Wyvern

This is a semi-poetry thread which I had originaly started in the Poetry section of the Archmage UBBs, but felt like archiving it here. The reason I place it in the Banquet Hall rather then the Library is because I'm thinking of continuing it with the poetry threads found here some time... Anyway, here you go...

Well... I don't know if this should be considered poetry, but a few nights back a fellow member DoPey and I decided to do some freestyle rapping on the spot. ;p For your amusement pleasure, here it is. Note that this stuff was made up off the top of our heads, and thus is certainly not the best... Yo Gwai Gimme a subject to kick some rhymes about G * Wyvern is busy sieging at the moment, but will think of it in the meantime and freestyle something lol, all my subjects aren't quite the rapping types lol i can add cuz im down wit this rap fad It doesn't matter Give me anything i can rap about anything moles then as in the animal I was thinking, but.. Hmmmm... tricky But I'll try it I told you it was an odd subject Inna couple of minutes ;p Note: Warning in advance ;( *** Wyvern is now known as Wyvmettic Hmmmm... now lesse here... (this is going to be awfull, mind you ;p) * Gwai grins * Gwai listens concentrately Yo, hip hop nowadays has been split in two You got your dope rappers and your wack as crews There's tension at the surface, the industry Be cloning a phony commercial ministry But then, you got your peeps on the underground Below the surface, above the sound Of wack beat and rhymes from the vulgar surface They kick dope verses full of meaning and purpose Mole rappers of the underground, keeping it real While surface area clown rappers lie and steal Mole rappers will do anything, even sing in the dirt While clown rappers cringe at the thought of getting hurt Those surface dwellars just don't wanna get they hands dirty So they fake rhymes about money, cars and flirting! They know to themselves that industry sells And that the underground mole rappers will never prevail But the moles have got a different train of thought They stay true to the art, not about to be bought And that, my hommies, is the difference between A dumbass surface rapper and a mole keeping it clean Peace! * Gwai applauds!! lol cool Thanks Hmmmm... lessee here... I know... moles live in holes, and i know cuz im told, that they dig a lot of big, knoles to put their gold, cuz they're a rich bunch of critters, they them dolla bill getterz, them lazy ass sitters, who sit in desks wearin glitter, lookin all pretty, now aint it a pitty, that no1 can see them to give them their props, n trust the man wearin socks, thats me if ya didnt no n i got it on lock, these moles that i speak of deserve a lot, you never when ur gonna meet one face to face, your life is just a race, and to win u gotta have the best pace, so tie your shoe lace cuz we're goin underground, under the city is where these moles are found, so we go wandering around the town of the real rappers, relax cuz they aint goin 2 trap us, the moles are my dawgs, as wyvmettic finishes his freestyle the dope now applauds, im in guinnes, i got the world record for best freestyle in under a minuite, u cannot win it, y, cuz if u try ur finished lol * Wyvmettic applauds I know, here we go: * Gwai applauds too! One for my man Nyyark I think it's really funny that two of you gave moles exactly the opposite meanings * Wyvmettic clears his throat Nyyark, that's my man, the one with the crows n everybody knows that he gets lots of hoes That be kickin dope verses, contradictory flows lol Yeah, rappers of a different class, you know he's one of those! When my man Nyyark steps in the club The girls go silent and the lights go up all the ladys surround him like he's a 6 inch subway sub And they eat him up like he a special discount lunch! Smothered with affection, ain't chasing the green Kicking thoughtfull verses never getting obscene cuz hes a mean lean 6 grams of fat kinda feind Now the crows surrounding Nyyark, they his fat posse Cus' you know that when the thugged out hommies get naughty They be bringing it true and taking out they wack mobbin! But for some reason man, I dunno, he strains To identify with reason, fight away the pain By taking his life, man, that ain't the right route You gotta fight it to the end, represent no doubt And if my man Nyyark ever feels down on his luck you know I'm gonna be there to back him up! I'm out! lol * Gwai applauds more * Nyyark look happyly this one goes out 2 the one and only rog the mainiac, guild mascot drayd hammer, and dog * Wyvmettic provides the back beat his favorite animals are squirrls and frogs and he goes around terra singn n dancin cuz hes a bard now u dont wanna mess with him cuz i got his back the dope will go whack on neone that wants a crack at this illest freestyler, yea i deserve a plaque DA is back, now tell these homies where they at Yeah yeah, you know DA he never comes wack! here we go again, another phat rap up in the pen The dope, wyvern, we gettin down all in a benz rollin around town, lookin for sumthin to do And you know the Dope, he be part of the mighty Pewn crew! Just another dope as M.C, filled with class He rhymes real quick and he busts real fast! n if u got a problem with the pen talkn trash *** Gyrfalcon has joined #thepen *** Gwai sets mode: +o Gyrfalcon gyrfalcon can join this freestyle bash ('ello he has no idea what im talkn about just because he's late (Hello, Gwaihir) Gyrfalcon be the man, he's never been on a wack date * Gyrfalcon is early, not late Cus' the girls love a man with intelligence and class They smother him quick, he just sits there and laughs Cus it's just the daily routine for the Gyr, know what I mean? Rappers coming soft, but Gyr be coming mean * Gyrfalcon smiles Not to mention the Dope, and the Mighty Wyvmettic They're all the type of crowd that'll spit some intellect we bustin out the illest rhymes so somebody call a medic On the mic, while the opposition just sit and stare sitting in a chair out in the crowd over there Exchanging verses, with Dope we share we dont have any worries, either that or we dont care Yeah we just don't care! Cus we know we shine We be those rappers representing up in the frontline! n we know we fine thats y the ladies want us all the time So the next time you wanna battle with ya wack ass crew Come on in, the Dope's gonna tell you what we gonna do if u really wanna know, how to rap this is how wait i cant explain cuz it just comes natural now Haha! Yeah, me and my man supreme We'll come out like magnificent seven, bust your whole team we so fresh n so clean, n we be gettin that green And leave the wack rappers saying "Where's my CREAM?!" Cash rules everything around me, ya know So don't steal my mic, you gonna die tonight bro! Stepping up to Wyvmenttic? Ha! You already lost M.Cs that front on the realness get tossed yo wyv i got ur back if some 1 is in ur face, we'll know when we win, they'll look like a discrase Hell yeah Big Dope, you know we gotta represent For the Pen, make it seem like we all heaven sent To bless you with dope rhymes and beats M.Cs feel the pressures, fakers feel the heat the way i rhyme, u aint got time, to read this joint, from line to line Which is why we fine, we always shine, and come divine, with the beats and rhymes It's like my man J-Treds said son: "Even an aethiest will say I blessed'em" aint gotta do crime, to get known for my rhyme, its all clean beats that get me in prime time You know the Dope he'll climb, never drinking that wine, cus' he's fat with lines, and will blow your mind! * Wyvmettic stops the beat for a moment Whew... Let's catch our breath, then change the subject How're you doing Gyrfalcon? LOL ---------------------------------------------- Hope it provides a laugh or two.

