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Swords with Souls: Before You Go B20

Before You Go

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Days pass as Lara focuses on preparing her trip to the Sword Maker. The merchant and carnival owner Haashir and his giant bodyguard Jedreck await her half a day’s ride away. The carnival owner is the only one who is allowed to bring a giant, a dwarf, and other oddities into the city. The king allows it because it demonstrates to the proper people how unlike these others are.

After the first carnival giant had died from a disorder that caused him to keep growing fewer people came to see the carnival. A year later, when Haashir met her grandparents at one of the king’s markets within the castle walls, Hasshir asked her grandfather if he wanted a job. After talking it over with their son, who years later would be her and Gwen’s father, her grandfather agreed. Her grandparents would travel with the carnival while their son took care of the homestead.  Her grandfather wore a wig and fake eyebrows made from bear hair her grandmother had collected from the bark of a tree a bear had used as a rubbing post. With makeup her grandmother made her grandfather look intimidating. Her grandparents didn’t need money so Haashir collected books for them. After three years her grandparents were ready to go home.

Word must have gotten around the carnival needed a new giant.  Shortly after her grandfather retired, Jedreck showed up and volunteered for the position. Jedreck was called The Warlord Giant. The king agreed to this name because he believed it reminded the people why giants must stay in their own land.

Lara remembers seeing Jedreck standing in an open space chopping wood with no one else around. His bronze skin glistened in the light rain. His long black hair blowing in the wind and slapping against his chiseled shoulder muscles and bulging chest. She was in awe. He was nothing like the giants she had seen before. They were usually thin and gangly. Jedreck looked like the perfect proper human. But that all disappeared when some proper humans walked by him.

She thought they were toddlers at first. She had told this story when the ranger Crimthann had stopped by on his travels to share news. She recalls how Crimthann had taken a swallow out of his pewter mug, wiped away the suds, and said in a very ominous tone, “There are giants I see now when I go with the collectors to drop off giants and collect propers that are much taller and stand with a confidence in their eyes that I rarely see. The same with the dwarves. Some of the new breed look like walking boulders. Their chins are held high and they are not afraid to look at the collector’s in the eyes. I don’t know if it’s from inbreeding, dwarves mating with dwarves only, or giants mating with giants only, or if they are mating with people we know nothing about.

‘It could be your fault,’ her grandfather had joked. ‘You warned them to keep their proper children hidden when the collector’s come.’

‘I did,” the ranger admitted. ‘After taking the first few sons and daughters from the dwarves and giants, and seeing the anguish in their parent’s eyes, I did warn them.’

Lara had heard so much lament in the ranger’s choked voice. She recalls her grandmother taking his hand and squeezing it. ‘Luckily, I did the job alone then,’ the ranger continued. ‘The quarter moon ears are another story. They shot warning arrows when I went to collect any propers. But I was able to tell them about the quarter moon babies left for the river to swallow. That was when the old king lived. He wasn’t as controlling or conniving as his son. A lot of what I could say and do in the past isn’t possible now.’   

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Swords with Souls: Before You Go B19

Before You Go

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

It hurts to see this giant of a man fading before her eyes. She remembers asking him when she was a child how he was allowed to live in Damp Wind. His long straw hair was tied back so his wide forehead glistened. He had grinned at her with his thin lips and strong jaw. ‘Well,’ he told her, ‘I was wise. When they measured me, I bent at my knees and shrugged my head into my shoulders.’ He demonstrated it to her. ‘If you stand tall with your chest out and knees nearly locked, you’ll look taller and more intimidating. If you lower your head, sink your chest, and bend your knees just a bit you’ll look smaller and meek.’ In the other room she had heard her grandmother chirp in, ‘If I had done the same, I would have been sent to the dwarves.’

“Lara, my time is almost up.” The lament in her grandfather’s voice hurts so much. “You must do to me what you did to the baron,” he continues.

“No grampa! I won’t!” She remembers the feel of the baron’s hot blood covering her hand and how quickly it became sticky.

“Stay until it’s time,” he pleads. “I have so much more I want to learn and so many stories to tell.”

She looks up at the curved wall at the back of the room. Shelves of lambskin and other skin covered books. “I will stay and hold your hand while you pass, before I go,” she assures him.

“I wish your father and mother could be here, but….”

She knows the story of how her and Gwen’s mother was seduced by their father. He had seen her swimming in a nearby pond and become enchanted. He had to have her. Without her grandmother’s knowledge, their father had made a love potion from one of the herbal books found down the stairs. There was no way of knowing it would actually work but he was so smitten that tried anyway. Day after day their father neglected his duties at home as he learned the daily routine of their mother. Sometimes she lived in a tree, other times she lived under water, perhaps within a cave that led to air. She always drank from a particular spring. One day he poured the entire contents of the potion into the water. For the next six years she was obsessed with him. He brought her mother home to her grandparents. Shocked, her grandparents did their best to pretend nothing was abnormal. Their mother had slits along her upper ribs. She also had pronounced webbed fingers and toes. Her long sinewy hair grew like roots. First, Lara was born then Gwen. When Gwen was two, the potion no longer had effect on their mother. Furious, their mother took their father deep into the woods. She used vines to tie him to a tall maple. Then she cut off some of her silken brown hair and forced it into his mouth. ‘Why do we look average?’ she had asked when she was a few years older. ‘At least on the outside you have your father’s heritage’ her grandmother had told her with a concerned smile.

“Remember what I taught you and Gwen about physics?” her grandfather rasps out.

“Yes Grandpa,” she replies.

“It allows you to do anything, if you live long enough. Books are the knowledge of what has already been learned. Gwen is making copies but you must memories them.”

She watches in horror as he coughs out a streak of dark blood.

“I want to live forever, Lara,” he says in a barely audible voice. “To continue learning and helping.”

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Swords with Souls: Before You Go… B18

Before You Go

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

In the centre of the court is a stone and mortar well with a sloped sod roof. The herbal house has its own cellar. People had asked her grandfather why the mushroom-shaped roofs. She remembers him looking down at the person with a great big grin and replying that it was as close to a dome shape as he could get.

She sees the side of her diminutive grandmother’s mouth twitch. The old woman’s aquamarine eyes shine with relief.

Aminah halts before the old woman and nudges her with a wet nostril.

“It is done Grandma Celima,” Lara says in a parched voice.

“Unsaddle Aminah then come inside to rest,” her grandmother says as she strokes Aminah’s cheek.

Inside the curved wall flicker with shadows made from numerous scented candles. She can just make out the ribbing that holds the roof in its convex shape. Her grandfather is sitting in his padded wicker chair with a quilt covering his thighs. His body shivers even though the fireplace is roaring. Beside the fireplace is her sister Gwen and her nephew Ganesha. Ganesha is playing with a toy in the shape of an animal she has never seen in real life. An elephant her grandparents called it.

“Grampa Stian,” she says before going onto her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. His skin is cool and thin against her lips.

“Lara,” you have returned he says in a raspy voice.

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Swords with Souls: Before You Go B17

Before You Go

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

“Lara, you did it,” her grandmother calls to her as Lara’s horse, Aminah, down the path towards a house constructed of straw and clay. The house is made up of three mushroom shaped abodes connected by external wooden halls and stone and mortar foundations. The entire area around the house was once a mammoth building built of clay and stone. Sections of wall still stand. The floor of the house is made up of broken mosaic flooring that her grandfather leveled and used clay to fill in the gaps and cracks. Her grandparents told her and her sister that large rocks used to dot the grounds.

Behind the house and not visible from where she sits a top Aminah, are two similarly shaped but smaller structures and what was once a ruined dome structure with a round hole for a skylight. The dome was built partially into the hill where her grandmother planted a variety of orchards. The herbal house and weaving house are parallel to each other, creating a court with the domed building in the centre.

Within the dome, originally covered in debris is a spiraling staircase. On the walls are shelves full of ancient books and scrolls. The stone stairs end at a swinging bridge whose ropes and wooden planks are too damaged to trust. Her grandparents believe a battle happened on the bridge.

Before he became ill her grandfather planned to fix the bridge and see where it led. It was task for her and her sister now. A natural heat from the chasm which the bridge is believed to cross protects the books and scrolls from rotting. Within the ruined section of the wall is an alcove in which an anvil as high as her waist sits. Deeper in are faded diagrams on sheep skin and mostly rusted tools. Her grandparents oiled the anvil and it now sits with a canvas tarp over it.

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B16

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

After a few months Crimthann had returned to see how Endellion was doing. Once her filthy hair had been washed and the tangles straightened, she looked very pretty. Her long red hair made the green of her eyes shine like emeralds. But she couldn’t stay, her ears were pointed. That would be a death sentence if the wrong person found out. Infants with pointed ears were considered dangerous and were placed on reed rafts to be swallowed by the nearest river. Far in the past, all leaders had pointed ears. They were known for longevity and to be superior individuals with little patience for their inferior subjects. Nowadays, all but the most radicalized parents had any children with pointed ears sent to the dwarves or giants who took them to live with the quarter-moons in the far north. These days, she knew commoners tried to keep births secret until they knew the newborn’s appearance.

The hostel business could be fun and welcoming. There were happy occasions when a patron only wanted to see one girl and that girl shared that sentiment. Rarely, but occasionally they were married. She loved those weddings. But there were also devastating moments when a girl hated pleasing a man she did not love. Not often but there were times when a girl would be found dead by her own hands. After it happened twice, she invested, with the help of Sir Oliver, in farmland discovered by his uncle within an open valley deep in the Black Forest not far from his fiefdom. This is where Crimthann and two of the girls brought Endellion. Crimthann assured Endellion she could leave at any time. Now she’s the keeper of the valley. Some of the older women, no longer requested by patrons, also went to the farm. All the girls in the Black Forest Farm had to swear to secrecy. Unavoidably it would get out but maybe there would be a better king by then.

The agreement, was that girls could work there, without harassment, if they didn’t want to be a lady of the night. In the same valley they were also growing grapes. It was a good place and fairly safe from the king’s or anyone else’s knowledge. The Black Forest was known for wolves and bears, improper folk, and faie. No one saw the need to go there or had the desire to. It was considered worse than undesirable.

Her thoughts wander back to Sir Oisin as he gallantly sits atop his noble horse, Ronnin. Sir Oisin never comes to the brothel. But some of her girls lined up at the tavern he haunted to see what all the fuss was about. She inhales and leans back. She’s enjoyed the intimacy of being with so many different men. The play acting involved in foreplay and the gossip after sexual release made her feel full and useful. Someday she would have to pass the brothel onto someone else, and they could keep its current name or come up with their own. But for now, she still has urges that need to be satiated.

Thinking of Sir Oisin reminds her that Lady Elva had made a secretive appointment to learn the art of seduction. Lady Elva was worried her husband was losing interest in her because of an accident, when she was an infant, causing the tops of her ears to be ripped off. So, Madame Swan had ordered special scented oils to arouse the loins of men. She planned, after their meeting, on gifting the baroness a bottle of the oil. But with the death of the baroness’s husband, and what happened to Prince James, everything is unsure.   

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B15

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

She takes out another board and carefully writes down the current cost of potatoes, peas, wheat, eggs, and wine. Girls come to the brothel from all over with all shades of skin, and hair colour and styles. Some have round eyes, other slightly bulging eyes, and others with slanted or almond shaped eyes. Some are curvy, busty, flat chested, and in-between. The more exotic the girls look, the more business they attract. However, the differences were becoming blurred as people got used to the foreign girls. If they had children the difference became even less inconspicuous. Above all, attitude brings patrons back. A patron wants to feel special. Some of the foreign girls told her of their own country’s ideas of sexual fantasies. Some of these she encouraged, others she found debaucherous and forbid. Patrons who liked to belittle, degrade, or strangle girls were quickly removed and never allowed back.

A few years ago, a girl from the Black Forest, where the canopy is so thick that light rarely reaches the ground, was captured and sexually abused by some of the king’s own soldiers. This continued until a ranger named Crimthann, an uncle of Sir Oliver, found her tied and locked in a makeshift cage. He brought her to the brothel. When she saw him, she gasped. His hands and forearms were covered in bite marks, and there were scratches all around his eyes. The girl’s hands and feet were bound and her mouth gagged. ‘Didn’t know where else to take her,’ he said in a desperate voice. ‘She needs somewhere safe to go and she’s been terribly abused. Didn’t want to tie her up but she was insisted on attacking me,’ he finished in a tone mixed with frustration and rage.

