Words 'n' stuff
Aug. 27th, 2003 11:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
niwandajonesIt occurs to me that I really should take this opportunity to do what my family, friends, and thesis advisors have constantly recommended: write, write, write.
As it stands, I'm running the risk of becoming the blogger that simply posts wacky images with little or no original content. Perhaps even worse, I may become some kind of snide post-modernist parody of such a blogger.
I don't want to be that guy.
But, since I'm really stuck for things to write about today, I'm just gonna post something I wrote a few weeks back. It's a vignette I wrote set in the world of Exalted, White Wolf's stunning RPG in which the players portray demigods reincarnated into a world that's moved past them, but needs them all the more for it. Though the people call you Anathema, you're one of the Chosen few who's puissance and drive can truly reshape the world.
Yes, yes, I know that's kinda WW's shtick: "You're really powerful, but everyone hates you, and you can't do anything about anything! ANGST!" But since Exalted drops the last bit -- the characters are encouraged to go around and beat up the setting (or seduce it, or imprison it in a huge crystal mountain) -- it's got a very different feel.
Yes, I realize that nothing I fear becoming could be worse than someone who writes fanfic for ROLE-PLAYING GAMES.
But, fuck it. Here's the vignette.
Sesus Karnak, like any leader of men, had tried to antcipate what his enemy would bring to bear when they finally met in combat. His enemy was Anathema, and so his musings had ranged far and wide: barbarian hordes, behemoths, automatons.
What he had not expected was a simple covered cart, pulled by a single yeddim.
As the cart pulled to a halt in front of the vanguard of Karnak's legion, the Dynast summoned the courage to ride forward. A Child of the Blessed Isle could do no less -- certainly not while backed by such a force of arms.
Half way between his lines and the cart, Karnak stopped and called out, "Have you come to surrender yourself to the Realm's justice?"
The Anathema had moved to the back of the cart. "No," he called back, picking up a golden bow.
Karnak bristled. "Then why have you come?"
The bowman looked at the Dynast silently. And then he pulled back the cover from the cart, revealing arrows. Thousands of arrows, packed into quivers and boxes and sacks, filling the cart from end to end and sprouting from it like a porcupine's quills.
"I've come to kill your army," spoke the Anathema.
And so it was that Sesus Karnak departed from the Threshold, with his legion's dying screams still echoing in his ears.
As it stands, I'm running the risk of becoming the blogger that simply posts wacky images with little or no original content. Perhaps even worse, I may become some kind of snide post-modernist parody of such a blogger.
I don't want to be that guy.
But, since I'm really stuck for things to write about today, I'm just gonna post something I wrote a few weeks back. It's a vignette I wrote set in the world of Exalted, White Wolf's stunning RPG in which the players portray demigods reincarnated into a world that's moved past them, but needs them all the more for it. Though the people call you Anathema, you're one of the Chosen few who's puissance and drive can truly reshape the world.
Yes, yes, I know that's kinda WW's shtick: "You're really powerful, but everyone hates you, and you can't do anything about anything! ANGST!" But since Exalted drops the last bit -- the characters are encouraged to go around and beat up the setting (or seduce it, or imprison it in a huge crystal mountain) -- it's got a very different feel.
Yes, I realize that nothing I fear becoming could be worse than someone who writes fanfic for ROLE-PLAYING GAMES.
But, fuck it. Here's the vignette.
Sesus Karnak, like any leader of men, had tried to antcipate what his enemy would bring to bear when they finally met in combat. His enemy was Anathema, and so his musings had ranged far and wide: barbarian hordes, behemoths, automatons.
What he had not expected was a simple covered cart, pulled by a single yeddim.
As the cart pulled to a halt in front of the vanguard of Karnak's legion, the Dynast summoned the courage to ride forward. A Child of the Blessed Isle could do no less -- certainly not while backed by such a force of arms.
Half way between his lines and the cart, Karnak stopped and called out, "Have you come to surrender yourself to the Realm's justice?"
The Anathema had moved to the back of the cart. "No," he called back, picking up a golden bow.
Karnak bristled. "Then why have you come?"
The bowman looked at the Dynast silently. And then he pulled back the cover from the cart, revealing arrows. Thousands of arrows, packed into quivers and boxes and sacks, filling the cart from end to end and sprouting from it like a porcupine's quills.
"I've come to kill your army," spoke the Anathema.
And so it was that Sesus Karnak departed from the Threshold, with his legion's dying screams still echoing in his ears.