A very evocative poem of images dealing with the parasitic nature of the narrator, and the ultimate sense of guilt and regret which comes with his viewing of the light of day... Though I had at first envisioned the narrator as a person, perhaps it is not... it could very well signify an emotion or a concept through the uses of personification. A line that may be particularly hinting towards this is when the person/thing is depicted as "a hollow vessel drained without a mark". A souless entity of some sort... Very well written and certainly thought provoking.

Lance frowns and points the sword he had picked up towards Jadus, trying desperatly not to flinch from the pain in his arm... "Jeremy Bartholomu Forensus Freerider." he responds to Jadus, wiping some grimy mud from his garmets with his free hand. "Disciple of the great heroic knight Tiberius Ruthford, now deceased in battle, God rest his soul..." Lance pauses for a moment, then moves into an attack position with the sword. His face solidifies into a deadly countenance of seriousness. One which signified his intent to triumph in this battle... even if it meant sacrificing his life to do so. "You are obviously no casual Rekmorian..." growls Lance, clutching the hilt of the blade tightly as he speaks "... I am devoted to the Confederacy, and thus there can be no stalemate in this fatefull encounter." Lance spits to the ground. "One of us will fall." "Indeed!" growls Jadus, lifting the spear he now holds to a combat stance. "Let us duel!" Lance and Jadus charge at one another, and at that instance a shot goes off from the second undamaged Rekmorian cannon... An enormous explosion bursts from the very ground Lance and Jadus stand on, and the two are blown backwards in opposite directions. Lance crashes into a pile of dead Gogor bodies and his head collides with a piece of chain mail... He slowly slips into unconsciousness...

It's funny... when I first saw the title of this poem, the image of a love poem devoted to the written word rather then a specific person was evoked in my mind. I originaly thought that you had meant that the one you held dear was 'the word' itself... Never the less, very nicely done... I particularly like the ending which is, quite frankly, perfect. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/14/02 7:48:35 pm

Excellent stuff, Ozymandias. Takes precise, evocative images and an interesting visual narration and molds them into an enormous metaphorical masterpiece. Bravo. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/14/02 7:38:19 pm

Zephryin cautiously enters the rickety confinements of the old rusty house, slowly pacing over the squeaky floorboards and hesitantly looking around... Apart from the noise made by Zeph's footsteps and howling of the wind outside, an eery and unnatural silence envelopes the building. Zelph swallows hard as he ventures further into the house, and pauses for a moment as the wind seems to blow the door shut behind him... as if everything were on cue... Suddenly, Zephryin's attention is diverted from the shutting door as a clawed hand suddenly lays itself on his shoulder. He turns and is about to scream when a second scaly hand quickly covers his mouth and silences him. After flailing about for a moment, Zeph recognizes the figure as his boss, Mr. Wyvern, and calms down. "Ssssssshhhhhhh..." hisses the overgrown lizard "... quiet! I managed to evacuate the entire town for this meeting under the false alarm that there was going to be an enormous Ricky Martin concert. We don't have much time! Did you bring the goods...?" "Y-yes sir..." mutters Zeph, taking out the package he had been sent to bring and laying it in front of Wyv. Zeph watches in awe as the overgrown lizard zealously tears open the package and begins pulling out what appear to be several pairs of ladies lingery... Annael's lingery, to be precise... ;p Suddenly, both Wyvern and Zephryin jump in shock as a voice amplified by a loudspeaker booms "FREEZE!" from directly outside the building. Wyv cringes as he instantly recognizes the voice... it was that of one of his arch-nemesis', Inspector I. M. Clueless... "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD, WYVERN! YOU'RE SURROUNDED! WE'VE GOT YOU NOW!" Quickly, Wyvern grabs as many handfulls of Annael's lingery as he can carry and swiftly breaks a large hole in a floor board with his foot. Before jumping into the newly made escape route, Wyv turns to Zeph, grins, and exclaims: "See you around, Zephryin! Your payment for this wonderfull delivery is all the lingery you can manage to stash and keep hidden in your pockets, this 'ACCEPTED' application form, and the annoyance of meeting Inspector Clueless!" With that, Wyv plugs his nose, puts on a pair of goggles, and jumps straight into his escape hole. Zeph is about to follow him, but before he can manage to do so a SWAT team bursts through the ceiling and several sirens go off everywhere for no apparent reason. The SWAT team quickly surrounds the poor delivery applicant and aim their wrist watches at him, shining pointless bright red lights into his face and murmering meaningless number codes to each other through mini-walkie-talkies (even though they could easily talk normally to each other, at the distances they were from one another). After the excitement of the agent crowd has settled, a man wearing a dark brown overcoat and holding a worn cigarette feebly between his teeth walks up to the surrounded Zephryin and manages to crack a small grin... Taking out a badge and shoving it directly in Zeph's face, the man in the overcoat mutters "I. M. Clueless, Private Eye! You, Wyvern, are under arrest for bank fraud, payment debts, theft, robbery, withstanding tax dues, arson, sexual harrasment, destruction of private property, cruelty to animals, multiple resistings of arrest, stealing candy from infants and little old ladies, bad taste, and posting an obscene picture of my wife for public display! How do you plead, you low filthy scumbag SON OF A @#$$%?!!!" Zeph flinches back as spittle from I. M. Clueless' mouth flies in his face... "Innocent..." he responds simply "I'm not Wyvern." Upon hearing this, I. M. Clueless grimaces and takes two steps back. "That's what they all say! Come on boys, we're taking our friend Wyvern here downtown..." "Errrr... I told you..." mumbles Zephryin while being pulled towards a black van by four SWAT agents "... I'm not Wyvern..." OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Zephryin! Welcome to the Pen, I look forward to RPing with you and reading more of your writing in the future. Could you please post your e-mail here or send me a mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so that I can send you the password info? Thanks... [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/14/02 7:29:03 pm

