It's not TES exclusive. It's for short work--little bits of storytelling, I suppose. Make of it what you will. I've put nonfiction in here, but I think it works because I'm still telling a sort of story, weaving a world in words. But make of it what you will.

Woo... fun stuff there, darkynd. Consistently amusing. I would quibble with word choice and typos (?) here and there, but I love how it all flows together. Did you ever study psychology? You've got me curious now.

Yes, there were instances where I debated over what word to use, and ended up going with maybe one over the other, but generally I was trying for the feel of this strange observer slowly lowering his own facade of professionalism to reveal...sort of a monster, I guess. I imagine the narrator as a undergrad student getting more and more comfortable with his subject, hehe.

As for the typos, there are almost certainly a lot. Some were intentional. I wanted it to feel like thoughts, so it would have to be a bit more herky-jerky but also occasionally run on incessantly.

Enough justification though, there are plenty of instances where argument is warranted.

And, for the record, no, I have never taken psychology. Still waiting to graduate and get to college so I can look into that.

Blackie, your last work shows you're really talented, it's a sheer pleasure to read whatever you put down on paper or a pc..

Continue to share , please do, I just love your writing!

Hey can anyone post something on the writer's guild? It's fine if you can't I was just wondering if you have to ask to join or something.

This post has been edited by Illydoor: Mar 27 2009, 10:55 PM

You are free to join and post at your own discretion, Illydoor, though if you want to consider this post a formal "invitation", by all means do so.

Here's an old piece of mine, something I had once submitted to TR long ago. It's not much and it's very short, but I'm quite partial to the story for some reason. *shrug*

Also, I just realized that I dip into past tense during the last few paragraphs. I know that's usually bad, but I think it works in this story. Please tell me if I'm right.

A Flower's Reflection


As I sat there under the shade of the flower tree, a flower petal falls and lands in the middle of my opened book. It just now occurs to me that I have not done such a thing in quite some time. The petals on the flower, all of them still intact, remind me of the great agony I’ve had to endure over the past ten or so years. It’s something I that don’t like to talk about, yet now here I am, unable to think of anything but those pains that will never truly leave.

Ever since that fateful day with the Fall of the final Dagger, I’ve left the place I once called home in search of a new land, searching for a conclusion to the severing pain that has tortured my soul the second King Gothryd claimed victory-- crowned right on the battlefield after his father had been slain by one of our archers-- over my brethren and I at Cryngaine Field. I had been there when the foggy mist had wrapped around our entire Sentinel army, and I had been still standing once the mist cleared and the duel between the two kings was about to take place. Thanks to the cowardly back-stabbing of the newly-declared King, our great Camaron was slain before the duel ever started. After the battle I left Sentinel without any belongings but a blade and the book I was reading just a few seconds ago. The pain of defeat had been too much for me, and I simply could not stay.

I’ve been through the most dangerous of mountains and I’ve trekked across the wildest of rivers, to at last find my place in a city by the name of Elinhir. Here I’ve found that solitude that I have been so desperately seeking. Through the Falls of Karnver, to the plains of southern Stonedale, and finally at the cool grasslands of Elinhir, I’ve at last arrived at the place that I can call home. A few of the people here thus far have been rather warming, requesting that I eat dinner in their houses and tell stories to their children. Yes, some have treated me with utmost respect, but yet I can sense something else as well from most of the others. It is contempt, a disapproval of my falling out with the Sentinel Army. I can’t say that I blame them, for they can very well call me a coward and there is nothing I can do about it. I did indeed leave the brethren I had fought with and survived with. But…I left because of the brethren had seen fall that disastrous day.

These people of Elinhir, they do not know what it was like as a soldier, at least not one o the mighty Sentinel. They did not see the countless number of bodies fall to the ground, most of them having died before hitting the ground, but the unlucky having suffered before their pains were eternally extinguished. They cannot possibly know what it was like, yet they still judge me as if they’ve always known me. How can this be? How can I be treated so unfairly when I fought so passionately to preserve what I once adored? But…Sentinel is no longer my home, so perhaps I should ignore these people that are trying to bring me down. Though such a sad thought depresses me, it must be true. For my old friends have yet to call upon me, asking me to come home. It is quite possible that these friends decided upon leaving Sentinel, just as I did. Perhaps the pain was too much to bear, just as it had been for me.

