Gravely

“But why not master the bow, or even seek out the arcane?”
“…”
“You always return hurt, sometimes gravely. The distance offered would at least
mitigate that, would it not?”
“…”
“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
“No, I am. Your concerns are appreciated, and you do raise some good points. But
while the bows and magics of the world offer degrees of safety they lack that vital
feeling of catharsis. When a cataclysmic encounter nears its end, and the axe
blade splinters a beasts arm into a mess of crimson and bone. When that
beast cries out and the final arc smashes into its side, rending flesh in twain.
That is catharsis. And without that, I can’t do this. Distance cannot give that
feeling. I hope you understand this, why I shall carry this axe forever more.”

~~~

More Salt and Sanctuary and Bloodborne inspired writing.

Music I listened to as I wrote this:

Good stuff.

Seek

And from the ocean they shamble forth, salt crusted hulks of sinew and spines
carrying great axes of leviathan bone and hammers of deep ocean rock. Having
advanced upon the many castles of the kingdom they rend them asunder, the dust
scattering in the wind. And with their violence and fury not sated, they move
further inland.

Then the rain dripped through the roof, rousing me from sleep. And so I move to
a dry corner and seek sleep once more so they may finish their work and the
kingdom can be rebuilt a new.

In dream of course. For everything is in dream.

~~~

What I listened to as I wrote this:

Trying to make engaging with the Japanese language consistent. That should help.

Small

The world is big, and I am small. Yet, to the west there are dragons with
diamond hard claws that break mountains asunder and even they are small. To
the east krakens splinter ships across the vast oceans, and even they are small.
Down in the southern regions a great turtle carries many forests on its back and
even that is small. And up in the northern distance massive shambling hulks break
apart castles with ease. And even they are small. For this is a big world, and we
are so very small.

~~~

Random thing is random. Well, partly inspired by Salt and Sanctuary, which I’ve been playing the ever loving crap out of.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Yay for Kantai.

Elsewhere

The spirit isn’t willing, and the flesh would rather be elsewhere.

It has been difficult, the last few days. That dragon that insisted on following
me. A platoon of dead knights that simply wouldn’t take a sword through the gut as
a leave me alone gesture. And those eagles that honestly thought dive bombs and
ambushes were what my crumpled body needed.

The tower was clearly part of a castle at some point. But time and other elements
have worn the rest away. And at some point the tower will probably fall as well.
But for tonight it will make a decent abode. And inside will be safer than outside.

Door hinges that have long since abandoned any purpose in life. It simply tumbles to
the ground sending rats scurrying in every direction but door way bound. No quiet
entrance here.

A tight spiral of winding stairs, arcing ever upwards. I can see where the old
corridors would have split off in the old castle. Now, just splitting off into
oblivion.

Darkened corridor. So much so I pick up an old shield just to toss it into the
void. A giant man-trap spring shuts. One must be careful of such things.

Sword and shield drawn.

Sword and shield withdrawn. I can see a room at the end of the corridor. Not much
left for the sword and shield to do for now. Those goblins the last thing they’ll
get for a while. Hopefully. I’m tired.

Tipping open a time-worn door. All quiet here and gaps in the wall lets the starlight
flood on through. And there in the corner, piles of wood. That will do.

The warmth, the cackling of the wood. The little, beautiful glow that it gives off.
Just something wonderful about a bonfire. I’ll board the door at some point. But right
now, I’ll enjoy the fire for just a little while longer.

~~~

I want to play Dark Souls at one point. I’ve just got Salt and Sanctuary, and that’s fun.

What I listened to as I typed this up:

Podcasts are great. Even more so with Colt Cabana.

Glow

On this day that certain dragon will roar
causing the heavens to shake
and send all the stars on an earthbound path.
A pair of blue wings will shoot into the firmament
a spear of crystal will glow oh so bright
with the intent of flooding the star barren sky
with all the light it can muster.

~~~

On this day that certain dragon will roar
and heaven itself will quiver and quake
causing all the stars in the sky to crash earthwards.
A pair of blue wings will ascend into the firmament
with a crystal spear that glows so very bright
intent on filling the sky with light once more
with all the illumination it can provide.

~~~

Poetry. It’s been a while. And I’ve been playing Odin Sphere Leifthrasir, and that’s a really great game.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

All the time.

Ash/Miasma/Catharsis

Tattered remnants of a cape, futilely grasping at the wind. A rifle, and a pair
of knives. The last items in my possession.

It must have happened quickly. When I had returned from supply gathering the forests
had been swept clean and the mountain sides had been scaled. It caught the clouds
and soon raged across the sky, burning it down, causing everything to fall in.
The villages immolation was inevitable.

Under the great clouds of ash and smoke the colossus slunk away. A lazy sway of its
tail crumpled a once towering mountain. I sat there, watching that, and then
everything else burning, and burning.

The fire still burns. Days have passed.