As the figure seated in the swively office chair at Wyvern's desk turns to face Jess and Melba, the nervous applicant crosses her fingers and bites her lip... silently praying for a positive verdict. Both Jess and Melba are shocked, however, when they find that the figure seated at the chair is not actually the Elder of Initiates, but rather Valdar disguised in a fancy sombrero, a thick brown moustach, and a pair of neon orange ear muffs... "Welco-" manages the disguised Valdar before being savagely bashed over the head by a furious, broom-weilding Melba. "Where's the overgrown lizard this time?!" cries Melba furiously, raising her broom again and preparing another strike. She then points with her free hand to Jess and exclaims "This poor applicant has been waiting forever to hear if she's been accepted or not! I refuse to see her wait any longer!" Valdar rubs his throbbing head and mutters "Please madame... be calm. I come only as an extra source of help and guidance for our new applicant..." Val then turns his aching head from the enraged Melba and smiles over towards Jess. "The Pen has taken heed to your poetry and prose Jess... we'd like to help solve your problems of the heart as best we can..." "Oh...?" mutters Jess glumly, already seeing where this might be headed... Valdar quickly takes out a large telephone and sets it on the desk. He then smiles and kindly says "That's why we offer you the best loveline the Pen has to offer..." With that, he suddenly jumps up onto the desk top and takes out a pair of maracas and begins playing 'La Cucuracha' while dancing "... 1-900-333-LOVEFRAUD! Only 10 geld every 30 seconds (plus tax)!" "Uninterested." mutters Jess calmly, turning her back on the feeble attempt at advertising... Melba, however, reacts differently... "Ooooooohhhhh!!! Really?!" cries Melba passionatly, running up to the phone on the desk and dialing the number rapidly "Maybe my dating problems will finally be solved! And Brute will love and worship me forever!" Valdar slaps a hand on his forehead as Wyv's "brilliant scheme" collapses before his very eyes... How did he always end up getting involved in these mess' anyway...? ... In a small aclove underneath the floor of the office, Wyvern snickers evilly to himself as he holds a small portable phone to his ear. This scheme would work for sure... there was no doubt about it! The applicant had no idea that the supposed 'loveline' was actually just Wyvern talking through a portable phone. Grinning to himself, the overgrown lizard decides that the first thing he'll do is put the caller on hold for two hours... Finally, the portable phone rings and Wyvern gleefully answers it. His corrupt joy is quickly dissipated, however, when he hears the voice of Melba burst passionatly through the other end: "Oh operater!!!" exclaims Melba on the verge of tears "You have no idea how good it is just to tell someone all about my problems with men!!!" No sooner does Wyvern here Melba's voice combined with the phrase "problems with men" then he immediatly hangs up the phone and franticaly rushes out of his hiding place. Passing Jess on the way out, he hands her an application form stamped 'ACCEPTED' and winks. "I don't believe it!" growls Melba, angrily slamming down the reciever of the phone "The operater hung up on me!" OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Jess. I look forward to reading more of your poetry and comments on the Pen site, and welcome you as a member. Please provide your e-mail here or send me an e-mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so I can send you passwords and such. Once again, welcome!

