can’t see diddly, Sir. No idea where they are, or how many there are.”

A muffled groan might have been heard as the Knight looks around at his remaining men. Keeping an outward appearance of calm, he nods solidly to those who manage to meet his eyes though he is inwardly raging. Curse whatever bloody fools light the entire grasslands on fire, he mentally shouts to himself. A pox and a curse and all of the boils of Satan’s torment burn their souls for eternity! We might have stood a chance until a prairie fire sets a beacon out to the whole world and conveniently blocks any line of sight or ability to watch or scout for movement. 17 ambushes in just two weeks, who ever heard of a Knight being caught unaware that often? A few nervous glances from his squires makes Sir Leon realize that his face was betraying his inner turmoil again, which he resolves by stiffly turning and making another round of their precarious encampment. Occupying himself by taking a quick internal roll call, the Knight is almost crushed by the realization he has only twelve men left. Twelve men out of a fierce seventy man regiment so widely respected that many fights stopped simply because they arrived.

The moment the fire became apparent, every House around rushed to wipe the other off the planet under the cover of the ash darkened skies. Finding soldiers in yellow and green was not surprising, as the Seymour and Gainesford Houses had already been encroaching on Dalison land. But mixed in with those bodies, not only had he found the reddish brown of his own Dalison House but also the light cyan of the Rodhale, and also the deeper red of House Andrews. Probably all Houses have a quick tongued gent on hand with the King to explain the “mistaken identity” or “accidental death” for any conflict that could actually be witnessed and proven in the King’s court. And nobody had heard word of that minor House that was poking around before the fire started. So much for their vaunted help that they offered, he snorts to himself, some rumors even have them as the reason that the fire started. I wish I knew what they really wanted and why they decided to wipe the Dalison House off the world.

Sudden alarm breaks into his thought process and he stiffens in shock as his mind frantically does a double take. “Alarm!” he barely manages to get out before the trees around him erupt into a flurry of weapons swinging at his face. I walked right past that guy and never realized he was just standing there in the shadows. Time has frozen for the briefest of moments as he rebels against accepting the sight in front of him. Not the Black! They never surround or take prisoners, just kill us all with no warning or reasoning. They aren’t from here, some say they are from Hell. Why must it be them, why can’t it be a House?

All these thoughts flit through Leon’s brain in a lightning fast moment before combat shuts down any further extraneous thoughts. Quickly twisting with the grace of years of practice, Leon flips his shield sideways and manages a quick bump against an incoming sword. Rotating his head in an awkward angle, he is barely able to catch a second thrust against the strong crest of his helm. Using the momentum of his twist, his right arm strains muscles in a painful movement but succeeds in clearing his sword from his scabbard and sending a darting thrust towards the black armored opponent.  Screams and shouts fill the air but sound seems compressed to the Knight as he focuses on pure survival.

A single lasting second hangs in time before the two blackened blades flicker frighteningly quick towards Leon. An efficient sidestep puts his shield once more right in the perfect path to blunt a sword strike, but this time his attempt to dodge is not quick enough and the second sword catches on his shoulder plates. Metal shrieks as a few chains snap beneath the weight of the blow and blood vessels burst in protest, however his skin does not break and the fight must continue. Moving into his blow, the Knight flings a quick side-hand slash that is easily dodged by his nimble opponent. Hard earned experience has prepared Leon for his tactic however and he manages to shuffle forward just a bit during the exchange.

The roar of blood pounds a drastic beat in his ears, drowning out the sounds of his men behind him. Knowing that they fought the black devils, Leon lets slip a brief snarl of despair and grief for his loyal men dying at this moment. Even a brief slip is too much against such spirited foes and a dark blade connects solidly against the side of his helmet and forces his eyes shut against the ringing. Dalison Knights are respected throughout the entire Kingdom for their training and old legends, and this one refuses to go down so easily. Gritting against the pain, the blind man relies entirely on instinct born of training and experience. Unconventionally swinging his sword low towards the dirt, he waits a heady and full microsecond before flicking his wrist upward with all of the strength that he has left in his battered body.