The rifle has range, yet is heavy. The knives are more dangerous to use, yet they
are light. The knives come with. It’s a matter of catharsis. To break that hide,
to see the blood pool on the ground, to see the beast succumb right in front of
me. I need that.

~~~

The fire has finally exhausted itself, heat long since faded. But a thick miasma
lingers over the devastation. Animals have yet to return. The birds won’t fly
over, only tentatively circling the mountains.

On high the miasma has mostly dissipated, leaving only barren paths cleaned of
vegetation. These ash bathed paths will be my only companions for some time.

Ash clings to my boots, my cape, my being. I have no way to remove it. Something
I’ll have to carry with me.

With the moon struggling against the clouds and torchlight’s limited radius the
navigation remains a difficult one. And with mist hanging down low viewing the ashen
path somewhat difficult.

The clouds sink into the night and now free moon beams arc over the sky. One snags
on a pair of horns protruding from the mist. Then another wraps around the slow sway
of a tail. That tail.

One last go with the whetstone. It’s time to head down.

~~~

It’s squatted down amidst the miasma and the detritus, gorging on ash and immolated
trees. I’m too consumed with anger to as I blow my chance of a sneak attack with snap
of a common tree branch. At speed the beast turns around, letting loose a heaven
shaking roar. Knives are drawn.

One lies broken on the blackened ground. One rests in the hilt, blood dripping from
the long edge.

The beast refuses to get up. A gash across it’s abdomen runs deep. The moment it
rises the beast will spill across the valley. So it just lies there releasing
anguished breaths.

I should be filled with happiness, lost in exhilaration, awash with catharsis.
Yet all I can manage is a long stare into the creatures fading eyes as I sit on the
ground cradling my side. It would take an immense effort to stand.

Stars shine bright across the sky whilst our heavy breath shamble out into the
cold air. Both our fates are abundantly clear. Neither of us will see the morning.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

~~~

All three bits. As I said will be going to redraft at some point. I like it, but right now it’s a proof of concept as opposed to a finished piece.

Music I listened to as I put it all together:

Still playing.

Catharsis

It’s squatted down amidst the miasma and the detritus, gorging on ash and immolated
trees. I’m too consumed with anger to as I blow my chance of a sneak attack with snap
of a common tree branch. At speed the beast turns around, letting loose a heaven
shaking roar. Knives are drawn.

One lies broken on the blackened ground. One rests in the hilt, blood dripping from
the long edge.

The beast refuses to get up. A gash across it’s abdomen runs deep. The moment it
rises the beast will spill across the valley. So it just lies there releasing
anguished breaths.

I should be filled with happiness, lost in exhilaration, awash with catharsis.
Yet all I can manage is a long stare into the creatures fading eyes as I sit on the
ground cradling my side. It would take an immense effort to stand.

Stars shine bright across the sky whilst our heavy breath shamble out into the
cold air. Both our fates are abundantly clear. Neither of us will see the morning.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

~~~

Part three. This is going to redraft at some point. I like the 3 parts, but they do read more as a proof of concept then something good right now.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Extended version is awesomes.

Miasma

The fire has finally exhausted itself, heat long since faded. But a thick miasma
lingers over the devastation. Animals have yet to return. The birds won’t fly
over, only tentatively circling the mountains.

On high the miasma has mostly dissipated, leaving only barren paths cleaned of
vegetation. These ash bathed paths will be my only companions for some time.

Ash clings to my boots, my cape, my being. I have no way to remove it. Something
I’ll have to carry with me.

With the moon struggling against the clouds and torchlight’s limited radius the
navigation remains a difficult one. And with mist hanging down low viewing the ashen
path somewhat difficult.

The clouds sink into the night and now free moon beams arc over the sky. One snags
on a pair of horns protruding from the mist. Then another wraps around the slow sway
of a tail. That tail.

One last go with the whetstone. It’s time to head down.

~~~

Part three coming somewhat soon. Part one is called Ash. Writing lately has been akin to smashing ones head against a wall.

Music I listened to as I wrote this:

Sugar with coffee and cream.

Ash

Tattered remnants of a cape, futilely grasping at the wind. A rifle, and a pair
of knives. The last items in my possession.

It must have happened quickly. When I had returned from supply gathering the forests
had been swept clean and the mountain sides had been scaled. It caught the clouds
and soon raged across the sky, burning it down, causing everything to fall in.
The villages immolation was inevitable.

Under the great clouds of ash and smoke the colossus slunk away. A lazy sway of its
tail crumpled a once towering mountain. I sat there, watching that, and then
everything else burning, and burning.

The fire still burns. Days have passed.

The rifle has range, yet is heavy. The knives are more dangerous to use, yet they
are light. The knives come with. It’s a matter of catharsis. To break that hide,
to see the blood pool on the ground, to see the beast succumb right in front of
me. I need that.

~~~

Parts 2 and 3 coming soon-ish. Writings been a struggle lately so it’s nice to get something out.

Missing you.