Wyvern

Rushing into the Cabaret Room in a typically late manner and bowing towards Vincent Silver, Wyvern wishes the honorable Quill-Bearer a slightly belated "Happy Birthday!" Adding his words to the piles of other warm wishes found in the thread, the overgrown lizard then quickly digs through his pouch and pulls out a giftwrapped package. Swiftly handing the package to Vincent, Wyvern grins as the Quill Bearer opens the present only to be presented with a new Dreamcast, capable of processing 128-bit dreams... ;p OOC: Happy Birthday, Vincent Silver! Hope you had a great one...

Panting and catching his breath for a moment while glancing at the crumbled remains of the granite golems he had defeated, Gyrfalcon suddenly remembers that he has no time to lose and makes haste. Silently praying that the ceiling rock trap he had set off wouldn't cause any obstructions to his allies should they need to escape from the hords of zombies outdoors, the half-elf hero takes a deep breath and pushs open the ancient doors previously blocked by the stone Temple guardians... Stepping through the arch of the doorway and into the central prayer chamber of the Temple of Isaiis, Gyrfalcon stops for a moment to intake the haunting beauty of his surroundings. Before him lies a vast chamber of numerous well-carved seats, with an ancient pulpit and alter resting at the far end of it. Many of the seats have become rusted and have degraded with age, yet still hold a strange, mystical beauty about them. This is particularly the case of the alter at the far end of the room, which ressembles what once might have been an angel holding a jewel-studded chalice... Noticing doors adjacent to each side of the giant alter along with two open passageways on the left side of the camber and a door on the right, Gyrfalcon curses to himself and randomly chooses a passage, dashing down one of those on his left. Striding down the hallway and passing another potential passage on his right, Gyrfalcon stops and sighs as he comes to a T-junction. Frustrated at not knowing the directions to the Pool in this maze, the heroic adventurer is about to search for guiding symbols of some sort when suddenly, a sound catches his ears. The sound is faint, almost non-existant... "... he... l..." Gyrfalcon halts in his search for symbols and remains motionless, focussing on hearing the faint sound. Tilting his head a bit, he hears it slightly more clearly: "hel...p..." ... Help...? A cry of distress? Gyrfalcon turns towards the left-hand pathway of the T-junction from where the sound seems to be coming. He had no other leads to the Pool in the enormous Temple, and someone seemed to be in need of aid... "...he...lp..." Marching towards the source of the sound and slowly reaching for the hilt of his enchanted blade should he need it, Gyrfalcon begins to recognize the voice as he grows closer to it. It was a voice that had often annoyed him, a voice that he had come to hate and always associated with trouble... Reyn's voice. ----- Elsewhere, in a tiny and extremely dark tunnel, Myth and Kaleyra continue to follow the passage of the secret entrance they had found, forced to crawl on all fours in order to fit into it and having no idea where they're headed. They had been crawling for quite some time, and Kaleyra was rapidly growing tired from the trek... Myth didn't feel particularly comfortable in the tiny space either... "Are you sure this is going to lead us anywhere...?" growls the assassin to her associate. "We've been crawling for a while now and haven't come across anything... hell, it's a miracle we can even still breath in this tiny passage..." "It's not a miracle." responds Kaleyra, panting for breath as she follows behind her companion. "I'm certain that the clans designed this passage in a manner that allows air to circulate... after all, it's supposed to be an escape route." The two suddenly stop their chatting as they notice a faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Finally, an entrance to the Temple's interior. ----- "help... m... e..." Gyrfalcon stops briefly at the open arched entrance of the chamber at the end of the passage, where the sound is coming from. Taking a deep breath and making sure he has a firm grip on the hilt of his katana, the half-elven hero carefully steps into the room... Brushing aside a few cobwebs, Gyrfalcon notices that the chamber is lined with majestic pillars that reach to the ceiling and have numerous runes engraved on them... A giant cross hangs on the wall on the far end of the room, an object that had been used countless times for prayer... an object... "hel..." Gyrfalcon's eyes suddenly widen in shock in horror as they adjust to the dimness of the room and notice the figure attached to the cross. As Gyrfalcon suspected, it was Reyn. He had been crucified. The vibrant colors that once marked the mischevous thief's face and chest were now replaced with a deathly paleness, the blood flowing freely from his nailed hands and feet. On Reyn's bare chest there was also carved a strange symbol of some sort, from which blood also flowed in large amounts... Gyrfalcon suddenly breaks from the horrific sight as Reyn's face glances past him and twitches into a final grimace. Taking the former-thief's facial expression as a warning sign, the half elf warrior quickly unseaths his blade and turns just in time to parry a blow from Kraisis the paladin. Glaring at Gyrfalcon angrily, the paladin locks swords with him and growls: "By my lost love and my left eye... you shall suffer a similar fate!"