'Bang!' Echo, pain Smoke, blood, shock A cry, swift hands take A jewel and then run rapidly Fear taking over, a scream, shouts Heart palpitating, muscles aching, teeth Clenched and grinding, visions of failure, tears The sound of police sirens, cop yells 'halt, for justice!' No stopping now, too little too late, going all out Police open fire, a number of gun shots ring Running man hit, cry of pain, drops object Diamond falls, as does theif, blood bath Two dead bodies lay on the corner Gift of life thrown in the gutter For regrets and mourning All over a simple *Diamond* Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/8/02 7:22:33 pm

"You're plan sounds excellently thought out, Myth." responds Y'Tren, stroking a hand across his beard thoughtfully "Yet at the same time, we should be carefull with the artifacts we have obtained..." Y'Tren ponders for a moment, then turns to the rest of the party. "Boar Head, Gallaros, Reyn... you three shall take the artifacts and head South East towards the mariner city of Mefferius. Once there, reserve us a ship to sail out to sea with and keep the artifacts safe. Myth and I will meet you at the Mefferius harbors in a few days time... Hopefully we'll manage to obtain the crystal by then." One by one, Gallaros, Reyn, and Boar Head silently nod their heads in understanding. "Myth, I think it would be best if we first inquired on the whereabouts of these 'dramatists' you saw. If they managed to live through the church burning, that is..."

Slaying several ghoulish creatures simultaneously with a spare spear he had found on a dead pikeman, Lance pauses for a moment to catch his breath and wipe the filthy excrement from his garmets. Needless to say, he was not in the best of moods... the discovery of the shadow forces aiding the Confederates had still not left his mind, or his soul for that matter. The thought of dark creatures plotting behind the backs of the noble warriors of the Confederacy had caused a massive blow to his spirits, and what's more the forces of Rekmor seemed to currently have the advantage on the battle field. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Lance stares towards the sky. Was there any hope left for the forces of good in this god forsaken war...? As if to answer his question, Lance is suddenly startled by the sound of a massive explosion from the enemy front. Turning towards the source of sound, his jaw drops open as he gazes at what could perhaps represent a great turning point for the Confederates in the battle... one of the enemies principle cannons had been utterly destroyed! An enormous triumphant grin spreads across Lance's face as he stares upon the scene in disbelief. He rushes through crowds of startled soldiers in order to get a closer look and make sure he's not hallucinating. Needless to say, he is overjoyed to find that what he just imagined had happened had actually occured. A principle cannon had been destroyed... by another enemy cannon!!! Viewing this chaotic and highly unpredictable event, Lance immediatly abandones his fears of betrayal and defeat and is suddenly inspired by a new hope. With one of the enemy cannons down, there was an open path to the enemy central lines... the place where the big shots behind the forces of evil lurked. It was time for Lance to prove himself... to show that he was worthy to be a Confederate soldier. Dogding several blows and snarling enemy soldiers, Lance rushes through the open and unguarded pathway heading towards the enemy's head controlers, letting nothing get in his way... Lance is suddenly stopped, however, as a Rekmorian warrior jumps in front of him and lashes out with his sword. Lance manages to parry just in time, and takes two steps back from the impact. His eyes narrow... this was no ordinary soldier. His attire looked somewhat more official, and the skill he weilded seemed to outclass that of any of the soldiers Lance had faced previously. Taking initiative and weilding his spear, the weapons of Lance and Jadus clash once again... This time, however, Jadus manages to land an elbow blow directly to Lance's stomach as an addition to his attack. Lance paces back and barely has time to deflect another of Jadus' blows... and a second, and a third... Jadus lashes out like a man possesed, and his seventh consecutive strike breaks Lance's spear straight in two. A bewildered Lance drops his broken weapon and takes a step back from the bloodthirsty Rekmorian general. "I'm disappointed warrior..." hisses Jadus maliciously "I thought I'd find a competitive match in you, but apparently was mistaken... your life ends he-" But before Jadus has finished, Lance rushes at him weaponless and kicks him straight in the balls. Jadus pauses in pain for a moment, and Lance headbutts him directly in the face. The Rekmorian general loses a grasp on his sword and is knocked to the ground. Lance quickly goes for Jadus' blade...

Annael sighs to herself, impatiently fidgeting in her applicant easy chair while waiting for the Elder of Initiates to show up... It had been over a week since she had submitted the beginning of her story as an sampler of her writing, and there had been no sign of Wyvern anywhere. She had no idea his lunchbreaks could last this long... Suddenly, the sound of several people whistling approaching the office door catches Annael's ear. She turns towards the entrance only to notice seven mini-Elders enter the chamber, one at a time. Each Elder dwarf turns to her and smiles as they pass... Quickly, all seven of the dwarves reach the desk on which Annael's application has been carefully placed. The dwarves begin looking over the intro to the story, discussing it amongst themselves as they do so... "Hmmmm..." mutters Greedy (the mini-Wyvern) "... the panther of this story could be worth quite a bit of geld if it were sold on the blackmarket..." "I think the cat should have minded it's own business and left the nun alone!" grumbles Grouchy (mini-Jechum), spitting on the ground and flushing red in the face. "The cat is obviously a martian in disguise!" exclaims Wacky (mini-Zool) while sticking out his toungue and bouncing around the room "It's only a matter of time before the nun is assimilated by the alien panther society!!!" Sleazy (mini-Lumpenproletariat) belches at this statement, and then mumbles "Why would the panther possibly wanna chase rabbits in the forest when it could just as easily find some delicious weasels...?" "Well..." chimes Shiny (mini-Rydia) cheerfully "The panther's eyes definatly have shiny potential, as do the nun's..." "The nun is definatly my type..." mutters Sexy (mini-Orlan) while combing back his hair and looking at himself in the mirror. "If I were the human male of the story, I would have faced the panther for her..." Courtesy (mini-Peredhil) clears his throat and says "It was certainly polite of the panther to aid the maiden nun in such a respectfull fashion." After about half an hour of discussion, the seven Elder dwarves reach a concensus. They cheerfully hand Annael back her application, which now has 'ACCEPTED' stamped on it and 'LOOK OUT FOR THE ALIEN CULTS' scrawled over it in large letters. OOC: An ACCEPTED application Annael. Very original and interesting story so far, I can't wait for the continuation. Welcome to the Pen. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/3/02 6:16:09 pm