She and the other girls spent two days feeding, and speaking gently to the girl before she began to trust them. Crimthann had re-bandaged the arrow hole in the girl’s right thigh and left arm as best he could. Whoever the soldiers were, they had shot her than yanked the arrows out. The wounds were just beginning to fester, so they must have used alcohol initially. But Crimthann didn’t believe the bandages had been changed since they captured her. Her wrists and ankles were full of sores from where they tied her to the cage’s bars. Initially, she could hardly walk from what the soldiers had done to her. For a week the chamber pot she used had blood in it. After a full moon cycle of changing bandages and coating the wounds with poultices, the girl pointed at her chest and called herself Endellion. Using an oak staff, the girl forced herself to walk again.

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B14

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

The only thing keeping the brothel going was that patrons know the girls are experts in the art of pleasure. Before she took over the brothel, the original madame made it clear any man with a phallus that was warty, discolored, or had any other sign of sickness, would be turned away. Madame Raven, so named for her beady eyes, suspicious demeanor, and slick black hair had her two sons work as sentries. Rumours said that their father was a nobleman, and would not claim his bastard sons but paid for their training and weapons.

She smiles at the memory. Devon and Hank’s sons, Carl and Richard, were now her sentries. It was Devon and Hank who gave her the moniker Madame Swan. It started when she lay with one or the other. Devon first called her Lady Swan but that name would be an afront to the nobility, so she told him not to. Stroking her bare thigh, he had whispered with a knowing smile, ‘My Swan. Tall and sensuous.’ He must have told his brother for Hank started calling her ‘My Swan’ as well. Every time one of them said it to her it made her giggle shyly. Once she took over the brothel from the failing Madame Raven, both brothers started calling her Madame Swan.

She glances down at the wooden board she uses as a ledger. Taking up a piece of chalk she draws a penis and beside the image writes ten X’s side-by-side. Underneath, she draws the image of a lamb with a capital C beside it. A hundred lambskin condoms should be enough for a fortnight. She would also need Queen Anne’s Lace for the girls who didn’t like the feel of the condoms or the patrons who wouldn’t wear them but promised to pull out. Since the population was decimated by the plague aborting a pregnancy was punishable by death.

Places of worship were being used now for schools to teach children how to read and write along with addition and subtraction. She wishes she could have gone to a school. However, she also heard the main function of the school was to indoctrinate the students. Every day, before they started school they were to chant: “The King is great; the King is noble; the noblest of all. The King is wise; the wisest of all. We must obey the King; we want to obey the King; the King is our salvation from all that is vile.” She had covered her face with her hands as she rolled her eyes after one of the patrons told her. It was important to never outwardly show disrespect to the nobility, especially the king.

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Souls with Swords: Madame Swan B13

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Within a year she had arrived at the kingdom of Damp Wind. The current king’s father ruled then. She remembers the first time she saw King Charles. Very tall and gangly. Unhappy, it seems with marrying one of his noble born cousins, he had married a merchant’s daughter named Catherine instead. Whereas, King Charles was simple and preferred to hunt and rut rather than rule, Catherine was shrewd and manipulative. While the old king visited the brothel, she found herself working for, Catherine had forests cut down to make gardens, open lawns, and roads for merchants and travelers. Queen Catherine argued that open lawns and vast gardens allowed guards to easily see approaching enemies.

She had lain with the old king a few times. He was always inebriated and complaining how his wife let him enter her only until she gave birth. The present king, Leopold, most certainly took after his mother when it came to shrewdness. He also came to the brothel when he was of age but stopped when he fell head over heels for the current queen.

Over the years she had learned to read people’s expressions and actions. And how society would react to certain events; such as Prince Williams right hand being lopped off by Sir Ganbold.

She desperately wanted some Camomile tea to relax her nerves but her supplies were dwindling and she didn’t know when the merchants would cross the sea to bring more. Money was getting short. With so many men dead from the latest king’s wars and having to guard the borders, women were now competing to mate with the healthier men. The brothel, a place where women of questionable character worked, was being replaced by willing women seeking a fertile lover.

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B12

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Her father, a cobbler died when she was around nine and her younger brother barely six. Their mother was tall and attractive. Soon after, a man started coming round. At first, he seemed nice. A burly man with a thick crop of brown hair and thick black eyebrows. He was a tanner by trade. Their mother married him soon after. Almost the next day he made sure their mother knew that her brats were to keep quiet and more-or-less be invisible. By law, he took over the house, land, and their mother.

When she reached twelve, town folks said she was the spitting image of her mother. Her brother also had long eyelashes, and when their stepfather decided to visit her when he thought their mother was asleep, she worried he would do the same to her brother. She didn’t put up a fuss to keep him from turning his attention to her brother. Shortly afterwards, the first wave of the pox came over the land. It took her brother and her mother. The next day her stepfather decided that he would share her with other men for a price. After a week she stole his money and ran. He did give her one thing, a talent that was always sought after. It was the only thing she knew how to do in order to survive. How she lasted so long without getting a disease or pregnant is a miracle.

In time, she came across a caravan of people known as the Romani, with their colorful outfits and numerous skills. She tried to seduce one of the middle-aged men, named Damian. Phoebe was a beautiful name she had heard another girl called. In a sweet, sensuous voice she told him that was her name. He had held her back at arm lengths and began to weep. In his broken English he told her she reminded him of the daughters he had lost to the plague. He denied her touch but gave her something else. The understanding of money and more. For three years she helped sell clothing, shoes, and curved knives that these people either made or bartered for. Damian let her keep some money, which she stored in an inside pocket she had sewn herself, and the necklace his eldest daughter had once worn.

One of the ladies named Alifair taught her how to sew and the secrets of mixing herbs, including a contraceptive. Damian had just begun to teach her the art of knife fighting and the cross-bow when the caravan was attacked. He had her hide in a pile of clothing as he took out a small cross-bow. Later, she found his corpse between two of the wagons. He had been gutted by a spear. The caravan had fought off the attackers but there was hardly anyone left. Alifair was also lost to her. She saw the survivors hurry with their goods into a nearby woods.  She took Damian’s curved warrior’s knife, shoulder satchel of coins, and a bag filled with salted fish before fleeing herself.

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B11

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

For how many years had she been doing this? She believes she is in her late forties. Perhaps ten years younger than the old king whose calendar years she based her own age on. Royal birthdays are the only ones that are publicly observed. People often gloat that their birthday is the same day as a particular nobles’, or that they were born so many days before or after.  

She knows from the familiar stares of the patrons that she’s still attractive. Her voice is a little deeper, and her face, with only a few wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, can still enchant. Not bad considering her lifetime of experiences so far. Her bosom, always looking as if it’s about to fall out of her dress, either draws jealousy or lust. The jewellery she wears around her neck is strategically placed to draw the eyes to the mysterious of what her dress does cover. The slit up the right side of the dresses she often wears isn’t just for easier movement. And the scented oils she buys from Celima, the Perfumery, are just the right strength to draw people closer. She loves wearing earrings that highlight her sparkling sky-blue eyes. Someday, she might have to just manage, but not while she can get aroused and use decades of years of experience to arouse. Though she has to admit to herself, nowadays it’s less about personal satisfaction, and more about teasing out another’s pleasure.

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Swords with Souls: Madame Swan B10

Madame Swan

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Madame Swan is sitting in the backroom of her brothel, Savory Moments, counting coins when Delphia bursts into the room. Madame Swan looks up and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Everyone is talking about it!” Delphia blurts out. “Sir Ganbold cut off Prince James’ hand. He also killed Baron Rupert!”

Madame Swan brushes past Delphia and pulls back the blinds from the main hall window. She peers out and sees a crowd gathering in the street. For a moment she sees Sir Oisin on his horse in the midst of the crowd before he forces his way through. King Leopold will be in a rage but nothing compared to the Queen. She tries to picture Sir Ganbold’s face. He has never entered her brothel. She remembers his hair was black and so were his eyes, as if all he had was one large pupil and no iris. His skin was tanned and creased with weather wrinkles. A northeasterner from across the sea. She turns to Delphia, “Tell Erdenechimeg to go to the farm, now!”

She tries to think if there any other of the girls who might look like a female version of Sir Ganbold. There isn’t much time. Patrons would start arriving during the twilight. Always hooded, with their horses stabled somewhere else. Some would be soldiers or officers of the court.

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Swords with Souls: The Infiltrator B9

The Infiltrator

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

They expect him to be as fertile as Baron Rupert. But they would be disappointed. As an exceptionally rare half breed it was unlikely he would ever plant a life inside them. His story about being abducted and tortured as a child was a lie. The desiccation of the top of his ears was a choice.

He splashes water infused with lavender from a wash bucket over his naked body to clean off the scent of sweat and sex. As he wipes himself off with what he hopes is a clean towel, he glances out the second storey window of the tavern. There’s great deal of chatter going on. He dresses and kisses the girls once more before hurrying down the stairs. Other women are on the main floor touching his arm to get his attention. He grins and apologizes that he must go but assures them he will be back. There will be other men willing to resolve their obsessive need to have babies. Sadly, the pox had stolen many of the men’s ability to have children.

His intention was to leave this very day. His ten years of observation were finally over.

As he enters the stable to collect his only real friend, Ronnin, an unusually large hackney horse, he hears talk of the prince spitting on Sir Ganbold’s face and losing his sword hand for it. He learns that the queen has demanded Sir Ganbold be brought in alive so he can have his hands severed while he watches the beheading of his wife and children. Then locked in a cell with the heads of his family on stakes just out of reach. His wife’s dead face staring at him while his children’s are turned away to show disgust at their heathen father. He also learns the king has proclaimed Sir Ganbold the murder of the king’s cousin, Baron Rupert.

What a mess he thinks as leaps onto Ronnin’s back. As he rides up to the castle’s gates, he forms a plan.

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Swords with Souls: The Infiltrator B8

The Infiltrator

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Sir Oisin pushes himself up until his bare back is against the bed’s headboard. The women on either side of him cuddle closer to him both reaching up to lay a hand on his chest. He strokes the soft hair of the auburn-haired girl to his right and simultaneously the blonde hair of the girl to his left. Neither are married. Married women have offered themselves to him but with much praising of their beauty and desirability he honorably refuses to lay with them. The angry scowl on their faces suggests there might be repercussions for his denial but better that than the wraith of their possessive husbands. He strokes the pox scarred face of the girl with auburn hair. He leans over and kisses her mouth before giving her a dazzling smile. Then he turns and does the same to the blonde-haired girl. He knows the real reason so many women want to share his bed. The former king’s wars against other nations have made the ratio of women to men ten to three.

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 [DW1]

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Swords with Souls: The Sword Master B7

The Sword Master

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

“The prince has baptized you, Sir Ganbold,” the king says with a nervous laugh.

He is confused by what happens next. Blood splatters his face and others. He has a vague awareness of Sir Ganbold rapidly marching out of the hall.

There is absolute silence in the hall until the prince screams out, “My sword hand!”

He instinctively draws out his sword as he wipes the blood from his face. Sir Olaf draws his sword and steps before the king. Sir Afamefuna rushes to the prince. In one sweeping movement he cuts off a section of his tunic, places his sword on the floor, and wraps the prince’s stump.

From the middle of the room, he hears the queen wailing, and to sum everything up, the king, looking pale and shocked says, “What just happened?”

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Swords with Souls: The Sword Master B6

The Sword Master

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

The king stands and bows to his lady, “My Lady,” he replies before sitting again. “Show me James,” the king says to his son with outreaching hands.

The prince steps forward onto the open floor between his mother and his father. He draws his short sword and brandishes in the air. Next, he makes a flourish of attack movements as if foes are coming at him from every direction. After a few moments he stops, re-sheathes his sword and bows to his father. “I am ready to lead our forces against the dwarves and giants to the north should they disobey your commands, or to cross the sea to destroy the heathens.”

He’s impressed with the boy’s sword fighting display. There were a lot of bold and useless movements but that could just be age. That he would mention the dwarves and the giants was interesting. The king’s great great grandfather was said to be a near giant himself. King David created the heights of banishment. It’s rumored that the woman he fell in love with liked someone even taller than himself.  When she refused to marry King David, he had her measured and decreed that she was a deviant. Any woman or man her height, or shorter, would be banished. He had himself measured as well. Anyone his exact height or taller was also to be banished to the mountainous areas in the far north. That the Rule of Banishment should continue to this day made little sense to him but such were the forever rules of kings.

“I can defeat anyone now, father!” the prince proclaims.

He smiles and sees the rest of the room doing the same. What a sweet child. The only one who does not smile is Sir Ganbold.

