Gyrfalcon

Across the island, Kaleyra awoke slowly, luxuriating in the soft warmth of the early morning, feeling almost lazy as she contemplated rolling over for another few minutes of sleep. Shaking her head, she instead wondered why she had not been woken earlier as she turned over and sat up, stretching first her arms and then her wings, enjoying the feeling of her muscles loosening and glad that her wounded wing only twinged a little. Looking around and running her hands through her hair, she saw that a small fire was burning, and that Y’Tren, Gyrfalcon, and Myth were already awake and clustered around it, Y’Tren and the half-elf apparently working on breakfast for the party. Timothy was still sleeping at the other end of the clearing, snoring quietly but determinedly. Pushing her hair back from her face, Kaleyra wandered over to the stream that babbled quietly just out of sight of the camp and splashed her face with its cool water before taking a drink and changing into fresh clothing. Returning to the camp, she smiled shyly at the three in front of the campfire. “Good morning.” she said, knowing it to be a fair description of the morning as well as a greeting. “Good morning.” Gyrfalcon and Y’Tren replied, and Myth stayed silent. Interestingly enough, to Kaleyra at least, the assassin was trying to stay in what little shadow there could be on such a bright morning. Perhaps old habits? the scholar wondered to herself. “Why didn’t anyway wake me earlier?” Kaleyra enquired as she sat down in the open space between Myth and Y’Tren, across from Gyrfalcon. The half-elf smiled as he replied “Y’Tren and I decided that we should let everyone get a bit of extra sleep after everything that happened yesterday. We all certainly deserved it! Unfortunately for most of us, old habits are hard to break, so we were up early anyway. It’s still nice to sleep on dry land, though, and even better to be in a forest, even the outskirts.” Y’Tren nodded. “This is a pleasant isle- I could almost believe that the illusion that we had to defeat to find this place was meant to keep such beauty from the world outside.” He ended the statement with a small smile to show that he was joking. “Perhaps.” Gyrfalcon said, more reserved. He filled a bowl with hot oat meal and handed it to Myth, then filled another one and handed it to Kaleyra. Two more bowls were filled for himself and Y’Tren, and the remainder was left in the pot close to the fire to keep it warm for Timothy, whenever he should wake. “I wish there was a bit more variety for breakfast, but I haven’t had time to hunt for fresh fruit or game.” the half-elf said, his voice slightly wistful for something other then the bland shipboard fare.

Ozy- if you check the old Tower of the Elders, you can see how to access the account created for you. Name of that account: Ozymandias.

The half-elf cheers and applauds as the credits roll. As the movie theater clears out, he makes use of a restroom, then goes and buys the ticket for the second showing. "Don't you get free tickets, Gyr? You were an actor in it..." Falcon asks, and Gyrfalcon nods. "Sure, I got free tickets- but they only apply to the first showing. Now I have to pay like everyone else." "What happens to the money, anyway?" Falcon wondered, as wolves have little use for gold. The half-elf points to where the purple fuzzies are admiring the small mound of gold in front of them. "Repayment for their part in the movie, I think." Gyrfalcon said. "Oh." OOC: Excellent work, Canid! Well worth the wait. Gyrfalcon and Falcon gives it two thumbs up!

Hey, pretty spiffy! I likewise had some of my work (a pair of poems) published in a school magazine... as you said, nothing too big, but nice all the same.

Done.

No, though it might take me a while to find you and give you your title back. The roll call is there because it's an easy place to check that everyone has their proper title.

*applauds* Pretty good, Vincent.

Thank you, Valdar. Hm... who and what influences me? Authors: Terry Pratchet Raymond E. Feist Robert Jordan David Eddings Terry Goodkind (Good description, but he's almost ghoulishly detailed in the sacking/raping/murder of cities...) Michael A. Stackpole (Find and read the Dragoncrown Cycle!) J.R.R. Tolkien R. A. Salvatore Tad Williams and a host of other authors I can't remember as well. Music: 3 Doors Down Lifehouse Linken Park Game Remixes from OverClocked Remixes ...and quite a bit of other music that doesn't hold as many spots as those four. Poetry: Actually, very little to none. I don't really read poetry. Other Influences: The Bards of Terra from the old Blitz 1 Banquet Hall the fine community at the Archmage Conservatory... ...and the great community here, at the Pen. Thank you all for the wonderful stories, poetry, music, friendships and more!

