Back to the Deep

In the space between heartbeats, Hethir's view changed from the monster's toothy maw to gleaming armor. Struggling to haul himself upright, he saw Trace standing in front of him, shield held up as though he would fend off the massive monster with it. Strangely, it seemed to be working. Golden sparks fizzled and shot away from the shield, and Hethir realized that the knight was using the shield as a focus; blocking with magic and not mere steel. The teeth of the beast continued to grind and gnash on the barrier to no avail. Though as Hethir watched, he could see Trace shaking with exertion. The effort of holding the beast back was clearly taking its toll. "Trace, do you think you could kill that thing if I got you close enough?" Hethir regained his feet shakily, but his gaze was steady again.
"Maybe? It isn't of this world, Lumis will want it destroyed."
"Good enough, get ready."

Under Ancient Stone Part II

Slowly, so incrementally that they had had walked for almost another hundred feet before they noticed, the rough cave floor and walls gave way to ancient hewn stone and solidly placed blocks. After the initial shock had worn off, close examination of the walls began to reveal carvings. First it was just seemingly random chisel marks, but those soon gave way to runes, words, and sentences. Most of the runes were as indecipherable as those on the plinth from earlier; though Cairis was able to pick out a few here and there that bore enough similarity to hazard a guess at their meaning. The one bright spot was that neither Cairis, Alise, nor Tala's devices could detect any hints of magic in the Orrian writings. That however, changed when they found the second plinth.

A total cop-out

I was planning on releasing part 2 of Under Ancient Stone today but, well, the prep I had to do for my game tonight took far longer than I had planned. So yeah, total lame cop-out for today, but it really isn't ready yet. I promise it will be up tomorrow though.

-Matt

Under Ancient Stone

The walls of the cave glittered around them in the slight luminescence let off by Tala's armor. The diminutive Asura was several paces ahead of the rest of them, waving around a device that supposedly would detect any dangerous sections before she stepped on them, Cairis was somewhat less confident in Asuran magic after the last few mishaps with Tala's devices. She claimed to have made great progress since then, but the sections of his hair that still hadn't grown back from being singed off left him not wanting to simply take her word for it.
Behind him were the other two members of their group, Alise and Tor. The Sylvari and Norn moved with incredible silence through the rough cave, leaving Tala clinking and humming rather obviously. Alise's silence was hardly surprising. She barely weighed anything anyway--and Cairis was fairly certain that she was using some manner of air spell to silence her steps even more--Tor on the other hand was at least half again as tall as he was, and at least twice as heavy. Yet the Norn managed to move with all the grace of a dancer, avoiding every bit of loose ground or rubble that could have made any noise. Cairis himself was no slouch when it came to sneaking, but he was more than a bit awed now. He knew Tala much better than these two, having met her some years ago in Divinity's Reach. She supposedly had done work with them before, but what work that might have been was unknown to him.

From Deep Below

Hethir was barely managing to stay ahead of the tentacles and teeth that seemed to endlessly seek after him, but it seemed like he was getting better at avoiding them. It doesn't seem to be trying as hard...
Sparing a moment to glance behind him, he immediately saw why. Dozens of tentacles--and the blinded head--had become tangled up in the rigging, sails, and masts. This would be cause for celebration, except that it was now struggling to free itself, and would soon begin destroying the ship in its efforts.
Mary was casting again, though she was no longer dancing, and her spells were not having quite the obliterative effect of earlier, but the monster was clearly injured.  Garius and Michael had each grouped up a few sailors and set to keeping the tentacles away from the masts as much as possible.
Much as the man seemed like little better than a thug most of the time, Hethir had to admit that Garius had more than earned his pay on the voyage so far. Val had hidden herself in the cabin; a wise choice considering there was nothing she could do to assist in this fight. That left only Trace unaccounted for.

Wave Wreck

The Storm Hawk made progress towards the wreck slowly. Michael was approaching cautiously, letting the wind carry them well beside the wreck before closing on it. If they did need to leave, the wind would be full in their sails. As they got closer, Hethir and the others on the poop deck were able to get a clear look at the destruction which had been wreaked. The ship had once had three masts, but it had been nearly been broken in half by something, and the mast itself was missing completely, only the broken deck and lines indicated where it had once stood.