“You doubt me, Sir Ganbold?” the prince demands to know.

“You are young, My Prince, and untried in battle,” Sir Ganbold replies in his soft and deadly voice.

“Draw your sword and test me, son of infidels,” the prince challenges to the shock of everyone in the room.

Sir Ganbold stares straight ahead as he replies, “I must draw blood if I draw my sword, Prince.”

“James,” the king says in a stern voice.

The prince ignores his father and spits into Sir Ganbold’s face. “Coward!”

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Swords with Souls: The Sword Master B5

The Sword Master

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

The king is waving him aside when a soldier enters. The soldier’s scarlet cape billows as he hurries up to kneel and place a thick mauve pillow before the throne.

He sees the thick eyebrows of the king raise in concern. “Raise and speak,” the king commands the soldier.

“Your Highness,” the soldier says with a stern yet nervous voice. “Baron Luis was murdered last night. It’s unclear when it happened. He was found in his bed with his throat slit and….” Sir Oliver can see the concern in the soldier’s face.  “A message was left on this pillow.”

“Let’s see,” the king commands. As the king speaks Sir Olaf draws what would be a two-handed sword to anyone else half way out of its sheath.

A confused expression crosses the king’s face as the soldier holds out the pillow for him to read what’s written on it. “I know that hand writing!”

After ten years he has learned to understand the king’s moods and his sly personality. He waits to see how this plays out.

“The baron’s wife is very upset, Your Highness,” the soldier says with a solemn voice.

“I will discuss this with the Treasurer later,” the king tells the soldier dismissively. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” the soldier replies, exhaling as he marches from the hall.

Next Queen Jadwiga enters with her entourage of waiting women and female guards.  Her purple dress flows back with determination. He believes the queen would be quite attractive but for the constant thin-lipped scowl on her face. Her brunette hair is tied up in a beehive. Beside her is the prince. Twelve years old already.  He is wearing a dark brown tunic with a purple cape. His footwear is dark and appropriate for battle training. His left-hand rests on the raven shaped pommel of his short sword. The raven is missing a wing, reflecting the crest of the king’s family.

“My Lord,” the queen shouts out, “Our prince has something to show you.”

caedar-writing-artwork.com

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Video Review of The Sports Gene

At a later date I’ll post a more in depth article. This is a fantastic book!

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Sword with Souls: The Sword Master B4

The Sword Master

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Sir Oliver marches past all the other royal guards with his spangenhelm cradled in his left arm. At the back of the hall is the king seated on his throne. To the king’s right is Sir Afamefuna. He was the captain during the King’s father’s time and swore to protect the old king’s son. On the king’s left side is the near giant, Sir Olaf. The latest captain of the royal guard and the most dangerous man he has ever met. Beside Sir Olaf is Sir Ganbold.  The best archer on foot and horse. Missing, and meant to stand beside Sir Afamefuna, is Sir Oisin. The most handsome of them all and best singer by far. Likely busy with one of the many lasses awaiting his attention.

He had started learning how to read not ten years before and enjoys it very much. But he is not a poet nor a scholar and has no desire to write. But he looks forward to reading what others will write of the three other knights of King Leopold Khalifa.

“Your Majesty,” he says with his chin high and staring straight ahead. “The area for your new palace has been cordoned off.”

“And the deer and other hunting game kept in?” the king asks him in a deep, condescending voice that reminds him more of drinking curled milk than any particular sound.

“Yes, my king,” he replies.

“And all the faie and other loiters removed?”

“As you commanded, my king.” He holds back a nervous gulp.  The faie now hide on his own fiefdom and the nearby Black Forest, a mere thirty leagues away from where the king’s new palace will be built. It was as far away as the faie could safely move from their original homes.

As the fourth son of a local farmer, he had little hope of achieving wealth. His father suggested he try out for the King’s Guard. Others bullied him initially, until he became the humble expert in every weapon. As a farmer’s son, he is accustomed to keeping his mouth shut around nobles. He knows to let their insults and gests slide right by. Eventually, he made a name for himself as trustworthy. In his first year as a guard, his captain told him where a barrel of whiskey was hidden.  That captain had him give an oath not to reveal it to a company officer who wanted it. Later that day the company officer told him, he saw him talking to the captain, and wanted to know about what. He refused to say. The company officer along with some other junior officers attacked him and stripped him. They forced him into one of the wooden cages used for captured criminals. Throughout the day he was jabbed with sharpened sticks and ridiculed. The next day he was released and told he had passed a very important test.

caedar-writing-artwork.com

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Swords with Souls: The Necromantic Druidess P3

The Necromantic Druidess

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

As he chokes and sits up grasping his throat to close the wound, she rolls off the bed and pulls out a vial from an inner pocket and a small bag made of sheepskin.  As his eyes dull, she spoons his blood into the vial before corking it.  As he flops onto the bed, about to give one final gasp, she places the mouth of the bag over his mouth. Inside the bag is a tiny piece of quartz with iron inside. When his eyes glaze over, she pinches the bag shut and ties it tight with a leather thong.

Holding her knife as steady as she can, she dips its tip into the baron’s blood and draws out the three-star symbol of the sovereign onto a pillow case. Next, she carefully writes: Funds are owed in the handwriting of the King’s Treasurer. 

Standing naked in front of a full-sized mirror beside a wash basin and using a nearby washcloth she rubs the baron’s blood from her face and body.  When she is done her body starts to tremor and she crumbles to the ground and weeps quietly. This is the first time she has killed a human.  The first time she has captured a soul.

Once clothed, she covers the baron up to his chin with the sheets. She checks her clothes, wig, and face once more in the mirror for any signs of blood. To be cautious she ties a scarf around her head.

When she feels confident there are no telling signs, she raps lightly on one of the double doors. A guard opens it. He stares down at her with an expression torn between professionalism and lust.  She places a finger to her lips and whispers, “The lord is a sleep.” Her voice sounds controlled considering how hard her heart is pounding.

The guard nods to another guard farther down the dimly lit hallway before leading her down a set of stairs to a doorway that will allow her outdoors.

She thanks the guard with a sweet and not so innocent smile. Once the door is closed, she hurries towards the front of the castle where the drawbridge is. If an alarm has been sounded by then, she will slip into the bushes to change out of her disguise.

caedar-writing-artwork.com

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Swords with Souls: The Necromantic Druidess P2

The Necromantic Druidess

(Swords with Souls)

Cover by Darren Joy

Dark Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

He disrobes with clumsy vigor then roars and beats his chest before leaping beside her.

She searches with her fingers desperately for the knife hidden within the inner pocket of her dress.

“Let me see your body so I can kiss every curve and valley,” he tells her in a deep, sing-song baritone voice as his eyelids droop.

“Ooh,” she coos.  “First, turn away, so I can touch the war scars on your back.”

“Be quick,” he says with a laugh and a yawn as he turns so his back is at her disposal.

She is impressed that he could survive so many battles.  The scars are mostly white and plentiful with a few thick and purple. She traces along the ones on his upper trap. It’s too bad she despises him so much and desperately needs his essence for a vital task.

To survive in the cold seasons, it’s necessary to eat meat. For the sheep that honor her family with their lives, a quick death is always given. “You are so strong and these scars must tell so many stories.  Let me touch the face of such a powerful and yet sensual being.  She reaches with her right hand under his long brunette hair and touches first his goatee, then his mouth, and finally covers his eyes.  With her left hand she reaches over his neck and in one quick jerk slits his throat.

caedar-writing-artwork.com

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Swords with Souls: The Necromantic Druidess B1

The Necromantic Druidess

(Swords with Souls)

By Dan Watt the author of BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

Cover by Darren Joy

Fantasy Fiction

(Adult content)

Before her, gazing like an oversized teen in lust is the current king’s uncle and former captain of the royal guard. A weapons master and noble who led by example before his brother, the old king granted him the title of baron. The truth of his nobleness would be complete if he hadn’t charmed so many girls, including her sister Gwen. At thirteen, her sister was a lady in waiting to the baroness. That is until she became pregnant two years ago and gave birth, like so many before her. When the baron found out, he had her sister cast out beyond the castle walls, in only a nightgown with a hungry babe suckling her swollen breast. Her sister later said she was willingly seduced.  But does a grown man, one who has committed himself to another, get to seduce one so young? Other girls did not fare as well. Found dying of frostbite in the winter months or forced to survive by selling their bodies. Tonight however, isn’t completely about revenge, but about the construction of the new king’s palace. Not only is the king destroying forested land to build his palace but he’s also altering the Tyne River.

She hopes the toxin in the wine flask, the one she insisted they share during the baron’s post hunting party, will give her an advantage. For months she has taken small dosages of the toxin to build up a partial immunity. So far, her senses are clear and his seem to be getting duller.

Right now, she is lying naked in the ruby red satin sheets of his immense bed. Earlier she allowed him to watch her disrobe at the side of his bed while his wife, Lady Elva, stays at her parent’s palace in Cold Wind Realm, getting ready to give birth.  Before she finished undressing Baron Rupert had tried to come closer but she had put up her hands for him to wait. If the night goes well, it will be the only time he gazes upon her naked body. His body is powerfully built; she can tell by the tightness of his now brandy stained shirt and how his thighs press tightly against his wide rimmed trousers. There is excess fat but it adds to the powerful appearance of his bull-like physique. Even now, past his prime, he still occasionally leads his men to battle. Something the sovereign has never done. Those skills will come in handy.

“Let me see this bull of a body of yours,” she coos at him, “and that part that grows like a horse in heat.” The broad smile on his wide face is charming. It’s a struggle not to like this man. She rolls herself in the silk sheets to hide the one arm that dangles towards the position of her carefully placed clothes that now lie under a pillow on the floor.

caedar-writing-artwork.com

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Book Review of Ray Nayler’s “The Mountain In The Sea”

  • I wrote this review earlier but out of respect for my Uncle Robb’s passing and my cousin, I waited until now. Uncle Robb enjoyed Clive Cussler and Dan Brown. I think “The Mountain In The Sea” is a book he would have enjoyed reading. This is for him and my cousins.

Book Review of Ray Nayler’s

“The Mountain In The Sea”

For Christmas my eldest niece, Rachel, gave me Ray Nayler’s “The Mountain In The Sea”.

It’s interesting that my niece would choose to give me this book. I was in Saint Martins years ago with my snorkeling buddies when I saw something amazing. I was standing in a rocky area, when I saw a young octopus stand up on a flat rock, and use its tentacles to walk into the water.

Nayler’s story is woven with different main characters into a story that takes place in the near future. He has written a science fiction thriller that asks, what defines the meaning of life, and can humans ever collaborate with other intelligent lifeforms? Although the story’s plot line discusses overfishing and the need for sanctuaries it also explores the possibility of evolving octopuses and whether an artificially made lifeform should be considered alive. He uses quotes from one of his main characters, Dr. Ha Nguyen, throughout the book to get the reader to ponder his main themes.

Quote from the book (p. 215)

We have finally taken the first steps toward truly observing life–not at a distance, as its masters, but in fellowship, recognizing a part of our selves.

— Dr. Ha Nyguyen, How Oceans Think

Quote from the book (p. 285):

What does it mean to be a self? I think, more than anything else, it means the ability to select between different possible outcomes in order to direct oneself toward a desired outcome:

— Dr. Ha Nyguyen, How Oceans Think

This is an original story that makes me think of the 2016 movie Arrival and the need to learn another species written language. It also reminds me of how Frank Herbert uses quotes from different main characters in his Dune series.

Ray Nayler is a critically acclaimed short fiction writer (The Very Best of The Year’s Best: 35 Years of the The Year’s Best Science Fiction). He currently serves as the international advisor to the Office of National Marine Sanctuaries at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

YouTube Interview with Ray Nayler by Media Death Cult

https://ca.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=mcafee&p=Ray+Nayler&type=E210CA885G0#id=1&vid=1d0acbe83f29106e42cfeccac446c4fc&action=click
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Swords with Souls

Swords with Souls

fantasy fiction

By Dan Watt

Cover by Darren Joy

(Warning: Adult content)

The Sword Maker

Within a rectangular and shallow box filled with damp clay, he places a wooden sword and presses down.  Four specially attached boards, no longer than his thumb. make sure the sword is in the proper position. The wooden sword is complete with a globe-shaped pommel, threaded grip, disc shaped guard, and double-edged blade. The entire sword is coated in linseed oil.  As he waits for the clay to dry, he reads over a letter from a potential customer.

Dear Master of Sword Making,

I wish to commission you.