Wow... great job, Yui-chan.

The half-elf laughs quietly Good one, Peredhil! I assume most of the second lines are said sotto voice.

Would you care to give us reasons why you want to quit?

Of course, Falcon, we believe you... That night... Falcon yawned, but smiled as well- Gyrfalcon had bought his excuse, despite how flimsy it was! What a sucker he was. It was only when he opened the door to his room, did he realize that the half-elf might have been plotting revenge.

Easy... almost too easy. He thought, sliding through the shadows that were his home, his eyes picking out details that were lost to the light-dwellers. He smiled and ran his tongue over his teeth for the thousandth time as he silently closed in on his prey. She walked through the night, but without the confidence of her stalker. Used to the streets during the day, they became a different place during the night. Darker, with a menacing aura they lacked during the hours when the sun rode the sky. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she unconsciously began to walk faster, somehow sensing that she was being followed. The hunter watched his prey move faster, and knew that the prey had scented the predator. But this prey had no chance of getting away, and could only prolong the inevitable. He likewise began to move faster, abandoning stealth for speed. The woman heard footsteps behind her, on what had been a deserted street. Far from any hope of help, she reacted the only way she could think to- she ran. Within a few blocks, the breath burned in her throat, and she stumbled blindly, turning corners randomly, hoping to throw off her pursuer. The hunter’s lips skinned back in a feral smile, the moonlight limning his teeth, lingering longer on two of them then the others. His blood surged and hummed in the thrill of the chase. The woman turned right, and he felt what was almost disappointment- she had made her mistake already. Underneath the momentary disappointment rose the euphoria of the kill, so close he could almost taste it. The woman’s eyes widened as she took in the back of the alley, a solid brick wall without the handy crates or barrels that the heroes of action films used to scramble over. Turning around with her back to the wall, she saw her hunter enter the alley, walking calmly now, confidently. She searched desperately for escape, but found none. More quickly then she could believe, he was only a few feet away. “I- I have money, please take it, but don’t hurt me-“ She said, but broke off in a scream as his hands shot out. One hand covering her mouth, twisting her head to the side, the other pinning her shoulder to the wall. “I don’t want your money, baby... all I want is your sweet, sweet blood.” the man said with a sinister laugh. He pressed against her and she tried to scream through his hand, hoping someone, anyone could hear her. But no one did. No one came. She felt pain flare in her neck as he bent his head and bit her, and slowly, her vision dimmed as her blood pumped out of her body. ----- The predator licked his lips as he stepped away from the woman’s body. He smeared blood from his mouth across the sleeve of his jacket as he wiped the blood from his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth again, all normal- except for the two surgically enhanced canines. The doctor he had paid for them had thought he was part of the Goth crowd, and was willing to make the cosmetic change for a nice fee. But the change had not been merely a cosmetic effect, but to make the man more fully what he knew he was- a hunter of men, a drinker of blood. A vampire. The self-dubbed vampire bent down and dragged the woman’s corpse into the corner of the alley, where she hopefully wouldn’t be found for a while. He knew that the discovery of her body was inevitable, but best not to let the prey know where the hunter had recently been. As it was, a few of his other prey, caught and consumed, had been found by the cattle. They had panicked, of course, but the only ones who knew the truth had been laughed down. The ‘vampire’ laughed- the cattle thought that vampires were a myth. Well, he was no myth... Leaving the alley, the man glanced left and right, confirming that there were no watchers. Then he left, walking more slowly now, blending with the shadows and becoming one with them to avoid notice. Yet as stealthy as he was, one watcher saw him. One watcher took note of the alley he emerged from, and stole into it. The watcher impassively surveyed the blood splashed on the wall of the alley, and the corpse stuffed in the corner of the alley like so much trash. Then the watcher left, to go report what she had seen. ----- "...In other news, another body was found by city authorities, this one only hours old. Identified as twenty-seven year old Barbara Strysen, the victim was found dead at the scene. Once again, the distinctive paired holes were found on her neck, making her the twenty-ninth woman to be killed since the serial killer began his rampage. Authorities urge citizens to walk in groups if they must be out at night, and to be careful and report any suspicious activity they see. Unfortunately, the police still do not have any leads in this case..." The hunter cursed the TV, angry that his latest victim had been found so soon. And to label him a serial killer! The prey had no idea what they were facing- no idea at all. They didn’t realize that they were the cattle, and he, the hunter. Still, no matter how the so-called authorities bleated, there would always be prey out and about, confident that