Bitter raging lust courses through his veins as the impact of steel upon heavy flash ripples through his muscles. A killing blow, he knows even though his eyes refuse to open. Elation and horror melt together inside his emotions as sweet droplets of blood course down his face. In his enlightened sense, Leon feels the presence of several bodies closing on his position. A snarl of pure determination rips through clenched teeth as he whirls and spins into the mass of bodies approaching him. Laughing the last laugh of a doomed man, he revels in the screams and grunts as his shield and blade clash and smash into his enemies. Unfeeling, unaware, he ignores everything around him and surrounds to the rage and anger and bliss of knowing there are no more cares.

A bright light seems to dance in his mind, guiding him through each step of this delicate and maddening dance. Oh Lord of Creation, I entrust myself to You. Take my last confession, feel my sins and absolve me. Let me dance with You this night and sup from Your cup. I dedicate this glorious moment to You, let my name live on in glory forever. And as this last prayer bubbles out of lips brimming with blood, his body finally loses its battle. With a slow and sweeping spin, he slowly buckles to his knees and then begins a glacial fall to the ground. One last breath breaks free of collapsing lungs and his eyes finally work again, giving him one last glance of his final battlefield.

As the world spins in on itself, his mind is already fleeing but has time to mark the positions of two black suits of armor crumpled at one corner of the field and another one a few feet down. From those bodies lead a set of bloody footprints in an erratic pattern through a broken pile of brown armored bodies. The last sight seared into the Knight’s eyes are the footprints ending directly beneath him.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Deadly Dance

A clang of steel, a guttural snarl, and the dance has begun yet again

Spurs spark against rock as nimble ankles twist and spin

Fangs flash through the air, two foes each preparing for battle akin

Sword and shield clash with tooth and claw, creating a furious din

One battles for honor and glory, to show his people his heart

The other is in this fight for survival, losing would mean death

A graceful twirl and elegant strike show a stunning art

While a desperate strike and slick retreat reveal a lost breath

A classic tale unfolds, armored Paladin against scaled Dragon

The question becomes then, who will write this story

History is written by the victors, often over a full flagon

The loser might protest, but his body looks a little hoary

With a majestic flap of wings, the dragon concedes this fight

While the Paladin slumps against the rock, relief upon his brow

A trumpeting note sounds forth, a farewell as the beast takes flight

Softly sighing, the Paladin stares into sky and whispers a gentle “Ciao”

Friday, May 2, 2014

A thrice bitten Kingdom

The Kingdom of Corvali is a Kingdom of Three.

By that, I mean that the number 3 appears so many times in Corvali society that it is almost seems like destiny. 

The Kingdom is one of three Kingdoms on the known continent. It has three separate major Factions, who vie for political power while headquartered in one of the 3 major Cities in the Kingdom. In fact, the synergy with the number three extends even to the Royal Family due to the King having 3 sons vying to be his Heir.

The Kingdom is like any other, with its own ups and downs, strategies, politics, struggles, desires and goals. Its people are a complete mix, with the landed Noble Houses lording over their serfs and passing their superior airs over the merchants and guildsmen. The peasants work and toil and grumble and occasionally better their lifestyle but generally live and die in obscurity. Peace has reigned in Corvali for nearly 50 years, and everyone has settled into the way that life is and forgotten some of the aspects of fear and lost the will to stay alert. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer, the Church laments all things that lower profits and encourages piety by allowing coin to gain grace in Heaven.

It is into this docile yet frustrating world that our intrepid heroes are born. And it is this elaborate and scheming world which I open up to your perusal.

Consider this world in its medieval age, though there will be some differences from our own history and the way that things work. I will try to address the setup of the Kingdom and how society and the nobles work. As this story is still in the beginning stages, I am open to all suggestions on how things are progressing. 

The Story is only focusing on a single Kingdom at the moment - the other 2 are dark and mysterious and even those who inhabit our favored Kingdom do not know much about their neighbors.

Corvali is the small Kingdom on the bottom right, it is the one with the Dark pencil marks to show the King's Highway, the major road which connects the 3 major Cities.

The circle with the Star in it is the Capital City of Corvale, the S stands for Stoneden which is the major industrial and manufactoring hub and the one far down on the bottom along the coast is the port city of Hythe which rules the seas and is the home of the merchants.