This is a very good poem, Boaz, I really liked it. In terms of structure and style, the AABA, CCBC rhyme structure worked very effectively in my opinion, as did the repitition of the first stanza for the conclusion of the poem. The one piece of meter that struck me as a bit off was the second line of the first/final stanza, which fits well into the stanza as it shares the same number of syllabels as the final line of the stanza, but which seems to not fit well with the other stanzas (as they have far fewer syllabels). This is strictly a personal opinion, of course, but I might cut down the second and fourth lines of the first and final stanzas to 8 syllabels. You might do this by changing "ended" in the fourth line to "end" and removing "fear," "hate," or "strife" from the second line. In fact, an interesting idea might be to use the word you removed in the second line of the first stanza and placing it in the last stanza. For example, the second line of the first stanza could be "22 years of fear and strife" while the second line of the last stanza could be "22 years of hate and strife." Anyway, once again, it's just a matter of personal taste. ;p Another thing I really liked about the poem is how it slowly portrays the abusive life of the victim, starting at the day he was born and leading to his violent demise at the age of 22. Well done!

Recently, I was visiting one of my friends in Stanford, California and we went to see a concert of two of my favorite hip hop artists out in nearby Campbell (a little area that very rarely gets mentioned on maps, but is next to San Jose). Anyway, it turned out to be an interesting performance that evening, so I thought I'd share a few details... The concert took place at a tiny little nook called the Gaslighter Theatre, which is rarely known for hip hop... or music in general, for that matter. The theatre can probably hold around 200 people at max, and the stage and seating arrangements ressemble those used by stand-up comedians rather than music performers. The charge was 8 dollars, and the line-up consisted of some opening act whose name I forgot, One Man Army (not the punk band, but rather a respected M.C), and Illogic & Blueprint (who rank 3rd and 7th on my list of top ten M.Cs respectively). The opening act, whose name I've forgotten for a reason, was pretty dull. The set was short and he had people playing keyboards and drums for him, but apart from a rapidfire verse he did at the end there was nothing really interesting about his performance. He tossed out lots of free stuff into the audience and I caught a T-shirt, but it turns out the only reason he was doing it was because he was low on cash and was promoting the car brand "Scion"... I plan to paint a large "SUCKS" underneath the Scion logo on that free shirt as soon as I find the time... but I digress... ;p One Man Army was a much better act. The "crowd," which must have been about 50 people at most, was small enough so that he could get real personal with the audience and talk to people individually. He's a good rapper and a nice guy, though not interesting enough to really amaze me... After he was finished, Illogic and Blueprint finally took the stage... and here's where things got pretty interesting. Before starting their set, they noted that their microphones and DJing equipment were not working well thanks to the guy in charge of sound check (who was obviously a rookie). They bickered with the equipment for around 10 minutes and then started their set, only to have their microphones literally fall apart in the middle of a song. So finally, they decided that they needed to take a different approach. And that's exactly what they did... they abandoned their microphones and DJing equipment entirely and instead decided to do their songs in the form of spoken word, as if it were a poetry reading. Now... normally, when a music artist doesn't have any music to back him up, he falls flat on his face. That certainly wasn't the case for Illogic or Blueprint. They delivered their words with real emotion, and their writing is seriously nothing short of poetry. Topics ranged from punchlines that had the entire audience cracking up to a take on the war on terrorism from the perspective of a 10 year old Iraqi child that had the audience extremely silent and contemplative. People who appreciated my "Poetic Justice" compilation would have undoubtedly enjoyed their spoken word performances. Overall, it was worth my 8 bucks. I chatted a bit with Illogic after the show, and picked up one of his rare, tour-only "Write to Death" CDs (112 out of 200, w00t). I left with the impression that these rappers are truly poets, though I pretty much knew that before I even saw them in concert. ;p So... has anyone else been to any "interesting" concerts? P..S: If anyone wants to learn more about Illogic or Blueprint, you can visit www.weightless.net for some info.