Elsewhere, in a seedy looking tavern located somewhere in the slums of the city of Erindale... Rain gently comes pattering down from the sky onto the grimy first floor window pane of the 'Singing Siren' pub and rest area... Two glassy eyes stare through the dirt obscuring the view of the outdoors, watching the droplets of rain softly hit the pane, then slide down the glass frame, slowly disintigrating into a watery nothingness. To be like a droplet of water... to live in the moment. Was this the life she had chosen to pursue...? Sighing to herself, Myth lazily stretches and turns her attention from the rain outdoors to her companions sitting at the table around her. Boar Head was downing his 40th drink of the evening, Gallaros was carving a piece of wood into a sculpture of some sort, Reyn was snoozing, and Y'Tren hadn't gotten back to the pub yet. He had taken the artifacts that Myth had found and told the party to wait here while he went to the library to examine them... Noting nothing worth her interest or attention around the interior of the bar, Myth directs her gaze back to the dark sky and rain outdoors... To be like a drop of water... to live in the moment... The sound of the shutting of a door and wet boots on the wooden floor suddenly catch the attention of the party, and they turn to the pub entrance to see that Y'Tren has returned. Y'Tren gives a small wave and then quickly seats himself in the empty chair located between Gallaros and Boar Head. He sets the container holding the artifacts carefully on the table, then takes a deep breath and clears his throat... "Myth, the plans are exactly what we were looking for, excellent work. Unfortunatly, it appears there is still a small piece of the puzzle which is missing..." Much to the amazement of the rest of the party, Y'Tren takes the crystal from the box and drops it to the ground. The artifact shatters to a million pieces. "Glass..." growls Y'Tren, scowling and pointing to the broken shards on the ground "Nothing more then an imitation jewel... while we can locate the whereabouts of the island, we need a special crystal created to act as a key. The island is unseen to the human eye, and only when sunlight reflects off the crystal key may it be unvaled." Y'Tren directs a cold stare towards Myth. "One can only wonder what happened to the true crystal..." Myth stares back confidently, simply muttering "I didn't hide it." Y'Tren instantly see's the truth in Myth's face and composure, and nods understandingly. "What shall our next course of action be? We can't find the location without the crystal..."

Wyvern sighs dismally, searching his last valid geld hiding place (within the stuffing of his personal Jechum shaped punching bag) and finding not a single geld... Despite Wyv's initial reactions of dismay and anger, he was now much calmer and thinking silently to himself. This certainly wasn't the first time he'd lost all his geld... The theif would pay though... oh yes... there was no denying that... And Wyvern would get back his treasury, that was for sure... Wyvern's thoughts are suddenly interrupted as there is an aggravated tap on his shoulder. The overgrown lizard turns only to find himself faced with several furious looking Pen members... "Alright Wyvern!" exclaims Falcon, cracking his knuckles "Where are my music instruments?!!" "And my NyQuil?!!!!!!" shouts Excederin franticly. "And my TEDDY?!!!" sobs Morgane. "And Minta?!!" yells Tzimfemme, pausing for a moment and murmuring "Although it is much calmer without her around..." before being nudged by Rosemary to wisely keep quiet. "What are you guys talking about?" asks Wyvern perfectly calmly and innocently "I haven't stole anything..." "Suuuuuuuuuurrrrrrreeeee..." growls Gyrfalcon "You expect us to believe that you haven't stole our stuff like you always do?" "Even when you're acting so calmly?!" adds a furious Seth Exodus "And why don't YOU have anything stolen, Mr. Wyvern?" "That's not true!" responds Wyvern quickly "I-" Lady Celes Crusader suddenly gasps, staring at something Wyvern is clutching in his left hand. "Then how do you explain that?!!!!!" she cries, pointing to the French sandwich that Wyvern currently holds. Wyv's face goes blank. "What's wrong with this...?" mutters Wyv, looking at the sandwich and taking a bite out of it "It's delicious..." "It's a sandwich from my cafe!!!" screams Celes "You took it from there, along with my other stuff!!!" "Wait, I didn't..." "Get him!!!" roar Simon and Lewis, charging at the overgrown lizard followed by all the other aggravated Pen members. Wyvern is quickly submerged in an ocean of furious faces and groping hands. Wyv is violently turned upside down by the angry mob and stripped of his possessions. When they find he has nothing they're looking for, they suddenly pause and let him go. "I told you..." grumbles a battered and beaten Wyvern from the floor "I'm not the theif for once... I've had my savings stolen too!"

An interesting poem, Excederin. Abandones traditional rhyming schemes for a more free-verse form of poetry, although the BAB schema is used for verses 3, 5, and 6. Throughout this poem, several images of helplessness and defeat are portrayed... These ultimatly lead to what I believe the principle theme of the poem to be: the narrator's acceptance of his weaknesses and the feelings of defeat and hopelessness that come about from this realization. One place in the poem where weakness is shown is when the narrator states "I had wings that couldn't fly... I had tears I couldn't cry." as well as when he notes "There were secrets in my mind... There were things I should have done..." Perhaps the lines that best point to the theme, however, are the two last lines in which the narrator states "The walls I built are crumbling away/ the water is moving, I'm slipping away" Here, in order to face his fears and weaknesses, the narrator has thrown himself into the waters of the ocean... yet even in this free-body mass he has little, if any, freedom. Instead, he succumbs to the ocean, and it is the water and the waves that push him away. Thus the poem ends with a certain motif of defeat... Well done Excederin. I look forward to reading more of your poetry... [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

