March 29 2012
The
Making of a Rebel
Jaroth looked at the door in front of him. It was an old
oaken thing that stood in front of him like a silent sentinel. To jaroth the
door almost seemed to be questioning him; asking if jaroth actually had the
resolve to open it.
If he did there was no going back to his old way of life.
That didn’t matter he had nothing to go back to. It was all jaroth could do to
pick himself up and move foreward. As he placed his hand on the door he
recalled what had brought him here.
His father had died a war hero. He gave his
life to save the southron aliance from the demon hordes, but that no longer
mattered. The aliance was no longer what it had started as. It was initially a
series of free states devoted to the preservation of mankind. The demons had
been repelled and there was peace. For a little while. Then with out an enemy
the majority of the armies disolved except for a reserve force at the citadel
in Illiath. This reserve force had become the order of white, an organization
devoted to the peace keeping of the aliance and to the eradication of demons to
keep them from getting strong enough to pose a threat to humanity again. At
least that’s what it had started as. Before long there were white knights in
every town. In jaroths home town of alvor the knights were rude, cocky. Not all
were like that but enough to count. Eventually the people of alvor got tired of
their prescence and ran them out of town.
That’s
when everything started. Illiath soon
sent more men to quell the uprising. The fighting was minimal at first but
things escalated so quickly that there was no time to control it. Then It
happened. The massacre. The soldiers were in town square, preparing to execute
a “dangerous insurgent”. The owner of the local tavern, because he apparently
housed those who would fight with the soldiers. The towns people were not
thrilled about this. They argued with the knights. Raised voices soon turned to raised swords.
The soldiers were reluctant to attack at first, but then the tavern owners son
drew a knife and stabbed one of the soldiers. All hell broke loose then. The
soldiers began fighting and slew everyone in the square, at least those who
couldn’t run fast enough.
Jaroths
mother had been in the square that day, that was two days ago, and now here he
was. He was at an old building outside the town. One the insurgents were now
using to rally their forces. Dozens of men had come to fight. From farmers to
veterans from the last war. Jaroth had heard there were only a few dozen now,
but more people from other towns were on their way.
3 February 2012
Albino
Fire
The horse Allaster was riding was a chestnut
bay horse that had recently been taken from a group of travelling merchants. It
was a strong and sure footed creature. The beast was young and trodded through
the under brush with ease.
The origin of the creature made
Allaster think back to when he had been first taken in by the brotherhood,
nearly 10 years ago. He was being taken to the citadel in Elyria when the
bandits had taken their caravan. Allaster was the only survivor, and the
bandits had taken him as one of their own. He had learned to shoot a bow from
Notch, and how to wield his alchemy from the old man. The old man had been his
closest companion, despite the fact that Whitebeard was pushing 100 years old.
That
old prune groomed me to take his command, he knew he was dying and still he put
so much effort forth in training me. Allaster sighed at the memory of his
death, the old man had called Allaster into his chambers, and gave command of
the Brotherhood to him.
“Why put me in charge you old
bastard, why not Simon or Notch?” Allaster muttered into the air, hoping that
maybe the trees would be able to enlighten him. Both of the other bandits were
older, stronger, and wiser; the only thing that Allaster had that they didn’t
was his alchemy, and even that would never be enough for him to beat either of
them in a fight.
Notch was so skilled with a bow that
he could easily put an arrow through Allaster’s eye from 200 yards away. He was
known by those outside the brotherhood as Sureshaft. Notch told all the newer
recruits that his name had been earned from the hundreds of women he had
bedded, but it really stemmed from the fact that many of the common folk
believed that he had once pinned a fly to a tree from 300 yards, without
killing the insect. The older members of the Brotherhood knew that such a thing
had never happened, but that did not stop Notch’s boasts.
Simon was a much different sort of man from
Notch, whilst Notch was loud boisterous and the first to down a mug, Simon was
quiet and sober at all times, before he had taken command of the Brotherhood,
Allaster had never spoken with Simon. Where the blade was concerned, Simon was
the greatest swordsman in the brotherhood; some even said he was the greatest
warrior in all the free cities. There were many rumors concerning his origin,
some said he was a sellsword before joining, others say that he had fought in
the last great war between the cities and he had been a general. None were sure
of his origins, but Allaster trusted him with his life.
It had been Simon who had first come
to him to report these bone sites.
1 May 2012
Bananas:
The Wonder Food
Now it’s obvious that god created the world and no form
of proof is as irrefutable as The Bible, but for those few doubters I have one
piece of evidence that is sure to sway the thoughts of all those god forsaken
atheists towards the notion of intelligent design.