he would not find them, or that they could take care of themselves- cattle thinking that they could beat the wolf. The man smiled cruelly- normally he would force his passions to wait, and allow several days to go by, to allow the cattle to become unwary and careless, as they did after a day or two. But tonight, just to show the cattle who was in charge, he’d take another from the herd, and maybe leave her where she could be easily found... ----- ”Do you understand?” the voice in the middle said. The woman nodded, staring into the cloaking shadows, hoping to strip them away to see who exactly was speaking to her. Like always, the deep gloom defeated her, leaving her with only three robed silhouettes- neither of the three either large enough or small enough to say if they were male or female, though the voice of the speaker in the middle was male. “Do you accept your mission?” The voice pressed, and she nodded. “I do.” she said firmly. “Then go.” The speaker said before they faded into the shadows, leaving her alone in the room. Turning, she left as well, to go collect the supplies she would need. ---- The sun had sunk once more into its bed and darkness reigned once more. Tonight, so soon after the last murder, few were out, and those who were out had taken the authorities’ advice to heart and traveled in groups of anywhere from three to more then a dozen. Several of the groups were clearly well-armed, and the ‘vampire’ laughed at the thought that they might see them, much less be able to harm him. He was a vampire! He was the predator, and they, the prey! They might seek to duck and evade, but they could not hope to resist. But he was not interested in facing one of these groups, for he knew that to drink any blood from the group would mean wasting a great deal of precious blood from the rest of the group, for no one could know what he looked like. Silently, he slid away into the shadows, and haunted the night, looking for the proper prey. ----- The moon rode high overhead when he found her. She was walking alone, slowly. Perhaps she was lost in thought and had lost her way. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was his prey tonight. Silently, he slipped into the shadows and began to follow her. As the minutes passed, he noticed her aimless wanderings, and felt a pang of disappointment- like the one before, she would be an easy kill. His disappointment grew, and he almost turned around and left as she wandered right into an alley, but he had already selected her, and he would not go back on his promise to himself. “Crap!” her voice said from the alley, and he knew that she must have finally been broken from her reverie, and realized that she had made a mistaken turning. As he filled the entrance to the alley, so like the last one, he grinned wickedly at the thought of how bad a mistake it had been. “What do you want?” she asked, and he took no notice of the tone of her voice, lacking fear. He knew that his prey sometimes tried to pretend that they were not afraid in the beginning, but they always begged for their lives in the end. He walked towards the woman, standing at the back of the alley. “Go away.” she said, her voice still calm and unhurried. She raised her hands, but lightning-fast, he grabbed her wrists hard and pressed against her to keep her from trying to kick or run around him. He grinned at her, letting the light play over his fangs. “Your blood is mine.” he hissed, his head bending towards her neck. As the points of his fangs touched the soft skin of her neck, he heard her still calm voice. “No, your blood is mine.” Confused, he hesitated for a second, and pain flared in his neck. He faltered, and she easily freed her hands from his grip. She gripped the back of his head in one hand and clutched his shirt with the other, her grip inhumanly strong. And all the while, she drank greedily from the ‘vampire’s neck. Frantic, the false vampire grabbed her head and tried to pull it away from his neck, but he could not budge her an inch. His strength began to leave his body with his blood, and slowly he slumped against her, until only her strong grip held him up. He stared up at the moon in horror, the predator having found a predator of its own. The light slowly left his eyes. The true vampire licked her lips and grimaced- the man’s blood was sour and tainted by his various habits, but it was blood none the less. Gripping his hair, she easily dragged him to the entrance of the alley where he would be easily found in the morning, and then retrieved a few items she needed. ----- “...a man’s body was found a week ago, his age estimated to be in the mid twenties. Currently, police have no identification for him, and ask anyone who knows of a missing friend to please call the number provided below. Like twenty-nine women before him, the man had a pair of strange puncture marks on his neck and was drained of blood, but unlike the women, his mouth had been filled with garlic and his head severed from his body. In addition, a wooden stake had been driven through his heart. Police are uncertain as to what this means, but forensic tests have tentatively linked him to the sites of several of the murders. Police have admitted that two of his teeth had been surgically lengthened, and on a hopeful note, no more murders have been committed since this last one a week ago. Quite possibly, the man feel prey to some sort of vigilante justice, though who would take it out on him, and what drained him of his blood remains a mystery. This is Ann Colers, for Channel 9 News.”