Stilled Seas

Days passed slowly for the group on board ship. While the nights were still fairly enjoyable for Hethir and Val, the gloom over the ship was nearly palpable. Ironically, the only one that knew exactly what they were sailing towards was almost painfully cheerful.
Nezys had taken to dancing around the  rigging of the ship, her projection gliding easily from one rope to the next. While it was not quite true to say she was singing--the sounds she made were too tuneless for that label--the joy expressed by the notes was unmistakable.

Wanderers in Frozen Mist

Jenn wasn't sure how they had arrived here, in this desolate frozen wilderness, but she was certain that there was a way out. There must be a way back home, back to their lives.

The four of them had been at a cafe, enjoying cocktails before their food arrived, when it started. A strange dense fog bank suddenly rolled in around them, they could hear people around them crying out in confusion and alarm, but their cries became quieter and quieter. Soon they could hear nothing at all, except each other's breathing.
"What's happening?" Chris had demanded, but no one could really give an answer to him.

Death-Walker

The agony is overwhelming, obliterating consciousness, leaving nothing behind in its wake. Gradually it begins to recede, like a river retreating to its banks after a flood. Sheer agony retreats until only a dull throbbing ache remains. My mind slowly rises back to the surface. Memories and thoughts run about madly, and it is several minutes before I can get a thought through the morass.
I have died again... and just like every time before, it has not been permanent.

Storm Hawk's Flight

The information Nezys revealed raised many disturbing questions. She had been sent into the temple to seek out a store of gems that was locked in the temple vaults. While the majority of the gems were confirmed by the Archbishop to be ordinary stones, there were seventeen hidden amongst them that were considerably more.
They were part of a greater focus that had been used by the gods to create the barrier around the world in the ancient past. While Nezys had not been informed of too many specifics, she did know that D had already acquired several of the other necessary implements.

His centuries laid plan was coming to fruition, and they had only discovered it by sheer dumb luck.
Hethir was not confident of their odds anymore.


Unfortunately, the Archbishop seemed to think the best plan was to simply play along with D until they could actually track him down and end him. This meant Hethir was supposed to carry out the job that D had originally hired him for--at least on the surface. So it was that he found himself back on the Storm Hawk with a very particular magical chalice on board, and two sacks of gemstones. All the important gems had been carefully hidden inside a magic-proof safe deep inside the ship, and the Archbishop had laid minor enchantments on seventeen random stones to attract attention to them. Really he had done so masterfully, making it seem as though the enchantments were abjurations meant to shield the gems from detection that had faded over the years and become somewhat more obvious. It would take a detailed look for the enchantments to even be noticed, so it was likely the ruse might hold for a time.
Trace and his companions were also back on the ship, something Hethir couldn't actually decide how he felt about. On the one hand having more competent combatants was rarely a bad thing, and Trace especially would be incredibly useful due his newly acquired deific power. However, their presence seemed somewhat to undermine the ruse that they were attempting to build.
Hethir snarled at their wake as the ship left port. The whole situation was spiraling out of his depth far too rapidly, and he hated being dragged into conflicts that he didn't have a hand in starting.
"I understand why you don't like the Archbishop's plan... I'm not fond of it either... can't we just cut and run?"
Nezys' voice was soft in his mind, their connection allowing for a more subtle touch than most telepathy allowed for. It was much to Trace's consternation when Hethir insisted on taking Nezys with him, and in fact had taken to wearing the sentient sword openly. The Archbishop had been less upset, but wanted to refuse outright as well. The two holy men had not been silenced until Hethir had delivered the ultimatum that if they wanted his assistance, Nezys was part of his price.
"I know it isn't from any misplaced loyalty to that church..."
No, Nezys, it isn't. I will nto be running because no matter my thoughts or policy... no matter how much I don't want this, it is happening. D must be stopped, or this world and everything in it will be destroyed...
"You actually believe that?" Nezys's voice was skeptical.
Beyond a doubt. Hethir sighed and placed a hand on Nezys' pommel.
I felt the geas he laid on you Nezys... the mind that crafted it was not sane, it wants destruction. It desires pain. That kind of mind is not something that should exist, it shouldn't be able to exist, but it does... and it must be stopped.