This is very important work and highly sensitive—

Thus, it is paramount that you never tell another soul.

You will be paid handsomely.

In three weeks, I will be arriving with my entourage.

All the necessary ingredients will be made available

at that time.

  • Lady Некромансер

A tiny man with a long bulbous nose and quarter moon ears had brought the letter to him during the night.  The tiny man wore a dark brown archer’s hat and was dressed in a fine dark green jerkin, blue trousers, and leather boots.  Hanging on either side of a wide black belt were ornately pommeled bronze daggers.  The first pommel was in the shape of a skull.  The second of clinched finger bones. At first, the bladesmith thought the pommels were made of silver but after a second glance realized they were too dull.  When the bladesmith glanced up he noticed that the narrow face of the tiny man made his dark, piercing eyes appear too large.

That’s when the bladesmith glanced towards the open door where a vast figure stood silently.  The top of the bronze breastplate the man wore reached the lintel and glimmered from the forge’s embers.

No words were spoken only courteous nods given as the letter was handed over.

He checks on the clay.  It is dry enough for him to gently pull the wooden sword free.  He dampens the clay in an identically sized box and presses the wooden sword into it. 

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Enchanting Music…violinist Anna World Music

Anna World Music

(Violinist, musician, England, Int.)

When I first started following Cellistlidia, I noticed she often played with other musicians.  Anna is one of those musicians.

As you look around her Instagram site, you’ll notice she takes you with her on her numerous travels.  Her bio while you she looks across the Thames near the London Bridge.

She plays a range from classical to modern music.  Playing Coldplay’s Viva la Vida.

Playing Hymne à l’amour at her own wedding accompanied by @halostringsuk.

Most, if not all the musicians I have posted so far, exercise.  Anna is no exception to this.  Wall climbing.

You can read, see, and hear more about Annaworldmusic here:

Instagram

YouTube

Other musicians I follow:

The Cellists:

Galya Sky

ThatCelloGuy

Tina Guo

Cellestlidia

Mariko_cello

The Violinists

Rusandapanfili

*Thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for the cello

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Enchanting Music #6: violinist Rusanda Panfili

Rusanda Panfili

(Violinist, composer, Moldova, Int.)

Once again, Hans Zimmer collects amazing musicians to play on the soundtracks he composes.

Rusanada accompanied as she plays one of my favourite compositions from the soundtrack of The DaVinci Code—Chevaliers de Sangreal  Following is from the actual concert with Hans Zimmer along with Tina Guo and others. Hans Zimmer Live

Playing Davy Jones theme from the Pirates of the Caribbean, solo

The Black Pearl is definitely one of my favourite movies.  Here, Rusanda is playing beside Tina Guo for the Hans Zimmer Live performance of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Playing Man of Steel for Hans Zimmer Live.

You know the passion is great when the eyes are closed while playing.

You can read, see, and hear more of Rusanada Panfili here:

Instagram

YouTube

Other musicians I follow:

The Cellists:

Galya Sky

ThatCelloGuy

Tina Guo

Cellestlidia

Mariko_cello

*Thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for the cello

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Enchanting Music #5….the Cellists…Mariko Muranaka

@mariko_cello

Mariko Muranaka

(Cellist, Japan, Int.)

One thing leads to another and it usually has to do with Hans Zimmer’s genius on getting enthusiastic and superb musicians to collaborate with him on soundtracks.

Mariko Muranaka came to my attention through Hans Zimmer, Tina Guo, and Rusanda Panfili.  Musicians who play together succeed together.

Mariko playing the music to Savage Daughter along with Serena Belle’s enchanting voice.

Playing Uprising by the Muse with Mia Asano on electric violin.

Zol Adamcek posted a cellphone recording of her playing with Hans Zimmerman on Man of Steel, along with Tina Guo on Keytar, and Rusanda Panfili on violin.

And playing solo, The Stone’s Paint It Black.

You can read, hear, and see more of Mariko Muranaka at:

Instagram

Other musicians I follow:

Galya Sky

ThatCelloGuy

Tina Guo

Cellestlidia

*Thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for the cello

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Musicians I follow #4…Cellistlidia

Cellistlidia

Lydia Alonso

(cellist, composer, GB)

I have been following Lydia for so long that I have forgotten when I first started listening to her.

She has brought myself and others along with her on her numerous travels to exquisite places where she has shared her individual and collaborative concerts. Playing at The Lanesborough Hotel with holostringsuk https://www.instagram.com/p/C0oZokhMFFS/?hl=en.

As an individual during Covid, playing J.S. Bach’s Suite No. 1, Prelude, Lewis Capaldi’s Before You Go

Often playing at events with others: cellistlidia and halostringsuk Pachelbel’s Canon – Halo Strings, playing with @orchestralqawwaliproject and others Dam Mast Qalandar.

You can read, see, and hear more about Cellistlidia:

https://www.instagram.com/cellistlidia/?hl=en

Other musicians I follow:

Galya Sky

ThatCelloGuy

Tina Guo

*Thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for the cello

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Musicians that I follow…Tina Guo

Tina Guo

(Cellist, composer, teacher…Int.)

I can’t remember for sure whether I came across Tina Guo or ThatCelloGuy first.  The first piece I heard Tina play is the theme song to The Last of the Mohicans.

Then I found out about her ongoing collaborations with Hans Zimmer.  Including: The Da Vinci Code, The Dark Night Medley: Why So Serious?, and many more.

Along with ThatCelloGuy she has also played with numerous other artists, such as Rusanda Panfili:

The Queen’s Gambit Main Title

She is a business woman, involved in numerous projects.  In The Studio With Tina Guo.

She has been kind enough to create a number of how to play the cello videos. 

You can read, see, and hear more about Tina Guo at:

Other musicians I follow:

Galya Sky

ThatCelloGuy

  • Thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for cello
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The Cellists…musicians I follow #Two

“ThatCelloGuy”

Cremaine Booker

(Cellist, composer, arranger, singer, producer…U.S.)

After listening to Galya Sky, I started looking up cellists.  “ThatCelloGuy” popped up in the search and I have been a fan ever since. 

How he manages to synchronize himself with himself is truly amazing.

Peace

One of my favourite pieces is Time by Hans Zimmer from the soundtrack for the movie Inception.  This is a man passionate about the music he plays and one of the reasons I often listen to his videos while writing.

Inception

He has also recorded music online with other amazing musicians, such as Tina Guo:

Vivaldi Double Cello Concerto with Tina Guo

You can read, see, and hear more about ThatCelloGuy at:

thatcelloguy.com[DW1] 

Similar Posts:

Galya Sky

*With thanks to Andraya Watt for modeling and Bill Labron for the cello

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Honour The Belt #9

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#9

The referee lifts her right arm into the air.  With a closed fist, except for her index finger, that points up, she circles her wrist.  Autumn Spring dings the large, vertical wrestling bell on her foldout desk. 

“Is that real!?” a fan shouts out.  Everyone knows he’s talking about The Bionic Man’s arm. 

Yes, it is Autumn says inside her head.   That was a gift that all the promoters and some of the wrestlers willing paid for.  There is one more gift for The Bionic Man but The Source would present that later.

“Lobster Claw has put his right claw up to challenge The Bionic Man’s bionic hand,” she commentates.  “Nature against machine,” she continues.  “It’s a back-and-forth battle, ladies and gentlemen.  Lobster Claw’s claws are known to crush unopened beer cans.  On our website, honourthebelt.com you can see videos of him splitting coconuts and other items.  Items no one would believe are humanly possible to crush.    However, The Bionic Man is a mystery.  There’s currently no content on what he can do.”

“I think we’re about to find out!”  She stands up to rile the crowd and to get a better view.  “Lobster Claw just grabbed the bionic arm.  It looks like he’s trying to tear the bionic arm off.  The bionic man is pounding the claw on his arm but his normal, human strength doesn’t seem to be having any effect.  Lobster Claw just hipped tossed The Bionic Man.”  Oh, gawd, she thinks.

She takes in a deep breath.  The show must go on.

“The Bionic Man has lost his bionic arm.  Lobster Claw is against the ropes while the referee checks on The Bionic Man.  I don’t believe it!  The Bionic Man wants to continue the match!

“Lobster Claw looks like he’s going to pounce on The Bionic Man before he even gets back to his feet.  The referee is holding Lobster Claw back.  The Bionic Man is back on his feet!  His face is full of rage.  The referee has just stepped away.  Lobster Claw is wasting no time stalking The Bionic Man.  Is this now a game of cat and mouse?  The Bionic Man just stomped his right foot in a threatening manner.  Unbelievable!  That’s a double drop kick by The Bionic Man right into the centre of Lobster Claw’s chest!  Few people including veteran wrestlers could do such an accurate leaping double kick.

“Lobster Claw hit the top rope so hard he lost his footing and fell on his face.”  Autumn catches a glance from the referee.  She checks the time and points her right index and middle finger down.    

“It looks like the referee is now checking on Lobster Claw.  Lobster Claw looks stunned but nods his head that he can continue.  I didn’t think anyone on the planet could continue after a kick like the one he just took. 

“Wait!  What?  This is unbelievable!  The Bionic Man is trying to put his bionic arm back on!  Oh, no!  Lobster Claw just yanked the bionic arm away.  Oh, my gawd, does this man have no morals?  He just hit The Bionic Man with his own bionic arm.  This is ruthless folks, just ruthless, and uncalled for.

“But wait!  The bionic man just slid one of his legs around one of Lobster Claw’s.  He’s taken the big man down!  This is impossible!  I can’t believe what I’m seeing!  Lobster Claw tried to hit The Bionic Man again but because of the pain he must be in, from the leg hold, there was little strength in his attack.

“The Bionic Man has done it!  Using the power from Lobster Claw’s attack he’s managed to slip his bionic arm back on.  The fingers are moving people.  The fingers are moving!  The Bionic Man just put his bionic hand around Lobster Claw’s throat.  Lobster Claw is tapping out!

“Don’t be surprised if Lobster Claw calls for a disqualification.  Really, how strong is that bionic arm?”

Thanks to:

Jennifer Deslaurier for portraying Autumn Spring

Honorable Mentions:

A Complete Guide to Bionic Arms & Hands

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #8

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#8

Autumn Spring takes a sip of water.  Her experience with professional wrestling is that the best are tremendous actors.  They become their character no matter what’s going on in their real life.  Mamacita’s bunched up shoulders aren’t act.  Autumn just knows the Mexican wrestler hates losing.  But that she did, tells Autumn that Mamacita isn’t just about herself, but the business as a whole.

The next match is going to be the hardest to call.  The Bionic Man is wrestling against The Lobster Claw, or just Lobster Claw.  The Bionic Man is a young man still, and a war vet.  His armoured vehicle drove over one too many landmines in Sudan while he was guarding Red Cross workers.  His left arm, just below the elbow had to be amputated.  She grounds her teeth.  Lobster Claw is a semi-retired pro wrestler with over twenty years of experience.  He’s also a retired Air Force mechanic.  After a lot of arguments, The Source and the other promoters agreed to let The Bionic Man wrestle, as long as it was with an experienced wrestler.

An adapted version of military taps music blares.  The bear-sized figure of Lobster Claw stomps out from the curtains at the back of the auditorium.  His hands are dyed red.  He alternating clasps his thumbs and pressed together fingers over his head.  The claws are ready to cause damage to whoever opposes him.

Next, she hears soft tapping that grows louder and louder.  “I am now complete,” sings a male voice.  Dancing out from behind the stage curtain is The Bionic Man.  Barely six feet (183 cm) tall, with a quarterback’s body he’s still as cocky as ever.  He rolls under the bottom rope, does a spin and lands on his knees in the centre of the canvas.  He thrust his bionic arm into the air.

All Autumn Spring hears, is the crowd gasp.

Thanks to:

Jennifer Deslaurier for portraying Autumn Spring

Honorable Mentions:

A Complete Guide to Bionic Arms & Hands

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #7

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#7

Mamacita hears her music blaring.  It’s a techno version of the Mexican anthem.  She struts through the screened off area at the back of the gymnasium.  Half way to the ring she twirls so her green, white, and red cape with the Mexican eagle in the centre, flows for everyone to see.  She glances at the commentator table.  See me hermana, she thinks towards the red-haired announcer.  She rolls onto the canvas and dances in a circle.

“You’re too big to be a wrestler!” one of the men in the crowd shouts out.