As Seth Exodus and his various friends chat joyously amongst themselves, Elder Wyvern rubs his hands together in anticipation. It was only a short matter of time now before the judges came to analyze his abode... A few weeks earlier, Wyvern had entered into a competition for the 'sloppiest, most unarranged home imaginable'. The winner of the contest would recieve a large geld prize while the runners up only got samples of 'winter fresh house cleaning detergent'. The overgrown lizard thought he had a very good chance of winning... he had sent Melba on a vacation, so noone had been cleaning the papers from his office in the last week. The room was currently a jumbled mess of bills, I.O.Us, and unfinished applications... Even a homeless goblin would have been revolted by it's current state... Wyvern jumps out of his chair excitedly as there is a knock on his office door. Seth Exodus and his Pen buddies eye the overgrown lizard curiously as he rushes to the door and opens it as rudely as possible... Standing at the entrance are two judges, who's eyes quickly widen when they notice the chaotic ocean of papers and semi-finished meals that lay cluttered around Wyv's office. Wyv grins as the judges stride into his room and begin taking note of all the unfashionable things present... "Hmmmm... floods of paper, practicaly unwalkable, stinks of booze... looks like we may have a winner!" Wyvern grins. "Hey... wait a minute..." mutters the second judge, eyeing a piece of paper in a suitecase on Wyvern's desk "Take a look at this... a perfectly fashionable piece of artwork..." Wyvern's grin fades to a frown. The second judge comes to take a look at the piece of art (Seth Exodus' application) and nods in agreement. "Yes, an excellent picture. We're sorry Mr. Wyvern, but you're room comes just short of complete messiness due to this beautifull picture. Better luck next time..." With that the judges take the picture, still examining it, and hand Wyvern two free samples of 'winter fresh house cleaning detergent'. They then exit the room, heading towards the abode of the contest winner: Lumpenproletariat. "Hey!" exclaims an outraged Seth Exodus "They just went and took my artwork application!" "That's alright..." mumbles a disappointed Wyvern "Here, I'll make it up to you..." With that, the overgrown lizard hands Seth an application sheet that has been stamped 'ACCEPTED', spraying it with 'winter fresh detergent' as he does so. OOC: You're ACCEPTED Seth Exodus, welcome to the Pen. I admire the originality of your artwork application, and like the Foe picture. I'm also glad you RPed your application rather then just posting a link to the picture... it shows your eagerness to join. Welcome! I hope to see more artwork/writing from you in the future... Two things: -Please create a local EZboard account for the site. There is a link to this in our 'List of Usefull Links'. -Please post an e-mail address I can use to contact you here or alternatly e-mail me at elitwack90@hotmail.com, so that I can send you passwords and stuff. [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Back at the church... As Kaylera and the other adventurers sink deep in thought deciding on their next course of action, a lone monk wearing robes burnt and torn from the fire eyes them reluctantly... He had been sitting by the side of the church for some time now, and had noticed that the half elf that had saved his life by breaking open the cathedral exits was chatting amongst the group of heros. Still, there was no doubt about it... these were the vagabonds his friend Jakob had warned him of previously. But that didn't matter... he had come to his decision. Swallowing hard and lifting himself from his position by the ruined church, the monk takes a deep breath and heads towards the adventurer party... The chatting and deep reflection of the heros are momentarily interrupted as a monk hobbles up to their circle and clears his throat a bit to get their attention. Turning to the stranger, the heros eye him curiously... "Yes?" mutters Timothy curiously, looking the stranger from head to toe as if he were some ghostly spectre... "I..." starts the monk nervously "I wanted to give you a gift for... for saving..." The monk extends a package wrapped in cloth to the adventurer nearest to him, Kaylera. "Please... take it..." Kaylera smiles at the kind gesture and takes a quick glance at the package, saying "Kind sir, there is no need for gifts or donations. Your safety and health is more then enough to-" Then she catches a glimpse of the contents of the package, and suddenly finds herself at a lack of speech. Within the cloths of the package rests a dull crystal... the shape of which immediatly catches Kaylera's attention. The crystal had been jaggedly carved into a symbol of a hawk spreading it's wings flying near a crescent moon... and the scholarly Avian recognized the symbol immediatly. The herald of the ancient Vishari clan! A lead to the Pool!!! Quickly snatching the crystal from it's packaging in order to examine it more closely, Kaylera brushes her hand over it's surface as if to make sure that the shape she is seeing is not merely an hallucination caused by stress. Timothy notices Kaylera's excited state, and curiously asks "Hey Kaylera, what's up...?" This gets the attention of both Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer, who had previously been deep in thought and now turn towards Kaylera and the stranger. Rather then answering Timothy, a shocked Kaylera turns to the stranger that had handed her the package and faintly asks "Where did you get this...?" The rest of the adventurers, while uncertain of what's going on, also look towards the monk and await his explanation. "Listen..." starts the stranger "... I was a friend of Jakob... a good friend. You have to understand that Jakob's intentions have only been good..." He stops for a moment and the adventurers nod for him to continue. "Whether he agreed to help you or not, Jakob didn't want you to search for the Pool. You seemed insistent and determined, so finally he came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to get rid of you that easily. He decided to trick you by replacing the crystal in the collection of artifacts he was going to hand to you with a fake... This way, you would never find the Pool and would quit questioning him about it at the same time. Call it cruel, but he was killing two birds with one stone. He handed the true crystal to me, telling me to 'hold onto it with your life. Let noone take it from you.' And I was determined to do so... yet..." There is a silence. "I saw you fight valiently in the church... I saw you risk the infernos in order to save innocents. I know you are good, my very soul senses it... And thus, I have decided to act on my own will, despite the wish of my dearly departed friend. I think you deserve the crystal, and that you shall use it wisely." Timothy quickly answers "We will. Do you know of it's uses?" "No..." responds the monk regretfully "... I am just as in the dark about the use of this object as you are. Jakob refused to share information about the secret location with anyone... even his very closest friends." He pauses for a moment, then says "Now I must go... If it's alright with you, I'd prefer if this exchange were completely forgotten. While I know that I've done the right thing, I have never the less broken my friends promise and guilt plagues my soul..." With that, the stranger turns and leaves, walking back to the position where he had been previously seated. He doesn't even say "Goodbye"...