Thursday, May 1, 2014


Never experienced this myself, however -- I like the parody :)

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Half Author/ Half DM - All Nerd

As an Author - you are in full command and control. You decide what each character is doing and what he or she think and feel. You dictate how they respond to situations and can use your amazing powers to make storylines meet and arcs come together. The characters can be clueless and miss things that your audience catches, or they can be intelligent and make the wise move in a sea of bad ones. 

As a Gamemaster (also known as Dungeon Master or DM) you are in ... some command and control. You are the storyteller, responsible for the plot and keeping things moving. Responsible for giving players a reason and incentive to keep playing and providing them with stories, characters, and antagonists to interact with and react to, so that they continue to develop and grow and play the game. You lose control of a set number of characters that are played by the others in the game, those feelings and emotions and actions are controlled by the players and you just have to go with it and have the world react and bend to them. Being a GM (gamemaster for those who got lost) that tries to make the players bend to the world generally just leads to frustration for both sides and a very short game. It is much tougher to be a DM, but in some ways it is easier because some of the content is generated by others and you don't have to decide every single decision and dictate every single action.

I am trying to do both, at the very same time -- in the very same world.

While I enjoy the aspect of creating a world for Novels at the same time as being the storyteller or gamemaster for a RPG in that game… it does lead to a lot of headache and effort that I just can’t seem to summon lately.

The weekly arguments with players who want to rule the world without effort and to endlessly defeat any bad guy they run across is a constant drain. It is absolutely insane how I can go from thinking that I am best gamemaster on the planet for my slick storytelling and way that I got the entire party involved to the next week wanting to be done with it all and never have to try to please these stinking selfish players every again.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell a player that the world is harsh and mean that most people die at a young age and that they are already overpowered and have the best armor and weapons and skills and stats compared to anyone in the world --- they still want more! At heart, every gamer plays just to win. That is the driving force behind why we play in the first place, so we always try to find the cleverest best way to defeat a situation and we must always win and come out on top.

It is funny how playing a console game never brings the level of frustration that a tabletop RPG elicits, in the latter it always seems like it is our own ideas that are being shot down- not just a command we chose out of a generated list of possibilities.

To my current players - bear with me. I have to change the world often as you veer off in unknown directions and disrupt my carefully placed applecart. And please understand that the world sometimes won't just stop and let you have what you want when you want - I haven't experienced that in life and our current game is based on reality and not strictly fantasy (like Dungeons and Dragons or some other games that come to mind).

To my readers - join in and encourage me. It helps so much to hear ideas from my friends and those who read what I write. I may tease and joke when you do mention something, but inside it helps so much. 

To the future!


I have become daunted by my own story.

The stakes have risen so much, battlegrounds extended, the plot skyrocketed. And now to be able to fully grasp and pull everything together in the correct sequence and keep things enjoyable for all… I have to spend entirely too much of my time documenting and translating some of my previous notes into something useful and easy to combine into an actual situation and metric.

While I may be able to remember in my head that I had this character betray his faction and run this direction, when it comes time to actually interweave the faction story arc, will I remember who he spoke to and who was in town at that time?

I dislike having to retroactively go back into my story and generate the names of the nobles and etc who would have witnessed events and thus reacted to them but I forgot that originally. So I am trying to plan out each Noble House and all of the people who serve it and where they are and keep up with those people as each week advances plotlines and the RPG game that we are playing in this world also advances things.

However, the task of keeping all of that noted, generated, reasoned, logicked, backgrounded and the like is so daunting. My mind actually shuts down and runs away and then I am left feeling very upset with myself because I know that I should be working on this and keeping things in easy progress or I will lose my place and my head. Knowing that doesn’t seem to be adding to my willingness to sit down and put everything together and push it over to the computer instead of being in 2040592 hand written notes (a possible exaggeration there).

Oh, what to do? What have I done to myself?

Not only do I need to get approximately 357 characters, backgrounds and plotlines together but I also have another 17 organizations within the Kingdom that I have to develop their plots and reasoning and desires and activity. The world can’t just stand still since the protagonists are in a little town instead of interacting with the world.

Star Wars 7!!!

Ever since meeting the beautiful lady that has become my wife, my life has taken a very sudden and drastic Star Wars nerd turn.

She enjoys Star Wars so much, that I happily stowed my classy geek and went full out to learn and experience more Star Wars in my life.

Since that time, we have watched every Star Wars movie, played every Star Wars game, played various Star Wars roleplaying games - SAGA is still the best!, journeyed forth into the expanded universe and created a Star Wars Library of our own...