Nezys was quiet for a moment, though Hethir could feel her thoughts swirling in the steel under his hand.
"Then what about me? What happens when he takes me away and ruins me again... turns me into a twisted thing like he is."
I won't let him... No matter what happens, Nezys, I'm not allowing him to destroy any more of my crew, or my friends. He looked at the sword with a wry grin, if I get lucky I'll also stop him from killing the 'holy men' but we will see just have to see how that goes.

The laugh they shared managed to lighten his mood considerably.

In a Mind of Steel

Consciousness swirled, eddied, and finally stabilized. Hethir could not see his surroundings, but he knew where his mind was.
Nezys...
"What? How are you in here?!"

Shapes, sights and sensations suddenly whirled in a frenzy, and Hethir found himself looking across and endless ghostly landscape. He looked down and was startled to see that he actually had a body. Of sorts, it was more akin to an astral projection than a solid form, but it was still not something he was used to.
"How have you entered like this? No one has ever managed it!"

Not a Clever Title

I usually try to come up with some manner of clever title, but I'm not bothering this time. This will be mostly just a rambling bit of nonsense, but perhaps it will help me to get somewhere; and if I'm lucky someone else else might find it at least mildly amusing.

Of late I have spent my time at work, writing in my journal, eating and sleeping, or playing video games. (Games of choice have been Borderlands 2, DotA 2, and Guild Wars 2... I just now realized they are all sequels...) You will not a distinct lack of working on my actual writing projects in there.
I don't have--and am not going to try to create--an excuse for that, I've just been lazy and unmotivated. I haven't wanted to do much of anything lately, which has been rather terrible. Of things that have attempted to hold my interest and get me to be productive, two I think are meaningful.
It keeps being suggested to me through various people and in various ways that I should try to start a sort of tech support business. Specifically one scaled to individual use and small business operations. Why this seems like a good idea is because of the mass numbers of technologically-challenged people, and the other large mass of people who are tech-savvy, but really don't want to try and explain things to the plebes, or just don't have time to constantly be fixing their friend's machine. So I've been kicking the idea around a bit, trying to get a feel for how it might work--and perhaps more importantly, if I could make money off it without hating every moment of it.
Second thing--which is considerably more interesting--has been a game idea that quite literally sprung into my head almost fully formed. My wife and I have been working on it off and on this week, and I hope to get it into at least a play-testable state by this weekend. I won't reveal too much at this point, but suffice to say it is a card-based game revolving around gaining political influence at court, and uses a tarot deck as the primarily played cards. Provided I can make the game work and balance, I'll start doing play-tests with my gaming friends, and if it actually turns out to be enjoyable at all then I think I might try to Kickstart it into something meaningful.

Aside from these, work has been mind-numbingly boring and exhausting as anything I've ever done. For the longest time I could not figure out how incredibly simple office work could manage to make me so tired, but yesterday I think I finally figured it out. My mind wants to run, but simple office work forces it to crawl.
I need to concentrate on a simple repetitive task until it is finished; unfortunately it is in no possible way capable of actually holding my interest, so I have to constantly exert willpower to force my thoughts back on task. When I have to do this near-constantly for 5 to 8 hours, it becomes a near-painful drain on my energy. If on top of the mindless repetitive tasks I have to try and coordinate and communicate with other people on them, then it just becomes something of my own personal hell. Not only do I need to stay on task; I now have to slow down thoughts to a level that I can interact with coworkers on, and try to explain what I'm doing and why--which is hard enough to do with intellectual people and without any insult intended I do not work with intellectual people.

So long story short, work is way more exhausting than it has any right to be, which leads to me not having energy at the end of the day to force myself to sit and write, or read, or hit the gym, or basically anything else. Something here needs to change... Please?

-Matthew

Hope Deferred

We had staked a lot of our hopes on a job offer that would have more than covered our expenses and given me the freedom to actually spend my time on writing instead of work.

It was turned down at the eleventh hour.

Now we are struggling to decide what to do and where to go. For now I'm trapped at work the same as I have been. Eventually I hope to escape.
Hope for now is deferred in favor of survival. For now I need what energy I have just to get through each day. For now all I can do is pray that the next step in the dark is illumined before my feet. For now... all I can do is keep placing the next foot forward, and trust that there will be solid ground beneath it.

-Matthew