She grabs a mic off the referee.  Leaning over the top rope she pouts before saying, “You must be only half a man to say such a thing to Mamacita.”  Walking to the centre of the ring, she raises her voice.  “Watch and see what Mamacita’s natural body can do.  Some of you will crave me after you do.  Some of you will fear me.  But all of you will respect Mamacita after you see what she can do.”  She hears her opponent’s music blast trough the air.  She takes off her cape and hands it and the mic to the referee.

From behind the stage’s curtains a young woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes struts out.  She wears a gold mask that glimmers.  As does her pine green halter top and gold shorts.  Her boots are a matching green with red torch emblem on the outer sides.  In her bellybutton is a belly ring that blinks with a white light.  She’s as tall but half the size of Mamacita.  Her abs are ripped and there’s definition in her arms and legs.  This is Lampetia. 

Mamacita moves to attack but the referee holds her back.  Once Lampetia is fully in the ring they lock up.  Mamacita hip flips Lampetia to the mat and puts her into a headlock. 

Between gasping and snarling, Mamacita whispers, “Back kick.” 

Lampetia struggles to her feet than drops so Mamacita’s chin bounces off the top of her head.  She rolls forward onto her feet and kicks back into Mamacita’s abdomen.

As the referee checks on Mamacita she whispers, “Five minutes.”

Mamacita nods at the referee so that she knows Mamacita can continue.  Mamacita sees Lampetia strutting around the ring with her arms raised in the air, to tell the crowd how great she is.

Mamacita screams in rage.  She spins around and clotheslines Lampetia to the canvas.  Mamacita drops onto her knees so she’s straddling Lampetia.  She grabs Lampetia’s long blonde hair and bangs the back of her head into the canvas repeatedly.  The referee counts to five and stops her from continuing.  “You think you’re good?” Mamacita shouts.  She picks up the dazed Lampetia and puts her in a fireman’s carry across her shoulders.  Then she drops backwards. 

The referee hurries over to check on Lampetia.  As she does, she whispers, “Two minutes.”

Mamacita yells at the referee for interfering.  She looks like she’s going to shove the referee away but that would mean a disqualification.  Instead, she reaches to grab Lampetia’s hair. 

But Lampetia has recovered.  With lightning speed, Lampetia grabs Mamacita’s outreaching arm and pulls her off her feet.  Now Lampetia has Mamacita’s arm between her legs and is bending Mamacita’s hand back. 

Mamacita uses all her strength but she just can’t break the hold.  The referee keeps asking Mamacita if she gives up.  Mamacita is able to swing a leg over the bottom rope.  But just as she does Lampetia twists her body so her belly ring blinds the referee.  Lampetia yanks on Mamacita’s arm, causing Mamacita’s leg to come off the bottom rope.

When the referee can see again, Mamacita is too spent and in too much pain to fight on.  She rapidly taps out with her other hand.

Thanks to:

Mamacita nails by Miss Kay

Honorable Mentions:

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #6

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#6

The Source scowls as The Electrician holds a hand just above the top of his head.  Then gradually lowers it to the height of his chin and points at The Source as he gives off a cackle.  The Source makes his entire body shake.  He goes to one side of the ring and shakes the top of the rope as he roars.  Then he goes to the other side, and glaring into the crowd does the same thing.  He stomps his feet and raises his hands with his fingers outstretched, challenging his foe to a feat of strength.  The Electrician glances at the crowd as he points at The Source.  A few cheers beckon him to take the challenge. 

This is what The Source was waiting for.  He kicks The Electrician just above the groin, but that’s not what the crowd sees.  The Electrician falls onto his knees with his hands between his legs.

“Dirty fighter, dirty fighter!” the crowd roars at The Source. 

The Source holds his arms above his head and struts around the ring as the referee checks on The Electrician.  Feeling triumphant, The Source points an index finger at his temple and taps.  The crowd now knows he’s super smart.  He rushes over to the still kneeling Electrician, holds one hand high up in the air, and stomps his foot as he chops down on one of The Electrician’s trap muscles.  The Source lifts his hand up to strike The Electrician again, intending to pound him to the ground, but The Electrician wags a finger at him and starts to stand.  The Source hits The Electrician again but it seems to have no effect.

“Beat the cheater!” the crowd chants.

The Electrician’s entire body shakes as he ignores another one of The Sources’ chops.  The Electrician gives The Source one of his own chops, right across the chest.  The Source staggers back.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees Autumn Spring with her hand on top of a large digital clock.  The referee moves in and whispers “One minute.”

“Don’t forget.  Don’t forget,” The Source thinks towards his opponent as The Electrician pummels him against the ropes. 

In one swift movement, The Electrician jumps back, takes a step forward, jumps in the air, higher than should be possible, and hits The Source square in the chest with a drop kick.

The crowd gasps as The Source flips over the top rope onto the mats below!

The referee rolls below the bottom rope and onto the mats beside The Source.  She whispers, “Are you okay?”

“Count me out,” The Source replies in a most satisfied whisper.

Thanks to:

Brandon Gray for portraying The Source and Robin Gray for makeup and photo

Honorable Mentions:

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #5

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#5

The Source hears The Electrician’s pounding electric piano music boom through the auditorium.  He’s no longer a web designer or graphic artist—he’s The Source.  He prowls around the ring as the referee makes a late entrance and rolls under the lowest rope to hurry onto the canvas.  Desiree Lyn is her performance name and she taps him hard on the shoulder with a scowl on her face.  Leaning in to chastise him for not staying in his corner she whispers, “Sorry, traffic.”

The Electrician marches around the ring pounding his chest and reaching out with his arms so everyone knows he’s the best.  The Electrician has forgotten he’s the babyface.  The Source gets in the referee’s face so the crowd knows he wants at the arrogant Electrician.  When he’s near her ear he keeps the anger on his face as he whispers, “The crowd decides.”  He sees her slight nod of confirmation.  She knows The Electrician has forgotten his role.

The Electrician is a big man.  6’4” without boots and closer to 6’6” with them on.  The electric bolts on his mask give him a menacing and mysterious appearance.  The Source gives him a clothesline across the chest.  Stiffer than he intended.  The Electrician goes down and the referee immediately checks on him.  The Electrician nods he’s okay and gets back to his feet.  It’s a good thing Desiree is also a paramedic.  Young, tough pro wrestlers like The Electrician, don’t always take well to chastisement.  And The Electrician, is an electrician, but also a semi-professional boxer.

Thanks to:

Brandon Gray for portraying The Source and Robin Gray for makeup and photo

Honorable Mentions:

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #4

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#4

He’s back behind the stage curtains.  With a sigh of relief, he sees most of the seats in the school auditorium filled.  He steps back and slaps either side of his chest numerous times, all the while inhaling and exhaling deep breaths.  Taking one more sip of water he pics up a mic.  His theme music comes on and stomps past the curtains. 

“I am the AI in the word destruction,” he growls into the mic.

“The quantum physics of pro wrestling!” he shouts.

“Faster, smarter, newer.”  He pauses as he climbs up the steps to the ring.  As he ducks under the middle rope he smirks and raises his left arm.  “I am…The Source.”  He sets down the mic and gently kicks it outside of the ring so it falls onto one of the floor mats.  He makes a victory sign and points at his eyes than points his index finger at one of the security guards and backup wrestlers.  “Are you intelligent enough to be here!” he shouts.  On que the security guard stands up and starts shouting back at him.  Come on he thinks. He wants the crowd to hate him.   

Thanks to:

Brandon Gray for portraying The Source and Robin Gray for makeup and photo

Honorable Mentions:

Southern Ontario Professional Wrestling

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

Honour the Belt #3

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

#3

Her real name isn’t Mamacita but that’s no one business.  She grins at The Source and practices a roll on the ring’s surface to make sure it’s smooth.  The Source isn’t his real name either although she knows what it is, but the rule is, never call a wrestler by their real name when the makeup or mask is on. 

She grabs one of the top ropes with both hands and shakes it to make sure it’s secure.  The shaking goes on longer than normal because she wants to observe the tall, red-haired girl by the painting of a wrestling ring.  That’s who she wants to get to know.  Mamacita doesn’t just want to wrestle, she wants to know everything about the wrestling business.  And that seemingly, unassuming chica, is going to go places.  Places Mamacita intends to follow until she understands everything.

Mamacita stares down at her hands.  In Canada, the winter has just ended, so her gringo looking skin will soon have it’s more natural olive colour.  Then the audience will eat out of her hands and her merch will sell like loco.  She has ideas for t-shirts and pre-made fingernails with her name written across them.  She’s even considering selling temporary tattoos of her name—written in gold.  Soon all the mujer will be wearing her name on their fingernails, their arms, and even across their chests.

Thanks to:

Mamacita nails by Miss Kay

Honorable Mentions:

Natalia Markova

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

The Kurt Angle Show

Featured

HONOUR the BELT #2 Autumn Spring

HONOUR the BELT

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictious story and homage to professional wrestling

“Be careful, Source.  Or Mamacita will make you, her pet.  You’ll have to carry my luggage and fetch my meals,” Mamacita says with an absolutely delicious contralto voice.  With a flick of her hair, she runs across the ring and expertly throws her right arm over the top rope as she bangs into it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar figure standing by a black and white painting of a wrestling ring. The school’s video club made the painting once they found out they could film the event.  At least that was for free. 

Autumn Spring’s auburn hair flows down to her waist.  She’s wearing a tight black sweater and dark brown pants.  For this event she would be commentating.  Sometimes she portrayed ring announcer.  If the promotion is lucky, someday she’ll dawn a mask or wear face paint, and enter the ring as a wrestler.  Her background in Jui Jitsu would make her an exciting addition.  Behind the scenes, she’s a vital part of the promotion.  She does most of the accounting, now that Butch is focused on setting up the events.

Thanks to:

Jennifer Deslaurier for portraying Autumn Spring

Honorable Mentions:

Fourteen is a coming-of-age dramedy about a 24-year-old woman who gets sucked into the memory of a sleepover that left her scarred from an online interaction with a young man. We are currently seeking funding to go to production in summer 2023 in Toronto, ON.

Kickstarter for the short film 14

Fourteen Seed and Spark Campaign Video

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

Featured

Honour the Belt: Mamacita #1

Honour The Belt

By the author of BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone

*This is a fictitious story and homage to professional wrestling

He still professionally wrestles occasionally but his goals have changed over the last two years.  Part of the plan is to recruit exciting talent.  That’s why he’s peeking through the stage curtains of a local school, in full facial makeup.  A ring is already setup in the centre of the gymnasium.  He and his co-producers didn’t have the $10,000 to $20,000 needed to buy their own ring, so they rented one for $800.00.  It’s $15 a head, and so far, the pre-sales equal thirty fans.  He has guaranteed each wrestler $50 and $10 for each of the five back-up wrestlers/security.  That means $400 for the wrestlers, and $50 for the backups.  $1250 owed minus $450 in current ticket sales.  He takes in a deep breath and lets out a long sigh.  Its lucky professional wrestling is his passion and hobby.  Maybe more fans will show up at the door. 

“Source,” he hears a boisterous voice call near the ring. 

He glances down and sees a tall, burly man with thick forearms covered in hair, pointing towards the double door entrance.  The Electrician is already wearing grey coveralls with his head covered in a silver mask with yellow lightning bolts.

Walking through the entranceway is the professional wrestler he’s most interested in.  Curvaceous comes to mind.  If he was being rude, he’d say her breasts were big enough to keep ten people afloat, and her hips wide enough to carry five toddlers a side.  But he’s heard too many stories about her to think she is out of shape.  She doesn’t walk towards the ring; she prowls up to it.  His eyes widen in respect as she grabs the lowest rope and leaps the four feet to the apron. 

He hurries down the steps towards the ring.  As he gets closer, he sees her glance at him.  Her face is painted with a green bar on the right side, a white one in the centre, and a red one on the left side.  He halts as she saunters across the ring floor.  She brushes her thick black mane of hair back and pauses for effect.  She presses her body against the ropes and snarls at him.  Before he can react, she grabs at him through the ropes.  She keeps her hands in the shape of claws to highlight her long, sharp fingernails.  He realizes it’s a show.  On her thumbnails are slithering snakes, and on each of her fingernails in clear, gold lettering, are single letters that spell out: MAMACITA. 