And now comes the exciting news of the Star Wars movie finally coming to fruition!

We are both disappointed at the direction that Disney decided to go in distancing itself from the Expanded Universe (now labeled the Legends), however ... Its Star Wars!!! Who can't be happy to see anything related to Star Wars? (Erh.. besides the Ewok movie that is).

And so I forward you to this wonderful post by IGN which breaks down the announcement of the Cast of the next movie, which is a tremendous step in actually getting this movie made so I can spend all of my time and money on it. Woohoo

Star Wars 7 Cast

A loosening of the Guard (and my tie)

When I first started this blog, I intended it just to be an area where I can post my short stories or transcripts as I get up the energy to translocate them over to this media. I didn't intend for much of an audience and I definitely wanted it to be a little aloof and not include my personal thoughts or information and be strictly for writing.

However, I find that I do not post much here when it is just about writing. A lot of my writing is done elsewhere, and not on the computer and so I find myself lacking the desire or energy to go back over something and type it out and then put it into a blog post. Plus, I am a true and total nerd or geek and thus have a ton of interests and things that interest me that I would like to share in the hopes one or two more people might have a giggle or an interest.

So, this is fair warning that going forward you may be subject to many random posts (or none at all, oh my) on various subjects and not neccesarily just stories.

If you object to this change, feel free to let me know in the comments - but that means you would have to actually read this blog first and from the stats on my dashboard, I know there is almost know threat of that. HA!

Also, I am much more active on twitter- so feel free to follow me there.


Thursday, April 10, 2014

What the heck is Corvali?

Recently I posted a few short little posts about some characters and events that are unconnected to anything else I have posted on this blog. My apologies for not explaining first.

Let me introduce you to Corvali - my current love afair with a new fantasy world that I am creating. This world is serving multiple purposes, currently I am working on writing a series of Novels based on this characters and also running a roleplaying game based on these concepts. I have some family and friends assisting me by playing the roleplaying game to help me flesh out the characters and the world. It is amazing how many new concepts you can come up with when you are staring at people who are demanding answers to why they can't do this or that. I have found that doing this simultaneous is both awesome and terrifying.

By having a weekly deadline (we play the game at least once a week), I HAVE to push myself. No laziness or stepping away from the creativity board, instead I must think and come up with ideas and advance the plotline. Otherwise, there are people who could actually beat me up! No author has faced that threat in quite some time, ha.

Plus having real live people react to a plot development can really help you see just how silly it is that your main character has a talking sword that likes pizza. So scratch that idea. It really does help sometimes to let someone else do the talking and thinking, allowing the players to try to solve a riddle sometimes gives me a new avenue for the novel characters to use -- and allows the evil villains more ways to spite our intrepid heros.

Corvali is my imagination running wild into an area I always wished someone else had already delved and provided to me. It is a fantasy medieval timeframe world... but things just work slightly different than our own history. I use the term medieval to help place our modern minds in the right demeanor and technological reference. But not to actually use the real history or way the world works, not every maiden is blushing or easy to be taken by the first Knight in shining armor.. etc.

There is no magic in Corvali, so don't expect monsters and wizards and fantastical creatures. Instead the world lives and breathes, the people react and move and have thoughts and feelings and desires just like you and I. There is a big difference though, the world of Corvali is much more dangerous than ours, with the average lifespan barely crossing the 40 year threshhold. So expect plenty of danger and death to be available to characters hated and beloved alike.

Stay tuned for further updates and I will try to explain the situation and the world in more detail soon

An Ominous Warning

Thunder rumbles from a distant point, but no rain clouds show in the sky. Blinking against the blinding glare of the sun, a young guard shakes his head ponderously in confusion before realizing that something else was making that noise. Turning to peer up the road, he takes a few moments to confirm that he is hearing hoof beats approaching at a very furious pace. Bewildered, he mutters to himself “The Squire and the Baronet’s people are all at the Baronet’s manor... Who else rides a horse around here?” and then decides it would behoove himself to actually do the duty that got him assigned to this gate.