"Macho Macho Maaan... (Macho Man!) I Gotta Be... a Macho Man!" Gwaihir and Wyvern glance around the room in confusion as the famous words of the Village People echo throughout the greenhouse at an unbearable volume. The noise is quickly accompanied by glaring lights of various colors, which come from the disco ball and reflect off of the greenhouse's intricate glass walls and ceiling. "Look out!!!" exclaims Racouol as he dashes and tackles both Wyvern and Gwaihir, saving them from a collision with a man in a cowboy outfit doing the funky chicken at a dangerous speed. Spinning around the room in confusion, the three Pen members grow dizzy as the disco ball begins to spin faster and faster. The only ones who enjoy the chaos are the wiggly cabbages, who begin wiggling rhythmically to the beat... "Damn it Wyvern, thanks to you I'm probably going to be hallucinating in rainbow colors for the next two weeks!" exclaims Gwaihir, shaking a fist at the overgrown lizard. Noticing Gwaihir's rage, the reptilian Elder quickly decides to escape by doing the shimmy with the line of Village People... Alternating the dance routine at the greenhouse's exit, the lizard proceeds to moonwalk out of the dance area... Observing that Wyvern has escaped, Racouol thinks fast and quickly grabs a long rope out of his pocket and ties it to one of his frying pans. Spinning the frying pan in the air by means of the rope, the Bearer of Deep Pockets then tosses it at the disco ball and jumps in the air in the hopes of swinging from the disco ball and escaping. Unfortunatly, the Lord of Nightmares doesn't take into account that the frying pan has no grappling hook on it, and his plan fails. Fortunatly, he still manages to escape by riding on top of a wave of moshing wiggly cabbages... Dashing away from the greenroom as fast as their legs can carry them, both Wyvern and Racouol reach the Cabaret Room of the Pen before stopping for a moment of rest. Wiping some sweat from his scaly brow and panting, the overgrown lizard takes out his list of animals and crosses off "Wiggly Cabbage." "Next up is a crow and a cat..." pants Wyvern while looking over his list. "Or perhaps a butterfly from Annael, or maybe one of those guinea pigs... waddaya think?"

Greetings Madoka, great to hear from you! We've kept the Pen's samurai sheep training dojos dusted and fully in tact in your absence, just as you left them... Glad to hear you're doing well, I look forward to reading more of your writing when you find the time to post some. Having said this, Wyvern whistles innocently, casts a worried glance towards Racouol, and acts as if that whole samurai sheep incident in "The Arch of Ezoob" never happened...

T)emon13laT)e grumbles and shifts positions in his applicant easychair, growing steadily more and more impatient in his wait for the infamous Elder of Initiates. He had been prepared for a long wait after hearing a slew of rumors concering the overgrown lizard's absences, but having to sit for an entire week while anticipating his application response was simply ridiculous. Lifting himself from his seat and turning towards the reptilian Elder's desk while contemplating whether or not he should put his demonic blade to use, the applicant suddenly jumps and falls back into his seat as Wyvern rapidly barges into the Office. Dashing into the room and tipping a tattered hat he had gotten from a sacrificial alter which he had been tied to in his most recent scheme, Wyvern formally salutes T)emon13laT)e and apologizes for his long absence before collapsing into his desk chair and drifting into a deep sleep... Discouraged by the reptilian Elder's falling asleep and not wanting to risk waiting another week for the overgrown lizard to wake up, T)emon13laT)e growls and draws his demonic weapon. The sound of the sword unseathing is enough to wake Wyvern from his slumber in no time flat... Seating himself at his desk and quickly snatching T)emon13laT)e's application from an enormous pile of papers, the overgrown lizard reads the poem over a few times before grinning and hissing: "A good poem, T)emon13laT)e, and one which I can certainly relate to! It's always nice to meet another person that enjoys contemplating corruption... speaking of which..." At this, Wyvern's grin turns into an evil sneer and he rubs his scaly palms together before continuing: "Before accepting your application, I'd like to discuss a thing or two that might 'aid' your acceptance, so to speak. You see, after my latest scheme, there have been a number of demonic cults hunting me down for their latest sacrifice and I could use a change of alias'..." Wyvern rubs his chin while reading over T)emon13laT)e's name again as he continues: "Here's the deal... If you were to lift the numbers from your name and take the title 'DemonBlade' in order for me to change my name to '\/\/Y\/3R|\|', then I'm certain some sort of acceptance could be arranged..." "I don't quite understand..." responds T)emon13laT)e in a worried manner. "What do names, demonic cults, and numbers have to do with acceptance to the Pen?" Wyvern ponders this question for a moment while thinking up a far-fetched response involving demonic Pen members when he suddenly notices a demonic-looking Melba weilding an even-more-demonic-looking mallet and glaring at him in a demonic manner. Grumbling to himself in an arcane demonic dialect, Wyvern finally stamps T)emon13laT)e's application ACCEPTED. ;-p OOC: On a more serious note, a good poem and an ACCEPTED application, T)emon13laT)e (I hope you don't mind if I call you 'DemonBlade' from now on ;-) ). Welcome to the Mighty Pen, I look forward to reading more of your works and writing with you!