Thanks to:

Mamacita nails by Miss Kay:  https://www.instagram.com/1_gem_in_i/

Honorable Mentions:

Kickstarter for the short film 14

Professional Wrestling Links:

Celtic Warrior Workout (with Sheamus)  * because I’m a fitness trainer as well as an author

Renee Paquette

The Broken Skull Sessions

Featured

The Other Place: #19 The Final Chapter, For Now

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Nineteen: The Final Chapter, For Now

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

Author of BARD: Owner Of The Gemstone

Now standing on the floor below, Chief Shabuni notices that he is becoming visible.  Approximately twenty steps away, standing on a spiraling staircase, is a well-dressed man wearing a mauve waistcoat with silver embroidery over a thick chest, and matching breaches over legs that are long and thick. This is the one the vampires called, Abhilesh.

“We need to get up those stairs, Dimoso,” Roisin Moodlive says inside his head. 

A booming clicking sound causes him to cover his ears.

“The Inventor, and Mr. Clockwind, have finished the Passage Clock,” Moodlive tells him.  “You need to finish your task here, before the hierarchy awakes from the sisters’ attack.” 

The urgency in her voice both calms and invigorates him.  Tipping his chin, with a scowl on his face, he pumps his arms as he speedwalks towards the staircase.

He sees a smile cross Abhilesh’s well trimmed face as he approaches.  “I have no quarrel with you.  In fact you remind me of H.G. Well’s Invisible Man.”

“You know of the books by authors’ who never existed?” he asks.  His pounding steps grow softer and slower.

“What’s real, depends on which place you’re in.”  Abhilesh presses his back against the curving wall.  He supinates a hand and gestures for Chief Shabuni to continue up the stairs. 

As he passes, he hears the immortal whisper, “Things are going to get exciting, when the minute hand of that clock, ticks again.”

“Hurry!” Moodlive shouts in his head.

At the top of the stairs is a wooden door with yellow light flowing through the space at its bottom.  He turns the phoenix shaped doorknob and pushes the door open.

The room is aglow with sunlight.  He feels perplexed.  Except at the far end of the room, lichen and vines with flowers, grow all around.

A young woman with long auburn hair leans against a curtained window.  Her green eyes gaze his way as she turns a tiny clay vial between a finger and thumb. 

He just stares, dumbfounded as she walks towards him. 

“An end to a beginning,” she says in a lilting, ethereal voice.  She takes his hand, and it reminds him of how big he truly is.  She places the vial against his palm.  “Countess Idris’ castle exist both here and in what you would call, the Real Place.  Once you return, call her Lady Iris once again.  She’ll want those anti-gravity stones to control the passage between there and here.”

“Where do you come from, milady?” he manages to ask.

“I am Valeriya Tetyana, and I come from the Place of Fey.  Perhaps you’ll visit there in the future.”  She places a lithe hand onto his chest, over where Roisin Moodlive resides.  “She’ll help you.  But there are many more adventures for you to complete, before that can occur, Chief Shabuni.”

Thanks To:

Jennifer Deslaurier for portraying Valeriya Tetyana @jenniferdeslaurier

Also, Thanks To:

Taylor Norris, RMT for portraying Lady Evelyn Oolong taynorris@gmail.com

Joanne Gosling for portraying Lady Marina Steamsail Jgosling@calclosets.com

Leah Weir for portraying Countess Thelma Milde

Dianne McBride for letting me use numerous of her pictures  diannemcb@gmail.com

Fireandsteel.ca for the Perched Drake cane sword and Dragonrider folding knife (see Exclusives)

Brandon Gray for portraying “The Inventor” in Books by Authors Who Never Existed.  His wife Robin Gray for his costume and makeup.  Robin can be reached at @grayandwhitelaw  Custom Decor and Designs

Her new website is:  https://gray-and-whitelaw-101684.square.site

Bob Godglick of Considerate Done: Vintage Clock Repair, for portraying Mr. Clockwind in Books by Authors Who Never Existed.  Bob can be reached at:

Bgdm201@gmail.com

519-897-0419

Honourable Mention:

Fatima Rosarium @fatima.rosarium  cosplayer, fitness coach, WBFF Fitness Pro

In April, I will be introducing a fictitious weekly blog story based on professional wrestling.

Featured

The Other Place: #18 And Not Just Your Soul

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Eighteen: And Not Just Your Soul

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

Lady Oolong shivers.  She slips off her goggles and leaves them to hang around her neck.  The goggles keep out the sight of those that have moved on.  In the dim light she squeezes drops into each eye to blur out the vision of the living.  And it’s unlikely their father is still alive.  Not a belief she would say to her younger sister, Lady Steamsail. 

Familiar figures wander the hall she now hurries down.  Some are inside deep alcoves that line the stone walls.  She sees the glowing faces of relatives, friends, and acquaintances staring at her between rusty bars.

In a quiet voice, she sings:

Quite the place to be

When the owner of the castle,

Is your aunt

And she wants you,

Exactly where you are

But behind the bars

Behind the bars

Not so soon aunt

Not quite yet

I am not demised

Nor ready yet,

To live

In the Other Place  

She jolts at the sound of a familiar voice.

“About time you got here.”  Mr. Intrepid’s voice sounds, weaker, than she remembers it.

“Where is your ghost, father?” she manages to whisper while slipping out a tiny, blue, ceramic vial from her bosom.

“You know what I want,” she hears Mr. Intrepid say in a stronger sounding voice.  “A hot bath, while I drink Guinness with one hand, and a cup of tea with the other.”

Lady Oolong slips on her goggles.  “Oh, you’re all battered and chained against that wall. Well then, I’ll bring your whole being back to the Real Place, and not just your soul.” 

Thanks To:

Lady Evelyn Oolong is portrayed by Taylor Norris, RMT taynorris@gmail.com

Fireandsteel.ca for the Perched Drake cane sword (see Exclusives)

Honourable Mention:

Reroll Tavern, for being a wonderous idea, where friends can go on imaginary adventures together, while drinking and eating heartily.  https://www.instagram.com/p/CTTCkcPrrid/?hl=en

Featured

The Other Place: #17 You Get Father

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Seventeen: You Get Father

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

“I’m feeling quite sanguine,” Lady Oolong says, as she wipes the blade of her cane, across a storm grey overcoat.

“The ancients will wake soonest,” Lady Steamsail says with a sigh.  She gnaws on her lower lip as she wipes the blade of her Dragonrider knife on the sea green overcoat of the other vampire.

“Accept Abhilesh; he seems to have disappeared,” Lady Oolong observes.  She takes out her pipe and lights it.  Taking a puff, she turns to her sister.  “Our Chief Shabuni did not look pleased as he sank through the floor.”  Taking another puff she asks, “Do you think he’ll understand?”

“He’ll heal,” Lady Steamsail replies with a shrug.  “Father gave you his cane, so you better get him.”

“I wonder if our real father is here,” Lady Oolong says with one more puff before she taps out the scented tobacco. 

“Do we really want to know who that is?”  Lady Steamsail asks, with an arched eyebrow.

“Hmm.  Let’s always agree that Mr. Intrepid is our real father.  In a spiritual way.  Although he is vague and cryptic.”  Lady Oolong kneels on the floor and blows the ashes of her pipe towards the ancients.  “A few more moments of protection for us.  You’ll get the explorer and oversized pup?”

“I will,” Lady Steamsail replies, thoughtfully.  “But we need Chief Shabuni to get the ghost.  A deal is a deal.”

“Does he know?”

“I think the friend in his chest knows, he can’t leave here, without the twin.”

“See you at mother’s, sister,” Lady Oolong says as she begins to dematerialize.

“If not, well met sister,” Lady Steamsail says in the direction her sister was.

Thanks To:

Lady Marina Steamsail is portrayed by Joanne Gosling Jgosling@calclosets.com

Honorable Mention:

Foxy_roxcy  

Always looking for cosplayers who can do character modeling.  Think of movie posters and book covers.  Maybe, when Taylor and I revisit A Motley Sisterhood of Pirates! we’ll be able to add to the already amazing “character” models.

Featured

The Other Place: #16 Just a Bit of Your Albino Blood and Bone

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Sixteen: Just a Bit of Your Albino Blood and Bone

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

“She looks so peaceful like that,” Lady Steamsail says as she and her sister stare down at their aunt, who’s sleeping peacefully against one of the hall’s walls.

“Just a few stabs under the ribs,” Lady Oolong says as she places the point of her cane sword against the wound in their aunt’s side.  The dark red fluid on the blade immediately beads and rolls into the wound.  “She’ll sleep for an hour or two.”

“Will be gone by then?” Lady Steamsail asks, as she toes their aunts hand mirror.  “Is that a very faint outline of our very own Chief Shabuni?”

“Yes,” Lady Oolong replies.  She picks up the mirror and holds it so both she and her sister can see its story.  “Can you hear voices?”

“Faintly,” Lady Steamsail leans in closer.  “Listen, those two vampires are talking about the gathering of the most powerful aristocrats of The Other Place.”

“That’s Baron von Athanasius holding a chain leash,” a vampire wearing a storm grey overcoat says. 

“Attached to that barbed collar around the kneeling Hugstari,” says the other vampire, who wears a sea green overcoat.  “Who is Athanasius talking to?  The one with the broad shoulders and rectangular head with the immaculate beard and mustache?”

“That is Abhilesh, the original of the name.”

“Does he belong?”

“No,” the vampire in the storm grey overcoat says.  “It’s believed, he can wander to and through any Place he desires.  Do you hear breathing behind us?”

Lady Steamsail stares at her sister.

Lady Oolong smiles back.  “Chief Shabuni will have to understand later.  No twinkling earrings this time,” she continues as the emerald green in her earrings fade.

“We should become immaterial,” Lady Steamsail says as the glow from her own earrings fades.  “I believe he’s directly below us.”

They rematerialize behind the nearly visible chief. 

Lady Oolong stabs through Chief Shabuni’s trousers into his right calve until the tip pierces his bone.  As he falls to his knees, Lady Steamsail stabs into his left calve.

As Lady Oolong steps towards the two turning vampires, Lady Steamsail wraps the Chief’s calves with handkerchiefs.  “We need your albino blood and a tinge of bone,” she explains.  Making sure the knots are tight first, she whispers in his left ear, “Wait for the ticking of the clock before you depart.”

Thanks To:

Lady Evelyn Oolong is portrayed by Taylor Norris, RMT taynorris@gmail.com

Lady Marina Steamsail is portrayed by Joanne Gosling Jgosling@calclosets.com

Fireandsteel.ca for the Perched Drake cane sword and Dragonrider folding knife (see Exclusives)

Honourable Mention:

@_melegie

I got close to having @_melgie (Melanie) to portray Roisin Moodlive in person but perhaps another time or for another character.  This is her performing a beautiful rendition of the Weeknd’s Blinding Lights.

Featured

The Other Place: #15 Hello, Aunt Thelma!

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Fifteen: Hello, Aunt Thelma!

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

“Thank you for rowing us across,” Lady Steamsail says with an enchanting smile at the two, finely dressed, rowers.

“A pleasure, maladies,” both rowers reply in unison.  While one balances the skiff, the other stands up and helps Lady Oolong and Lady Steamsail onto the dock before Castle Cumplit.

The two Ladies lean forward, and swim through the air towards the magical lyre strings, left by Chief Shabuni’s mysterious friend.  The sound of the song is faint but remains.

Hurry a fading soprano, calls to them.

I know your mother sent him to succeed

I know you’re near enough to come

And

Save him

I know so much more

I know who you’re looking for

But

The danger is great here

The gathering of the powerful is here

Hurry!

Hurry, before they discover the magic

So deep inside his bones

They enter the hall, where their aunt is staring into an antique silver mirror.  Her teeth are bared and she seems so–annoyed.

“Hello, Auntie Thelma,” Lady Oolong calls, as she unwinds the dragon head of her cane.

“We’re he to gather some individuals,” Lady Steamsail adds, flicking open her dragonrider knife.

Thanks To:

Lady Evelyn Oolong is portrayed by Taylor Norris, RMT taynorris@gmail.com

Lady Marina Steamsail is portrayed by Joanne Gosling Jgosling@calclosets.com

Fireandsteel.ca for the Perched Drake cane sword and Dragonrider folding knife (see Exclusives)

Honourable Mention:

jamlincrow maker of Steampunk watches

Featured

Positivity in Interviews and Auditions

Featured Image by Dianne McBride diannemcb@gmail.com
Featured

The Other Place: #14 A Boat To Procure

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Fourteen: A Boat To Procure

Caedar-writing-artwork.com

Lady Oolong and Lady Steamsail find themselves on the opposite shore of Countess Mlde.

Lady Oolong lowers her head and unsheathes the rapier within her dragon headed cane.   “It’s the original, you know” she says to her sister.

“It was always his prized possession,” Lady Steamsail says, as she stares around for a way to cross.  The wind over the water makes swimming through the air difficult.