Stepping out in front of the gate, he swings the heavy wooden planks closed and signals to his companion to actually climb up and man the watchtower in case it is an enemy making all of that racket. Shifting a bit to settle his clothes, the young man squares his shoulders and attempts to appear fierce as the first glimpse of the approaching animal and rider appears around the curving path. Dirt erupts in a rolling wake of splatters as the heavy horse careens dangerously along the narrow path and heads directly towards the nervous guard.

Summoning every last bit of courage he can find in his skinny frame, the young man licks his lips and calls out a challenge. Stammering, he attempts again while trying to figure out if he should draw his sword or just run. Luckily he is not alone and the guard now atop the watch tower fires a warning arrow into the dirt alongside the rider’s trajectory. Taking a timid step back, the gate guard feels a great sense of relief as the rider rears back on the reins and the horse begins to slow. In what seems like an eternity in the widened eyes of the guard, the horse slowly pulls up and slows the galloping approach to end with a snort close enough to lick the sweat off the man’s brow.

With a quick flourish, the rider drops from the horse and sneers at the presence of the guard. “Messenger Dispatch, you fool” he exclaims as he spits on the ground in disgust. “Have you lost your wits?” The guard stiffens at the insult and imperiously demands to know “Messenger from whom?” as sternly as he can manage. For all of his bravado, he receives a scornful look and a vicious retort “Are you daft? It doesn’t matter from whom, I come here just to warn this town of major events. And if you want to be the reason that your town is not ready for the King, then so be it.” And with that, the messenger turns and acts as if he is about to mount his horse and depart.

Wait, wait, wait.” The guard hastily exclaims as he realizes just how important this visitor could be. “Uh, you have any papers to show who you are?” he asks and sheepishly explains “We have a lot of anxious people in the town since we keep being attacked, they want to make sure we aren’t be tricked”. A massive sigh erupts of the erstwhile messenger as he pulls back his cloak to reveal the markings of a Hythe City courier. “Listen,” he grumbles “I don’t have time for all of this nonsense. I don’t really care about your little Podunk town nor all of its nervous citizens and scared farmers. I am just coming to let everyone on the way to Stoneden know that the King is coming.”

Stopping to take a breath, he first demands some water for his horse and then continues as the guard scurries to obey. “Apparently the King is tired of this talk about bandits and about all of the different Houses fighting and bickering, so he is sending out a major complement of the King’s army to march through the land and put down any problems that arise.” Taking the proffered bucket, the weary man holds it in front of his horse and speaks loudly to be heard over the sound of the guzzling equine.  “Hythe was taken by surprise, and it’s not good because there was a lot of fighting going on. I was just sent to get here as quickly as possible and let everyone know so that they can get their affairs in order before someone questions things too closely and bad things happen. I have heard rumors that the Army is just putting on a show and laying down the law without really caring who is at fault or what the real story is.” 

Handing back the bucket, he grips the pommel of his saddle and swings effortlessly into place. “I must go, but warn your leaders to get ready. I feel some big changes are coming this way, at least for those involved in politics.” Turning his horse to head back down the path, the messenger offers a wry smile to the nonplussed guard “Though I fear not much will change for the common man, life just is not fair that way”.

Silence descends over the clearing where the path and gate intersect, both guards stand slack jawed and watch as the messenger rides off around the bend. A few moments pass without any movement before the gate guard suddenly gulps loudly and turns to stare at his fellow in the watchtower. Confused eyes meet and betray mutual worried expressions, then the gate guard suddenly yelps and races into the town looking for the nobles to pass along this most important message.

A Setting Sun

As the sun slowly fades below the horizon, the air is filled with the terrible sounds of death. A black shroud slowly descends to cloak the blood soaked meadow where thousands of bodies lie in a chaotic tangle. Moans and groans are the only sounds audible from these bodies, though the myriad birds feasting upon still warm flesh assault the ears with a cacophony of raucous calls.

Staring blankly at the carnage from the edge of a once peaceful meadow, a haggard survivor struggles to keep his composure as his mind fails to process such horrible devastation. Slowly turning a slim profile to view the warriors resting behind him, he utters soft orders. “Teratha, let’s get the wounded moving and give Last Peace to those who can’t survive the trip.” Turning from the black haired priestess, he then addresses a wounded soldier resolutely standing at his side. “Lyet, we have to get back and tell the Emperor. He needs to know that all is lost and we must sound a retreat”. The soldier’s eyes widen at hearing that; he is not surprised by the fact as it a truth that they have all come to recognize, but he is more surprised at hearing his superior actually admit it out loud.