Rain is starting to pour down from the skies, but not nearly enough to for me to care. A soldier of Elinhir walks from the city gates, holding his long spear with the tightest of grips. I can tell he wishes not to speak with me, but for some odd reason he does.

“Sir, it is beginning to rain. I think it would be best for you to come inside our city. The walls of the tavern can protect you.”

I did not answer immediately. Rather, I closed the book, with the petal still inside, and then spotted a long and wide piece of wood that had somehow chipped off of the tree. I placed the book on top of the wood and then set the wood into the slender river to my immediate right. I watched it drift along the stream for almost a full minute, and then the soldier asked, “Is everything alright, sir?”

I looked back at him, his young face staring at me with sheer perplexity. And then I answered his question, with the gentlest tone I think he’s ever heard outside of his mother. “Today, tears fall faster than rain.”

This post has been edited by redsrock: Mar 28 2009, 03:29 AM

Thanks Redsrock, I'm happy to be a humble apprentice of this Order.

So where would one post their little parables and yarns and whatnot? Is it on this thread or the other one?

You're welcome to post Here!

Huh?

Also, @ Canis or Minque or whoever: Was I not supposed to post in this thread?

Ehh nope, not really, we have a special thread for the works of the Schola! Follow the link in my previous post!

I'll move your work, don't worry....

Sowwy.

Sorry Redsrock, I meant to say that to Canis.

That's what I thought. I just wasn't sure.

Canis216-

Your latest offering is certainly pleasing to me- and I imagine the good of writers will find it so, as well.

You provide enough detail to allow the reader to visualize and otherwise sense what the protagonist senses. But you also leave enough unspoken to keep us interested.

A touch I particularly liked was the idea of that the hunter could not take game he had not prayed for. He apparently asked Hircine's aid in hunting a bear- therefore venison was not on the menu.

Wonderful.

Oops, were we supposed to comment on here? I put it on the thread! ARGH!

@ Canis216 - your addition to that thread was breathtaking in descriptive detail, and thank you for the necromancy you performed on the thread, look what all we may have missed (us noobs to this site) (me).

And me. Thanks for reviving this, canis (and happy belated, btw). I really liked your story and I am glad to see you return to writing. Three details really stood out:

-The fact that the man (as opposed to the mer, or the ‘beast race’) was able to discern the bear’s length of stride by studying the trail.
-The scraping that drew our attention to the aspens, and the reason that they made the man nervous.
-The approach that the man made from downwind, which enabled him to smell the bear before he saw him.

My only concern is that I think you may have lost a zero in your description of the bear. A two hundred pound bear wouldn’t be much bigger than the man, in my opinion.

It's actually fairly average size for an American black bear, though I probably should have made it a bit bigger, since this is supposed to be a "big black bear".

This post has been edited by canis216: Nov 5 2010, 02:05 PM

Not necessarily.

Female Black bears don't weigh much more than humans, male Black bears run between 125-500 pounds.

We have only Black bear where I live, and they can look little and cute on all fours, then they stand up and start roaring and they are deadly. Their mass is lean muscle, solid bones, and thick fur that protects them from injury. Their claws and teeth (and jaw pressure) are as lethal as any weapon. They may sound little, but people are killed by these Black bears in the Smokey Mountains all the time.


The Grizzly are larger, females run 250 to 350 pounds, Polar bears are the largest.

A 2000 pound bear would be a rarity. The largest individual bear recorded was about 2200 pounds, but it was a male Polar bear, they usually average 800-1600.



This post has been edited by mALX: Nov 5 2010, 02:16 PM

And we all must remember that all bears have very thick pelts, which make them look much, much larger than they really are.

Next time you see a Old English Sheepdog, put your hands on its body to see where the hair ends and the body begins. They're really built more like wolfhounds than like Rottweilers!