For this I would like to take a look at the humble
banana. Is there any better form of evidence for god’s existence than the
banana? It is truly the perfect fruit. The banana was obviously made for
humans. What’s that? You are wondering what’s so special about this wonder
fruit? Well pull up a chair and let me explain.
Bananas are curved, and the human hand is curved.
Coincidence? Evidence for evolution? I think not. The curve of the banana
perfectly matches the curve of the human hand. They fit together nearly
perfectly, to top off the perfect fit of the curve there is also the fact that
if you examine the ridges on a banana you would see that there are three along
the backside and two along the front. This coincides perfectly with the number
of joints in the hand. The back three fit perfectly into the grooves formed by
the joints of your fingers, and the front two ridges fit flawlessly into the
bends of your thumb.
To add to these already insurmountable evidences of
intelligent design, there is also the peel of the banana to consider. It is non
slip and keeps the food securely in your hand. It can even be used as an
indicator for the ripeness for the scrumptiosness for this fruit; Green, its
too soon, brown, its too late, but yellow is good to go. There is also a tab at
the top of the banana that allows for easy access to the delicious and
nutritious interior of this wonder food.
Speaking of nutrious I should tell you about all the
great health benefits that bananas have to offer. Bananas are high in vitamin c
and potassium. They are also low in fat and while they have a bit of sugar it
is the easily digested and used type. If more people ate bananas for every meal,
people would be thinner and as a result I think it could be said that crime
would go down. It’s a simple equation. Eat bananas, get thin and hot. When you
are hot there is no need to be as unhappy as you used to be and as such your
personal desire to say, strangle your co-worker, would likely go down.
All in all I think it is overly apparent that the banana
proves without a doubt that god is up there, bending banana’s to fit the curve
of our hands and filling them with nutrients to make sure we are nice and
healthy.
Some might try to take these proofs and turn them against
me, citing such silly things as the fact that apes eat bananas too, and that
all this perfection means that we changed over time to be better adapted to
bananas, but that is complete bollocks. No man in their right mind can honestly
believe that we evolved from monkeys. Monkeys, because they are obviously
copying us, get together in groups, have male run societys, care for their
young, have similar features and eat simliar foods. Even this fact is more
proof that god made us, because if we were not made in gods image why would
monkeys want to copy us?
Clearly the fact that monkeys and humans are similar means
not that we evolved from them, but that god made us and monkeys are works of
the devil that seek to confuse and manipulate humans into believeing wack-job
theories like evolution. This is shown in a well known documentary entitled
“Planet of the Apes.” Humans must rise up and eradicate these spawns of satan
before they eat all our bananas and corrupt the minds of more innocent people.
Thank you for taking time to read this paper. I hope that
you are wise enough to see that god is real and the banana is proof of it. I
also hope that you are willing to join in the fight to save humanity from
monkey kind. All these things that darwinists cite as proofs of evolution are
acutally proofs of god, if you take the time to think about them logically. If
we continue to let the devil have his way, a planet of apes may not be so far
off.
9 February 2012
Quentin
Quentin sighed and continued flipping through the book of
wards. He knew he should be grateful that he had been chosen to join the Order
of White at such a young age, and yet he could not help but to feel a little
slighted that he had had to spend the last several months studying wards so he
could pass the exams, on top of his training as a White Night.
The Citadel made all students take a rigorous series of
exams before they were allowed to join any of the various covenants in the
world. Quentin had been selected at age 13 to enter into training for the Order
of White, the youngest ever, however in order to join them he first had to pass
the examinations, something most 10th year students had difficulty
doing, and here he was trying to do it in his 5th year.
On the day of his 14th name day he would take
the exams, and provided he passed he would take the tests to join the White
Knights the following day. He was not worried about the Order of White’s tests,
they were field tests in which you had to actually create wards and prove your
skill, and Quentin could handle that, it was the written examinations of the
Citadel he feared.
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S
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leep and Simon were sitting around the fire, waiting
for the next group of travelers to pass by. Sleep was sitting on a log
sharpening his dagger; the sound of stone on steel rang through the air. When
he was finished he sheathed his dirk and said, “Hey barbeque, when ya figure
the next crew will be passing by?”
Simon grimaced at the
name. Half of his face had been horribly burned when he was younger, and
because of this a few of his more daring brothers had taken to calling him
barbeque. “My name is Simon,” he growled “You would do to remember that, and to
remember who is in command here. White
Beard put me in charge here not you, get over it. As
to the next wagon, Tome sent a raven saying that there was a wagon heading this
way from Roth.”
They
were camped on the Yellow road, between the trade city of Paul, and the desert
city of Roth. It was not uncommon for
Simon and his band to set up shop in a place with such lucrative business.
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