I’d like to think he’s still alright, Lady Oolong sings.

Breathing in an unsafe place

You know,

I don’t think he gave in

I don’t think they know I have it

Oh, sister, Lady Steamsail sings in reply.

He’s as stubborn as a tax collector

As tough as a billy goat

I think he’s still sane

Even after so many years

With a sniffle, Lady Oolong sheathes the rapier.  “Do you see a boat we could procure.”

Lady Steamsail squints towards the lake.  “Why, I think Chief Shabuni will be saved.  There is a fine-looking skiff with two nervous rowers, just waiting our arrival.”

Lady Evelyn Oolong is portrayed by Taylor Norris, RMT taynorris@gmail.com

Lady Marina Steamsail is portrayed by Joanne Gosling Jgosling@calclosets.com

Background by Dianne McBride diannemcb@gmail.com

Check Out:

Maggie Boone https://www.instagram.com/missmaggiemoon/?hl=en

This is a clip of her singing Delaware Street

Currently she’s doing a kickstart for her debut EP: Delaware Street

https://l.instagram.com/?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.kickstarter.com%2Fprojects%2Fmaggieboone%2Fdelaware-street-maggies-debut-ep&e=AT3A_65sJZESI3jhJQG1vRPk77jGJxWDNfwPZSE_nt7-1jFmKBjmTvthiNGIzQeDi0PFfYwEhahba3DOue-ZFowmVS5XEwuqES1U0g

Featured

The Other Place: #13 Flow Through The Floor

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Thirteen: Flow Through The Floor

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As he focuses on becoming immaterial, he hears footsteps enter the hall.  Countess Thelma Mlde is no longer just an image.  Her corporeal being is almost overwhelming in its confident presence.  She’s only a few steps from him now.  In her hand is the antique silver mirror.  Anger makes her eyes an abyss of rage as she stares into it.

“Where is he?” she demands into the mirror.

Cautiously he crouches down as tingling sensations run from his fingers to his toes.  His nose grows numb.

“Sink through the floor,” Roisin Moodlive encourages him, inside his head.

He feels his body become liquid and everything gets larger in the hall as he flows downward.  Just as his eyes sink into the floor, he swears Countess Mlde stares directly at him.  If he could, he would inhale deeply but there is no breath for him to intake. 

He nearly becomes tangible as his body flows through the air of the room below.  He stares down, into a large room, filled with strange humans.  An overwhelming terror grasps a hold of his chest as he floats behind the two vampires, who brought him to the castle.  But it’s not them that terrifies him.  It’s the gathering they are staring at.

Staying ever so still, he listens in to what the vampires are saying.

With much thanks, as always, to Leah Weir for portraying Countess Thelma Mlde.

Check Out:

Maggie Boone https://www.instagram.com/missmaggiemoon/?hl=en

This is a clip of her singing Delaware Street

Currently she’s doing a kickstart for her debut EP: Delaware Street

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The Other Place: #12 An Enchanting Message

The Other Place

(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)

Blog Twelve: An Enchanting Message

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Lady Oolong is smoking her pipe outside the red door of Lady Iris’s mansion, talking to Lady Steamsail, when the sisters both stop to listen.

“Do you hear a siren’s voice melded with enchanting strings of a lyre, dear sister?” Lady Steamsail asks.

Lady Oolong takes a puff of her pipe.  “Why, yes, I do.  It seems we’re being beckoned to Countess Mlde’s castle but not by the countess.”

“Isn’t that where our stepfather, Mr. Intrepid is believed to be?” Lady Steamsail asks.  “And the spirit of The Inventor’s twin?”

“Why yes,” Lady Oolong replies.  “It’s also believed that Mr. Siku Claws and Ulysses are there as well.”

“I sense the music is from Roisin Moodlive,” Lady Steamsail says, staring thoughtfully into the direction of Countess Mlde’s castle.  “And there was a sense of Chief Shabuni, but no more.”

Lady Oolong takes a puff.  “Why is Chief Shabuni there when he should be here?”

“Twist of fate,” Lady Steamsail replies.  “I wonder if The Inventor and Mr. Clockwind have finished the clock?”

“Not to worry sister, fate has intervened,” Lady Oolong says with a final inhale.  The herb mixed with the tobacco in her pipe helps clear her mind.  “We were supposed to wait here, but now we need to put on our goggles and turn phantasmal.”

“To Castle Cumplit,” Lady Steamsail says with relish. 

Lady Evelyn Oolong portrayed by Taylor Norris, RMT taynorris@gmail.com

Lady Marina Steamsail portrayed by Joanne Gosling Jgosling@calclosets.com

Check Out:

Maggie Boone https://www.instagram.com/missmaggiemoon/?hl=en

This is a clip of her singing Delaware Street

Currently she’s doing a kickstart for her debut EP: Delaware Street

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High Heels Were Invented For Cats

High Heels Were Invented For Cats

You’re sitting at the desk

Trying to write a paper

When a lean, furry form

Jumps on your lap

Expecting to be stroked along the back

Quite ready to take a nap

To level out the thighs

You have to raise up your heels

And stay that way

While a certain kitten stretches out

And purrs

High heels were invented for cats

To keep the thighs level

While they groom themselves

While lounging

On your lap

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Book Review of: Songs Of Bittersweet Memories

Book Review of Nandita Khandelwal’s poetry and picture book:

Songs Of Bittersweet Memories

Poetry is universally known as the language of the Soul.  There are many styles: prose, haiku, limerick, ballad, and more.  Each, creating a moment, an observation, a realization, or a connection with others who have wondered or experienced the same.  In Songs Of Bittersweet Memories, Nandita reflects, encourages, and puts words to what many of us have seen or felt. 

In her book Climate Change—Health Connection, Nandita writes as a master geologist.  In Songs Of Bittersweet Memories, she is a dancer, writing swirling verses, that make up a dance of stanzas.      

Available on Amazon

Contact details 

Instagram and YouTube  – @Nandita Khandelwal

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Book Review of The New Age Herbalist

Along with writing fiction (currently Books By Authors That Never Existed: Steampunk hybrid), and fitness articles and videos, I will be talking about eco friendly technology and other matters that have to do with positive eco living.

In this video I discuss the advantages of getting a book such as, The New Age Herbalist by Richard Mabey.

The reading of the blurbs for BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone and Owner of the Gemstone; and WHISPERS

This will be my last post his year.

Have a Merry Christmas and holiday season,

and a Happy New Year most of all!!!

Swords with Souls: King of the Giants and Dwarves (Lara) B79

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

King of the Giants and Dwarves

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Lara just wants to return home.  Helping to craft not one but two swords with souls has drained her, especially the one with her grandfather’s soul, the one that now hangs on her left side. She named the sword Stian after her grandfather.  Every time she grasps the handle of the sword, she can hear her grandfather’s voice commenting on the surroundings. She hasn’t tried to ask any questions because hearing his voice answer her might break her heart. She rests her head against Aminah’s neck and sobs. Sniffing and wiping the tears away she climbs onto Aminah’s back. Nearby, Jedreck is waiting on Angus, a massive shire horse that looks more like a pony with Jedreck sitting on his back.

She swats a mosquito away. “I’d like to go now,” she says to the giant. He had told her he would guard her on her way back home. She told him she didn’t need a guardian, but he had insisted. Now he’s moving in front of her and Aminah, cutting them off from traveling down the path. Lara grabs onto the handle of her soul sword. This time her grandfather voice is silent.

Jederick is looking down at her with a conflicted expression. “I ask you to go on a side trip with me. To make another soul sword.”

She wonders how powerful the soul sword in her hand is. She had seen how well Sir Oliver’s had performed against Jederick. There is a determined but gentle glow emitting from the giant’s unblinking stare. With a sigh, she asks, “What is this for?”

“The king of the giants and dwarves is dying,” he blurts out.

“King Leopold is dying?” she asks, confused.  He seemed very much alive last she knew.  

“No, the king of the giants and dwarves,” Jederick repeats.

“There is another king?” Lara asks.

“Yes, but his existence is unknown to the Propers, as your people call themselves.”

“You want me to make a soul sword using the soul of this dying king?” She wonders if that is a good idea. She still isn’t sure how powerful these swords are. “Do I have a choice?”

Jederick bows his head. “I—I would rather it was your choice.”

“But if I refuse, you’ll try to force me?”

Now he’s looking at her with a wan smile.  His lips quiver for a moment.  “Yes.”

“You can’t make me do this, Jederick,” she says glaring up at him while clenching tighter onto the handle of the soul sword.

“Haashir has ways to,” he replies.

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Darren Joy

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Darren created the cover of Swords with Souls. The semi-transparent faces you see are my concept art of the different characters. Darren is an exceptional writer of epic and dark fantasy. Over the holiday season I highly recommend you read his dark epic Plagueborn series (see above).

*Except for a possible video, this will be my last post until the New Year.

Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B78

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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When he wakes the first thing he sees is the ribbed ceiling of an enclosed cart.  He tries to move his feet and hands then feels the constriction of rope around his ankles and wrists.  A glance to his left tells him he’s inside the carnival wagon.  Haashir is sitting beside him with a lit candle.  The man’s pointed nose and dark eyes are reading a book.  He thinks it might be the one he pulled from the river.  The dwarf, bearded woman and others are lying under blankets sleeping. 

“You must want something since I’m still a live,” he says in a raspy voice.

“I’m hoping you’ll help us as you did, Lara,” Haashir answers in his deep, quiet voice.

“If you mean the swords, you’ll need her as well,” he says while testing the strength of the ropes.  “Why the need to tie me up?”

“When I came to visit you, I didn’t hear a reply, so I went into your home to check that you were well.”  Haashir’s dark eyes are now staring intensely at him.  “I saw this book and a very interesting and large ring.  Originally, I was just going to negotiate with you, but now I wonder if you’re more than just a blacksmith.”

“I found the book and the ring in the river.”  He yanks lightly on the ropes again but there’s no give. He sees Haashir is still staring at him but this time with hooded eyelids.

“You give your word you are not a necromancer or a user of arcane,” Haashir asks in a deadly tone.

“I give you my word, I’m neither. Will I be compensated?” he asks. He’s not really in a position to bargain but neither does he have anything to lose by trying.

“Could you translate the book Lara gave you?” Haashir asks returning his gaze to the tome on his lap.

“No.”

“I can help you with that.”

The tome had numerous interesting drawings in it of how to make unique weapons.  However, he couldn’t read the list of materials or what colour to heat them to.  “What does this book say?” he asks.

“Lara’s sister Gwen is much better at translating, but it seems to be a book of philosophy and possibly a love triangle between a faie princess or queen, a half blood giant of faie and Proper parenthood, and a Proper royal, though I can’t tell of what position.”

“Read it to me to pass the time while we travel,” he says.

“The book is written by someone named Osgood in first person,” Haashir says while squinting his eyes in concentration. “I think he is also the giant. ‘Time was never a factor until she brought him to the place where I was studying the honeycombs of bees’,” Haashir begins.

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Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B77

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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When he steps onto the shore of his home the dark tinge of twilight has already covered the landscape.  Sitting on the log he often eats at is the lithe and always immaculately dressed Haashir. Beside him is a long-necked clay jug.  The giant Jedreck is nowhere to be seen.

“Let me get dressed before we talk, about whatever you have on your mind,” he says gruffly. He steps inside his home and pulls on dark brown cotton pants and a shirt. “Come in before the bugs get at you,” he calls.

Haashir steps in.

He finds it strange that the dark eyed man doesn’t glance around, as if he’s already familiar with the surroundings. “Have a seat at the table. Do you want any salted fish? I see you brought your own drink.”

“I thought we could share it,” Haashir says in a very deep voice for such a tiny man.

“I’m parched so I might drink more than my share,” he says with a grin.  He grabs two clay mugs and places them on the table. Sitting down he proffers his cup.

As Haashir fills it, he asks, “What are we sharing about?”

“I’d like you to create another sword,” Haashir says as he puts a small amount in his own mug.

The Sword Maker sniffs the brew. It smells of alcohol and blackberries. “Wine or spirits?” he asks.

“Somewhere in-between,” Haashir replies as he lifts his mug up to toast.

The Sword Maker takes a sip and then guzzles down the rest. “This must have cost you dearly,” he says holding his mug out for more. “Nice and smooth with a milky taste and no pulp or pits.”

Haashir places the stopper back on. “It’s based on a recipe Sir Ganbold taught me. His original land is famous for fermented vodka. I added blackberries and some other ingredients.”