As Myth and Kaleyra enter the jaggedly carved granite tunnel leading into the darkness of the deepest regions of the Temple of Isaiis, Elena's party arrives at the central entrance of the ancient monument. Panting for breath and standing where Jagon and Kraisis had previously stood when they had arrived at the clearing, Gyrfalcon and Timothy gaze upon the magnificent architecture surrounding the venerable site of prayer. The clearing surrounding the Temple of Isaiis is cluttered with the remnants of enormous statues, which had crumbled and collapsed after an eternity of aging. Those monuments that had once stood as symbols of the dominance of mankind now laid in ruins, covered in an aged blanket of moss and weeds. Certain parts of the statues, such as the noses and ears, now sheltered a variety of animals and insects, which had made their nests there. Despite the huge size of the statues, it takes the adventurers a moment to notice them due to their being well camoflauged underneath the dense foliage... Beyond the crumbled statues littering the clearing lies the exterior walls and entrance of the legendary Temple of Isaiis... the resting place of the Pool of Eternal Reflection. Though the walls of the Temple had been fabricated with a stone similar to that of the statues surrounding it, it appeared to have aged far less... Only a few vines and weeds had made their marks upon the walls, which made the numerous etchings of symbols and writing still clearly visible. The only symbols that seemed faded were two large crests of the Vishari and S'den clans, both of which seemed nearly unidentifiable... The enormous gateway leading into the Temple lies hidden from the adventurers' view points, resting behind one of the many statues. "Come on." mutters Elena, signalling to the adventurers with her left hand while stepping past a piece of a broken statue's head. "We haven't got any time to lose, let's make our way into the-" The defender of the isle suddenly stops where she stands, unable to complete her sentence. Gyrfalcon and Timothy notice her eyes widening and quickly rush from their standing points to her current position, only to catch a glimpse of the enormous rusted gates leading into the Temple... They were open. "Damn..." growls Elena through clenched teeth, steadily clutching a hand over her staff. "Have we arrived too late...?" As if to answer her question, the adventurers quickly turn as the trees and bushes surrounding the clearing suddenly quake and quiver. Before the adventurers can so much as mutter a word, hideous zombies and skeletons begin to pour out of the foliage from every direction, approaching the three heroes with awkward movements and swinging a variety of weapons. Dashing towards the Temple and backing themselves up against the walls as it seems to be the one place that zombies aren't emerging from, the adventurers turn to each other with frenzied and worried looks. "There are too many..." growls a shocked Elena with a brief look of fear in her eyes. "It's impossible... we don't have time!" Clutching her staff and preparing for combat as the zombies get closer to the walls, a frenzied Elena turns towards Timothy, then Gyrfalcon and exclaims: "No... one of us needs to go in. Gyrfalcon. You're the strongest of us three, you should go. Go into the Temple, find the Pool, defend it at all costs... Timothy and I will defend you out here. We'll.. we'll join you later, right Tim?" Timothy nods solemnly to this, unseathing his blade as his green eye shimmers slightly. "We're counting on you."