As the small band of wound soldiers slowly gathers themselves and prepares for an arduous trek, the leader turns one last look at the ghastly battlefield. “To think, the entire might of the Arkhold people will soon be spread amongst the carrion birds. May history never know the truth of this defeat.” With that he reaches down to pick up his equipment, a battered shield and a well-used battle-axe. A moment of reflection is spent gazing at these few pieces of metal that have so defined his entire adult life. No longer is his visage keenly reflected on the polished edges of the shield, nor does his axe bear the shimmering marks of the marvelous Adante metalworking. Instead they appear worn and torn, almost as if some ancient tribe had buried and lost these artifacts several centuries in the past. Realizing that his life now would be very different than it has been in the past, he actually drops the shield in the dirt and almost drops his axe before Lyet reaches over to stop him. “Hold, my lord Baratel,” mutters the young brunette, “We still have need of your strength in arms should we meet more barbarians on our trip to the Emperor.”

Baratel hearkens to the words of his junior officer, though he nearly demands to know what point there is in fighting the barbarians. Grudgingly, the small group forges onward through the branches of the forest and sets their sights to a distant point in the east. Hours blend into days and then weeks as they journey south, each day appearing to rise only to give them less reason to carry on. The air hangs heavy with smoke, laden with the horrifying stench of burnt flesh. Countless villages appear on the edge of the path they travel, but all are ransacked and destroyed; little remains of the vast Empire which once gracefully spread across the plains and mountains. Instead they face only reminders of their great failure, evidence that the time of the Arkhold Empire has come to a close. 

Gripping his battle-axe with bitter fierceness, Baratel mentally swears to protect the last remnant of his people until they can recover from this travesty and once again fill this world with true civilization. Gentle golden rays of sunlight caress his face for a last brief moment before the sun sets, almost as if abandoning the Arkholdian people entirely. As gloom settles, it matches the feeling in the heart of all civilization, and the question is left hanging against the flickering glower of the moon. “What will become of the Arkhold Empire and its people? Will history ever know that they existed?

Where did Time go?

I think about this blog every single day, I promise. I think about it and I think "I should really post an update and let people know what is going on" ... and then I look up and the last time I post is 2 months ago *sigh*

I know that the number one rule to actually gaining followers on a blog is to constantly provide updates.. and I want to! But then I get busy and my mind moves on to my next character or my next plot point and I lose the thought, desire, energy to spend time pouring words into a blog that barely anyone reads any more (because I quit posting!).

So I apologize to anyone who stumbles across these words, I hope to have more for you soon. Please don't abandon me, please send me good thoughts and maybe comment or two. The more reaction, the more that I know I am not wasting my time and so I will actually spend more time here. Yay

Thursday, February 13, 2014


Due to a recent conversation with a few friends and allies. I might be considering resuming posting my writing and ramblings here. I have so many stories and ideas in my head, perhaps it might be time to share a few with those who dare to read this blog.

I know that I should warn you now: I have a very self efacing humor. So please bear with me and understand that I am laughing at myself, that way you don't have to *Smile*

Before I get into sharing all of my deep dark secrets and the machinations and plots roaming through the grey matter in my head, let me share with you some cool things that I have found over the past few years. That way you can have some fun supporting awesome projects and add a little sunshine to your life as well.

First and foremost, I found Kickstarter. Its AWESOME. It allows those of us who lead ordinary lives to actually invest in nifty projects that are the heart and soul of others and be a part of the change that we want to make in the world. New businesses, games, tools, art, music, all of it!

Let me share a few that I personally liked: Artisan Dice

Some nifty customizable figurines for gaming


(Maybe you figured out that I was not joking about being a gamer )

And my favorite! The world of Kingdom Come


The Kingdom Come Kickstarter really resonates with me-- because I have been working on creating a world just like that! I have quite a few little stories of my medieval world in my head, but I am so jealous that the studio in that video and Kickstarter is able to live that dream. More power to them.

Should people actually start paying attention to my blog again, I might just be tempted to regale you with the exploits of the Paladin, the Trooper, the Sith, the Warlord, King Beardion the DragonLord, and The Kingdom of Cronali. (yes, all different stories in different venues)