“It’s delicious,” he says gulping the second cup down.

“How long were you in the water?” Haashir asks him.

 He shakes his head to clear the weariness from the long swim.  “Night to morning to twilight,” he mumbles. “I’m afraid we’ll have to take this conversation up later, I’m feeling–.”

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Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B76

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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The creatures with the glowing eyes or bodies are keeping ahead of him again as he swims near the bottom of the river. Whatever his lover did it’s made his lungs much stronger. The ancient ruin flies by as he swims with the undercurrent of the river. But he extends his hands to slow down when a curious glimmer appears ahead. Between balls of Marimo moss is a quarter eared woman, fully intact. Much like his lover her skin is a pinkish-green. She’s wearing the shells of the very rare pearl mussels over each breast and her navel. The glimmer he saw though, is coming from the band of silver around her head.  In the centre of the band is a Cornish green Serpentine stone. Her face appears so alive he fights the pull of the undercurrent to see if her eyelids with their dark eyelashes will open.  But the determined face stays unchanged.

Swimming rapidly again with the undercurrent he suddenly feels ill. Within the walls of another ruined building there is an average sized human skull encircled by a band of silver.  Equally spaced around the band are four smoky-clear cairngorm quartz stones. A silver chain bolted to the back of the band disappears beneath the silt of the river’s bedding. On the remaining wrist is a wide banded silver circlet with alternating stones of amber, Black Tourmaline, and obsidian. Chained nearby is the rest of the torso but missing the legs and the right hand.  A gold ring on the index finger of the lefthand glimmers with a green hue. He starts to reach for it until he realizes the stone is Moldavite.

As the sickening feeling grows, he hurries to the surface and gasps in air. But the air he inhales is foul and full of sickness. The horizon is now a dark red with blue clouds. Squinting away the water dripping from his hair he sees the dark outline of the Buttigieg Gardenery. The fire damaged tower seems to look back at him. Daring him to swim through the stagnant water that now washes back and forth from the wind. Was this what his lover wanted him to see and smell?

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Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B75

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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He dives much deeper and sees the shadowy ruins of stone and mortar buildings. Whatever wood they once contained must have rotted away. Something glitters up from a mess of iron bindings. He still feels he can hold his breath longer so he dives down and carefully reaches through the bindings and mud for the object. It’s an amethyst ring with a gold band too large for him to wear. He doubts even the giant, Jedreck has a finger thick enough to put it on.

He slips the ring loosely over his left index finger and curls the finger to keep a hold of the it. There’s something yellowish, like bone revealed from removing the ring. He kicks his legs to stay down as he wraps his right hand around it. A massive skeleton hand with a missing ring finger comes out. He feels a shiver and drops it. Swimming a little further on he sees more rusting iron bindings. He brushes them aside.  A skull with a jeweled gold crown peers back at him. The skull must be as large as his upper torso. Beside the corpse, have buried in mud, is a thick leather tome. He’s shocked that it looks undamaged. He grabs a hold of it.

The skeletal hand and skull make him feel like he’s running out of air. With the tome and ring in his left hand he kicks rapidly to get away from the ruins.

As soon his head breaks the surface of the river, he no longer sees the two beams of light.  He crawls onto the shore and sits on the bank, staring intently into the water.  He doesn’t see any sign of the glowing fish, eels or other sea creatures that created the light.

Back in his home he places the tomb on his eating table and the overly large ring on top. From a string hanging on the opposite wall of his bed, he grabs a piece of dried and salted bream. As he munches on the bream, he realizes he’ll have to buy more sea salt from traveling gypsies or request soldiers to ask their comrades to bring some with them when they pick up the new swords. He feels reenergized and a need to go back into the river.

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Author of Who Fears Death and so much more…

Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B74

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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The Sword Maker vaguely remembers her saying soothing words as she straddled his back and rubbed an ointment that smelled of arnica between his shoulder blades. “This will help the pain caused by the transformation,” she had said before kissing his upper back and leaving.

His body jolts and he cries out as a feeling akin to finely sharpened blades cut simultaneously into two sides of his back, just behind where his lungs are. He tries to sit up but the pain is too great. Digging his toes and fingers into the sheet of his bed, he can barely breathe as the cut goes deeper.  His whole-body clenches as air escapes through the slices.  But then something bizarre happens. As the skin on either side of the wounds feels like its folding slightly back, air begins escaping from his lungs. Still lying on his stomach, and covered in sweat, he falls back asleep.

When he wakes in the middle of the night; he’s starving. From a clay pot he scoops out a bowl of mashed oats and barley porridge. Stiffly he makes a fire and boils the porridge before adding some honey he bought from a neighbor. Naked he sits on a log eating as he stares across the river. After he finishes, he can smell that he stinks of sweat and decides to take a bath.

As he dunks his head underwater, he notices two strange circles of light against the pebbles of the river’s floor.  The lights are about as wide as his hands and close together. He wonders if they’re made by the moonlight and perhaps a bright star. Fascinated, he dives under the water. He sees the lights move forward as he does. He wonders if there are creatures that live in the water that glow at night. He’ll have to surface soon for air but he feels he can dive a bit deeper first.

The circles of light expand as he swims deeper.  As he does eels and fish scatter amongst the stems of water lilies and hair grass. As he goes deeper, he can see java moss growing off rocks and waterlogged wood. He is now swimming deeper than he ever has. But other than the weird flapping sensation between his shoulder blades, he feels he can stay under longer. He gazes up and the lights circle around the silky strands of hornwort, telling him he’s still close to shore.

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Movie Review of THE PHOENICIAN Scheme

Movie Review of

The PHOENICIAN Scheme

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone and BARD:  Owner of the Gemstone)

Wes Anderson’s Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is a go to movie for me.

And I thoroughly enjoyed The PHOENICIAN Scheme.  A movie about the 5% man who wants to build amazing constructions and his interaction with his daughter.  As he tries to get investors someone once close is trying to remove him, literally.  Will he succeed and is God on his side?

The main characters are highly intelligent, emotionally reserved, and straightforward—except for the shouting matches.  You might say the background is often a moving tapestry of yellows and blues with turquoise dominating most of the sets.  The conversations are more like soliloquys mixed with asides with the characters rarely talking over each other.  With Anderson’s direction and Bruno Delbonnel’s cinematography, the imagery is bright with pastel backgrounds. The close ups are reminiscent of the early black and white closeups where the characters’ reaction and expressions are accentuated.

Benicio Del Torro is perfect in the lead.  A mixture of Howard Hughes and Anthony Quinn.  Creative, solid, smart, and determined.

Mia Threapleton plays an unwavering daughter who is both compassionate and hardened by life.  She keeps her emotions in check but not her thoughts.

Michael Cera is more than the smiling German entomologists he portrays but you’ll have to watch it to find out what that means.

The movie’s atmosphere is similar to sitting in a bar where the jazz music is soft and comfortable one moment than lively and structurally chaotic the next.

Kudos to the writers:  Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola

This is a smart script with just the right amount of social, economic, and religious commentary mixed in with a good amount of action.

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Swords with Souls: Regicide? (Madame Swan) B73

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Regicide?

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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She can’t leave him to fight alone. It’s been a long time since she’s thrown her knives but what choice is there? Squeezing Fylste’s sides with her knees she gets behind the guards as they engage with Crimmthan.

Crimmthan’s thoroughbred batters one of the soldier’s shields with his flank, knocking the guard to the ground. At the same time, she sees Crimmthan slash down at the other guard’s sword hand.

These are professional guards with helmets on. She doesn’t see any protective bear skin, so she gets Fylste to halt and slides off. She charges ahead with both knives out. From behind the guard fighting with Crimmthan, she stabs blindly up into the front of the guard’s helmet. The guard impulsively elbows her. This gives Crimmthan the opportunity to cut deeply into the guard’s wrist.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the other guard getting up from the ground. Without hesitating she flicks her free knife at his visible eye. He bats it away. She runs away from where Crimmthan is while holding out her other knife feebly. There’s no sense throwing it; the guard would just block it with his shield. She steps back and sideways so the soldier’s back is to Crimmthan. At least one of them can get away.

This guard is too big and powerful for her to have any hope of escaping. As he charges her, she backpedals and slips on the rain drenched grass. There’s a whoosh sound. The guard arches his back. Through years of training, he keeps hold of his sword and shield as he makes a quarter turn. There’s another whoosh sound and he drops his sword to cover the side of his neck.

The rain is getting heavier. She glances everywhere before passing the reigns of Fylste to Crimmthann. Without another word she darts towards a wild privet shrub. She squeezes between it and a juniper bush to get to a birch tree. At the base of the birch, she digs frantically through the wet soil with her knife. As the birch grew over the years, she had to keep moving the leather pouch she kept her treasures in a little farther away. Her fingers are coated in dirt as she pulls the pouch out. She places a hand on the trunk of the birch and taking heavy breaths. Being more careful, she moves cautiously between the wild privet and the juniper. Squinting through the rain she can see Crimthann glance around before yanking his arrows out of the dead soldiers while holding the reigns of his horse and Fylste.

She hurries to him and takes Fylste’s reign. She places the pouch into one of Fylste’s saddlebags. Terrified but determined she collects her other throwing knife. While pulling her dagger free of Sir Emil’s right eyesocket, she scans everywhere as Crimthann yanks out the last of his arrows. When he’s done, she sees him take a dagger out of one of the guard’s sheaths and carve something into his forehead.

After Crimmthann mounts his horse, he nods at her. She climbs into Fylste’s saddle and follows him into a ravine that he keeps them in for a short while before they climb up the bank and head into a woodlot with a path. When they come to a road, she’s familiar with, he rides beside her.

“Why the arrows?” she asks, “And what did you put on his forehead.”

“The arrows have my design,” he replies. “Brass collars for weight. Good for shooting through high winds and rain but only at a short distance. I put what I hope is a simple but clear symbol of Sir Ganbold’s family on the soldier’s forehead.

She glances up into the pelting rain. “Is that honorable and shouldn’t we pull over?”

“Not yet,” he replies. “We want the rain to deform our tracks. I will admit my sins to him and his family, if I ever see any of them again.”

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Swords with Souls: Regicide? (Madame Swan) B72

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Regicide?

caedar-writig-artwork.com

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She gasps.

“We are now under martial law,” Sir Emil continues in a lustful tone. “And the first law is that all women are to be married so that they can have children. The queen agrees with Regent Olaf that it is essential the kingdom increases its population.”

“But we have so few men,” she says.

“We will now be a polygamous society. Women who are not married will be sold to the highest bidder.” He glowers up at her. “Second, third, and such wives must abide by their husband’s and his first wife’s every rule. Not doing so will be punishable by death.  Your brothel has been expropriated for the use of the kingdom to sell off unwed women. Are you married, Madame Swan?”

“I have accepted a marriage proposal,” she replies. She tries to think of how many girls work for her presently. If—when she marries Crimthann—they’ll purchase as many girls as they can.

“Since it hasn’t occurred yet, I am buying you as one of my extra wives.”

“Extra wives?” she asks.

“All your former workers have been sold already.” He leans over and gives a toothy smile. “Lucky I got you first.” He reaches for the reigns of her horse.

“What about Carl and Richard?” she asks as she grasps the handles of her knives.

Sir Emil shrugs. “They ran.”

Good she thinks. “I don’t think I can bear children.”

“We’ll have lots of opportunity to find out.”

She feels him pull the reigns tighter. Oh, well she thinks. It would have been nice to be married but she has no intentions of becoming a sex slave. “Did you take part of the rape and murder of the Ganbold family members?” Her voice is now cold and deadly.

“Those are treasonous words,” he warns as he uses one hand to grab the hem of her riding dress.

She spits into his eyes as she draws her nearest knife.

Sir Emil releases his grip and steps back, blinking his left eyelid as blood pours out of his right eye where a dagger is sunk deeply.

Madame Swan hears a whooshing sound near her left ear and glances ahead to the four other guards. One of them grasps his neck where an arrow now juts out. The sound of controlled hoof steps comes closer to her. She reaches forward and yanks her knife free. Sir Emil glares at her with his one good eye and draws his oversized bronze sword. She heaves her entire upper body forward and cuts open his forehead. As he wipes the blood from his left eye to see she slashes him across the neck.

Another arrow whooshes by her. Sir Emil is on the ground gasping as he tries to stifle the blood pouring from his neck with his hands. The only two remaining guards charge her way. They have their short swords drawn and leather hardened shields up. She knows she can’t beat them with knives. As she encourages Fylste to flee, Crimmthan charges by.

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