Well, in the snake's case, just the front end, where the poisonous fangs are. In the panther's case, everything did. Tail puffed, hind legs trying to claw me, trying to turn around so it can do more damage with its front legs and teeth... lets just say that I burned all my 'good ranger' karma getting it to calm down.

I've done something like this, though the lines taken were from a book. *might have to go dig it up at some point* Good work, and yes, remember to credit the other poets.

*laughs* Thank you Dopey, for the thought, but I'm still pretty sure it was Canid who came up with an idea like that. It would be wrong of me to take her credit for my own. Jonathan Wolfe- the three rappers you can thank are Wyvern, Stick, and Xradion.

Way, way, way back when I was first starting Archmage (near the start of my online 'life' as it were, strangely enough.) I was sitting at a computer, trying to think of what I wanted to call my first mage. My mind ran through the traditional movie and book ripoffs, but I rejected them all, as I wanted a name that would last, not go out of style a few months later. Out of nowhere, the word 'gyrfalcon' popped into my head. Shrugging, I set that as my mage's name, and thus Gyrfalcon was born. In due time, I found the (old) bulletin boards, and began to post. I like to think that my first posts were not the standard newbie idiocy, and given the fact that I wasn't flamed, I assume that I asked intelligent questions. Either way, I eventually wandered into the Blitz 1 Banquet Hall. (Tzimfemme, you may or may not remember when some weird person named Gyrfalcon first showed up. ) There I eventually fell into a band of RPers such as LLyL, Tzimfemme, Joat, Shurak, and others. I hesitently began to join in at the outskirts of the RPs, and they accepted me. In fact, I eventually became friends with them all. So time passed, wars were waged against multimages (those who possess more then one account on the same server) and guilds (which were illegal on the server). Eventually, the new boards were formed, and the RPers of many servers found their way to the Conservatory. I was one of those people, and I became part of a community of writers that suffered little from flamewars or spam, as I think all the big words intimidated the standard idiots who spark off those things. Eventually, I heard rumors of a writing guild called The Pen is Mighter Than the Sword. I actually investigated the first humble board, but with my duties in the Archmage forums and the number of stories I was engaged in, I decided not to join. Yet more time passed, and once again, I heard word of the Pen, risen once more. This time, I decided to investigate (especially when I found out that Bards of Terra got free membership. ) and joined. I've been here ever since. *looks above* So this is... the history of Gyrfalcon as a writer. The character himself slowly formed through the RPs I engaged in, first as a mighty mage and warrior, then stripped of his magic as I sought to balance him and make him more... 'real'. The last name is a spur of the moment creation, but serves well. Thus, I am Gyrfalcon No'Dessu. the half-elf bows I think you for listening to my rambling.