Admist the confusion of Gorog blades and swarms of rats, Lance rapidly wipes the sweat from his brow and turns to meet a truly villanous sight... A mingle of man and shadow, seated atop a steed that looked as if it had come straight out of the depths of the inferno. Lance pauses and rubs his eyes in disbelief... How had this infernal creature suddenly breached the front lines of the infantry, and why was it slaying Gogors?! Clenching his teeth and holding a firm grasp to his spear, Lance charges at the shadow rider... Arioch, perched atop his mighty steed, slays three more Gogors with a single blow of his sword, laughing grimly at the pathetic attempts of the obviously inferior creatures... He turns his head, however, when he hears a scream and a battle cry coming in his direction... Not giving any second thought to the risk of the action, Lance lets go of his spear and pounces at Arioch, catching the dark rider momentarily off guard and tackling him, knocking him from his steed... The two fall to the ground of the battlefield together and land in a puddle of mud and dead bodies. After a great deal of body blows, wrestling and struggling on the ground, Arioch finally manages to pin Lance down and points his blade at the pikeman. Suddenly noticing he is human and thus a Confederate, Arioch roars: "Fool!!! I am on your side of the battle! I and the other shadow riders aid you against the forces of Rekmor! As you are an ally, I shall let you live this once... but attack me again and you shall feel my wrath!" With that, Arioch angrily remounts on his terrifying steed and rushes back into battle against the creatures of Rekmor. Lance is left sitting in a pool of blood and mud, weaponless and reflecting upon this encounter. The forces of darkness were aiding them...? What was going on here? While Lance was physicaly unhurt by this encounter, the sight had caused a massive blow to his spirits... Raising himself from the puddle, Lance notices captain Gyrfalcon yelling to fellow troops and making rapid hand gestures. Wiping the muck off of his chain mail, Lance rushes to the captain and cries out: "Captain Gyrfalcon sir!!!" The stressed Gyrfalcon turns his head towards the voice and raises an eyebrow when he is met by a lone pikeman. "I don't understand sir! Why do we have shadows aiding us in our battle for the light?! Creatures whose intentions are probably just as bad as the vile creatures we destroy, if not worse?! Why were the militia not informed?! Excuse my impertinence sir... but what the hell's the meaning of this?!!!"

The Prophet of Booze slowly sniffs his way towards the sweet aroma of alcohol, letting his olfactory glands act as his guide. He wavers down the central hall of the Pen with his head to the air, swaying back and forth in order to not lose track of the scent. His sense of smell finally guides him to a closed office door which is marked "Recruiter's Office" and has the words "All bribes are welcome!" scrawled in red ink directly underneath the title. Brute peers at the door closer and notices that written in smaller letters on its front are the words 'Run by Wyvern- the Elder of Initiates'. Upon reading this, a grin spreads its way across Brute's pale face. This was it... the Decanter was here alright! The Apostle of Alcohol excitedly opens the office door and enters, not noticing a sign which had been purposely placed to the side of the door that reads: "Out on a lunch break/geld making scheme... come back later"... No sooner has Brute entered the office then the entrance door is automaticly slammed shut and locked behind him. The lights of the room suddenly dim, and a finger with a nail painted in a disgusting polka dot nail polish hits the 'play' button on an old 60's 12-inch record player. The sound of static fills the room for a brief moment... and then the Marvin Gaye song "Let's Get it On" begins bursting through the speakers. Suspicious and already a bit nervous, Brute slowly looks around his dimly lit surroundings and makes eye contact with a person sitting on top of Wyvern's desk... a rather plump woman looking somewhere in her mid-forties wearing a horrible outfit that bears some vague ressemblance to a fancy dress. (minus all the class). "I'm wearing 'Eau-de-Booze' cologne..." cooes Melba from her position on top of the desk "I thought you'd like it..." Brute backs up against the closed entrance door and screams in terror as Melba hops off the desk and begins advancing towards him... "I've heard so much about you, you big Brute of a man you..." Brute franticaly looks for some method of escape, only to realize that there are none... "You're like the meatball and I'm the 'Matzah Ball Soup'..." purrs Melba, advancing closer now and drooling at the thought of a bowl of soup. Brute backs up against the wall as much as he can. "I'm like a chocolate midnight cookie, and you're the chocolate coating and the extra cream filling!" Melba is about to embrace Brute when suddenly the entrance door to the office is slammed open and Wyvern strides in, weilding a 'Jane Fonda Workout' video. Holding the video in front of him, he cries: "Back, Melba! Back I say!" Seeing the video, Melba hisses and takes several steps back, slinking back to her assistant corner and reverting back to her normal, less arroused state. The music turns off and the lights of the office regain their usual brightness... Wyvern smiles and turns to Brute, who now looks even paler then usual... "Hi Brutesy, welcome to the Pen! Terribly sorry about my almost secretary here, the least I can do is accept your application..." Brute nods, relieved and happy to be a member. As Wyv pours him a drink and pats him on the back, Brute forgets to consider taking back the Decanter... OOC: Welcome to the Pen Brute!!! An ACCEPTED application which demonstrates your excellent writing ability. While I'm not giving up possesion of the Decanter, I'll frequently share it with you here on a regular basis. I look forward to reading more of your writing and participating with you in RPing. Once again, welcome! [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 1/21/02 6:26:28 pm

Wyvern will ask the legendary drunken one to check his e-mail before Wyv writes his response... [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Wyvern suddenly notices the mispelling of Lumpen's title and slaps his forehead sheepishly. Not wanting the Eldership to look too embarassed, Wyv quickly comes up with an explanation... Walking up to Lumpenproletariat and patting him on the bank, the overgrown lizard quickly downs his drink. He then procedes to snatch Jechum's glass and glutanously guzzles its contents as well... "Now Lumpen... The supposed 'mispelling' of your title can actually be attributed to the fact that we wanted you to stand out as a distinctively recognisable Elder." "Yeah..." mumbles Lumpen sipping his drink "...right." "Have you noticed that when spelled backwards, Eldar turns into Radle?" Lumpenproletariat sighs. "Well wadda ya know... it does." "Radle was..." Wyvern thinks for a moment "... a famous Ministrel of Terra! In fact..." Wyvern thinks again "He was Tyrion's cousin! Yeah, that's it!" Lumpenproletariat's face suddenly goes pale and he drops his glass, which shatters on the floor. Angrily turning to Wyvern, he growls "Are you trying to tell me that I was given a title after Tyrion's COUSIN?!" Nervously backing away and searching for the nearest exit, Wyvern murmers "No, no... that's not what I meant... I..." "I'LL KILL YOU!!!" Wyvern quickly runs for an exit as Lumpenproletariat chases after him, the Ministrel's lute raised high in the air in a striking position... OOC: As the others have said Lumpy, you certainly shall be missed, especially by this overgrown lizard *sniffles* Please try to find the time to drop by the site occasionaly, we always enjoy your presence. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Former Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Justin Silverblade posted, Wyvern00 posted, As the wretched wave of nauseating filth known as the Gorogs draws closer to the frontline Confederate infantry of pikemen, Lance grimaces and tightly clutches his spear. Something stank to him about this entire situation... why would the forces of Rekmor blatantly waste their minor infantry on the battlefield? The Gogors were being slaughtered out there, but Lance knew very well that those in charge of the Army of Rekmor were no fools... What were their true intentions behind this mindless slaughter...? Lance's train of thought is interrupted, however, as an enormous cry rings out from the ranks of the pikemen and they begin to charge into battle. Quickly glancing back to his friend Bobor (who was in charge of one of the major catapults) Lance briefly waves, then clutches his spear tightly and prepares for the onslaught. After taking a deep breath of what may be the only semi-fresh air he'll be breathing in a while, he lowers his helmet visor and procedes to rush into combat along with the other pikemen... The violent sounds of weapons clashing and horrendous battle cries suddenly break out in the battlefield as the infantry division meets head on with the remaining Gorogs. The sound of spears connecting to half-rotted flesh rings through Lance's ears as he parries the blade of a hideous creature that looks vaguely human... "Die!" cries Lance, shoving his spear through the chest of the Gogor and managing to impale a second directly behind it in the process. Quickly turning, he fends of a third by means of the wooden backbone of his spear and decapitates a fourth with one swift vertical motion. Noticing a Gogor raising a sword directly behind a Confederate pikeman, Lance rushes and tackles the would-be assassin, shoving his spear directly through the vile creature's throat and saving the Confederate's life in the process... Wiping a mixture of sweat and Gogor blood and pus from his face, Lance turns to meet his next opponent...

A short yet strikingly powerfull piece written in the classic 'ABAB' rhyming format. Most apparent in this poem is the use of seemingly contradictory images in the same lines: "appeal in raving madness", "pleasures in self destruction", and "sweet flatteries of pain" being the most notable three. The last two lines seem to be those that ultimatly lead to the theme of the poem, as they speak of the inevitable shame of seduction. As I see it, the theme of the poem is centered around the ultimate feelings of madness and pain brought about by seduction. The mentioning of a siren at the beginning of the poem (a creature that seduces others with it's voice, for those that don't know their mythology) further aludes to this theme. In addition, the mingled images of pleasure and pain, which can represent seduction and it's outcome, also point towards the poem's theme. For this reason, I vote "Seduction" for the poem's title. Very good poem, I eagerly await more of your works. [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Very interesting. Rather then simple attraction, true love is expressed through the poem as the narrator longs for the affection of his friend, but wishes principly for her well-being. Several images also play a role in conveying the theme of the poem, particularly a cluster concerned with natural beauty. "bloom", "sparkle", "blossom", etc. There is antithesis between this cluster and another cluster that deals with images of paleness and fear: "clipped wings", "white cheeks", "goose-down", "shiver", etc. This antithesis between image clusters may be hinting at the antithesis of the narrators feelings, as he longs for his friends affection but wants her well-being and happiness above all. Well done. [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Excellent poem Gyr, I'm glad you posted it. Dismisses the use of systematic rhyme structure in favor of a narrative of 7 verses along with a brilliant thought provoking conclusion. Might I also say that the theme of the poem a white rose in a field of red, wonderfully positive and refreshing. Keep up the good work. [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.