Ah yes.... that was more then... interesting. And for everyone's information, I was not swinging from the vines because I *wanted* to, I was swinging from them because someone pushed me out of the tree. *glances at Jonathan* How was I supposed to know that the first thing I caught was a giant snake's tail? Or the next thing was a panther's tail? Ah well, all's well that ends well.... the panther ate the sneak and went away to sleep off his meal. I will note that I do still wake up screaming every so often, imaginging that I'm falling forever, clutching a snake's tail in one hand and a panther's tail (with the attached and angry panther) in the other. The half-elf shudders. (And no, *don't* ask how a snake and a panther made it into a northern forest retreat. To this day, I don't know either.)

Seeing the bandits breach the protective circle of the wagons, Daryl knew that he and the others had to act fast, or else the bandits would slaughter the merchants and their guards. Disregarding the potential consequences, he charged towards the circle of the wagons, and noticed that Usagi was already there among the bandits, distracting them from their planned butchering. Daryl planned to the same, but in a much more noticeable manner. Daryl scrambled up the nearest wagon, a rolling box on wheels type, and leapt from the roof. As he fell, he twisted around in a sweeping kick that connected hard with his target’s skull, blasting him from his horse. The horses in turn began to panic at the scent of the large predator in their midst, and while the bandits kept them under control, the unconscious man and a pair near Usagi died quickly. Unconscious, the man never moved as a horse’s hoof came down on his skull with grim finality. The other two focused too much on their horses and not enough on what the anthropomorphic rabbit bearing down on them was doing. Meanwhile, Daryl was more intent on dodging then causing damage, though he reached out and clawed at legs, arms, and bodies as they presented themselves. However, most of his movements were designed to keep him away from the swords and axes of the bandits, who were frantically trying to kill the creature in the middle of their formation before it did something horrible to them all. One of them, however, recognized Daryl for what he was. Calmly pulling an arrow with a silver-washed tip from his quiver, the man nocked his horse bow and pulled the feathers of the arrow to his check with a tight grimace, the arrowhead centered unwaveringly on Daryl’s back. The man slowly relaxed the pressure on the arrow and lowered the bow, even as Daryl leapt behind a man and stabbed a dagger plucked from the man’s belt into his back, through his heart. The horse reared in panic, and Daryl leapt free, claws transforming another man’s face into a bloody ruin. The archer looked down, at the katana standing out from his chest, and his sight grew dim as he slumped from his horse. Usagi scooted into the saddle and retrieved his katana, then kicked his newly acquired mount towards the melee centered around the werefox, shouting a war cry as he began to lash out with his katanas. Quickly, he cut his way through to Daryl, who was finishing off a bandit on the ground. “Done here? Then there are more outside. Come.” Usagi said before spurring the horse towards the gap in the circle, leaving Daryl facing the surviving guards and merchants. The guards clutched their weapons tightly, almost as afraid of their strange saviors as they were of their enemies. “Try to keep them outside the circle. Daryl said dryly before rolling under a wagon and outside the circle himself. Springing to his feet, he hurried towards where he heard screaming about giant cat-demons, to see if Katzaniel wanted help cleaning up.

Good song, Tasslehoff! I like the beat and the refrain. My only complaint is that lines that go like this: Standing tall; Always here; Through the thick and thin, where they're three parts rather then two, seem to go on a little too long, but that might just be me. the half-elf shrugs Either way, good work.

Gyrfalcon laughs and bows An excellent rap! (and normally that's a contradiction in terms, but you're much better then the mainstream) Unfortuantly, I believe that topic would happen to be Canid's idea, not my own.

To annoy as many of you as possible as quickly and efficiently as possible. ...Would there be any other reason?

Gyrfalcon laughs You've become a response junkie, I see. The half-elf smiles, then prepares to respond Wow, probably the shortest (in word count) description of a dogfight that's even engaged me- good job! I can even see the fighters manuvering in my mind's eye- good going.

Indeed, that is sad... I don't know who to feel more sorry for in that story- the man for all he lived through, or the girl for discovering that what she thought was love... was a lie. On the personal side, I hope you and your friend start talking again, soon.