Sighing underneath the light weight of Signe's feet and still clutching the geld he had gathered from the ground where the Scantivia brothers had passed through, Wyvern silently contemplates ways of breaking the news of Madame Quixotic's arrival to the Eldership ... Though he had seen the lavish entrance of the Scantivia brothers' and their caravans, the overgrown lizard had become distracted by the geld they had dropped and hadn't even noticed the venerable gypsy's entrance to the Pen. As far as the reptilian Elder was concerned, his fellow Pen members were still unaware that the fortune teller was coming to the Pen, and was thus quite nervous... After Signe has signed her name on the list of appointments and has dismissed Wyvern from being the right-hand side of her foot rest, the overgrown lizard briefly gasps for breath as his collar becomes looser before searching the halls of the Pen for the nearest Elder to suck up to and break the news... Finding Orlan accompanied by two giraffes a few feet away from the Cabaret Room, Wyvern clears his throat of a few ashes and hisses: "Hi there Orlan... nice day isn't it? Errr... I really like the whole giraffe effect. Definitely adds to your overall sexy sexiness, with the gals into yellow with black spots and all..." "This isn't for my looks, Wyv..." grumbles Orlan while anxiously waiting for the next giraffe head to swoop down and eat out of his hand. "Ah... I see..." mumbles Wyvern, hesitantly continuing after getting off to a bad start. "Listen, Orlan, you're an acceptant Elder... there's something I have to admit to you. I haven't been 100% responsible lately..." Orlan laughs a bit before Wyvern continues. "You see, my desk is one big towering mess, and occasionally I miss an important note or two... well, it turns out we're going to be having a very important guest visiting the Pen. Some gypsy chick... her name's Madame Quintessential, I believe." Orlan rubs a hand over his forehead before responding: "Where have you been, Wyv? Madame Quixotic arrived a few days ago, she's been staying in one of the Pen's Towers. And she's not a chick... more like a rooster crossbreeded with a dung beetle..." Wyvern's eyes widen at this news and he quickly thanks Orlan before swiftly departing back towards the Cabaret Room in the hopes of taking advantage of Madame Quixotic's presence... Orlan turns towards the giraffes, who hadn't eaten from his hand throughout the course of his conversation with Wyv, only to see that the animals had found the pyramind-shaped boxes of Supermummy giraffe food and opened them with their teeth. Having already consumed three or four boxes each, the giraffes had now become bloated creatures that belched old scarub shells and occasionaly spewed shortlived sandstorms... Arriving back in the Cabaret Room and gasping for breath, Wyvern rudely shoves through an enormous crowd of Pen members that had gathered there and makes his way to the sign up sheet only to see that it's temporarily full. Stuttering to himself uncontrollably and unable to wait the 5 minutes it takes for a new sign up sheet to be posted, the greedy reptile quickly throws on a four-leaf-clover T-shirt, two pink horseshoes, and a Mr. Bunnie Brand Lucky Rabbits Foot™ before barging the door to Madame Quixotic's room open and interrupting her in mid-prediction. Dropping to his scaly knees and begging to the venerable gypsy while trying to avoid growing queasy from her attire, the overgrown lizard pleas: "I'm sorry, Madame Quickytoxic, I didn't have a chance to sign up on your sheet! Please forgive me, it was an accident! I was distracted by my precious geld! I would be forever gratefull if you were to read my current fortune... I haven't counted my geld in a long while, and thus am in a desperate need to know the exact amount of fortune I currently have!" ;-p

Wyvern arrives at the Cabaret Room in a typically late manner, bowing apologetically towards the Big Pointy One and Psimon while tipping his party hat and giving the two of them his best belated birthday wishes. Having finished this, the overgrown lizard turns towards Big Pointy One and hands him his very own portable window to jump out of as a gift, grinning and noting that he still has his jump tally sheet at hand. Turning towards Psimon, the overgrown lizard hands the poet a notification that he'll comment on "Just Dying to Say..." some time in the near future, as it's a truly excellent poem... OOC: It's somewhat late, but a very happy birthday to both of you guys!

I would probably have my song done by the Non-Prophets (lyrics and vocals by Sage Francis and production by Joey Beats). Sage can write so vividly on any subject that I'm sure he'd do a fantastic job at detailing my life in a witty manner, and Joey Beats always finds music that compliments his poetry very nicely... The song could be called "Evan-Essence," and could have D.J Abilities scratching the Talib Kweli line "My imagination gives me wings to fly like doves" for the chorus.

Pink Neko purrs quietly in her applicant easychair as she tosses a small bag of catnip from one paw to the other, patiently awaiting the arrival of the infamous Elder of Initiates. The poor kitten had been waiting for the overgrown lizard for around a week, and as a result her bright pink overcoat had gathered a layer of dust thick enough to cause her to radiate a hue of dark purple... Mumbling a tired "meow" as she begins to coil up for another catnap on her easychair, her drowsiness is suddenly interrupted as Wyvern comes barging into the Office's main entrance... Turning towards Pink Neko and flashing one of his toothy grins as he waves a scaly claw, Wyvern dashes into the Office and tosses a few suitecases into a jumbled pile near his desk. Racing into his Office chair and propping his scaly feet onto his desktop, the reptilian Elder then proceeds to snatch Pink Neko's poem application from an endless mountain of paperwork located there. After reading over the poem several times carefully, the greedy lizard turns towards the eager applicant and gleefully hisses: "I ssssee... A very good poem, Pink Nemo, and certainly a tragic yet heart warming tale..." The overgrown lizard pauses for a moment, briefly rubbing his scaly claws together before reaching for one of his suitecases and exclaiming: "... but why care for the enemy when the old cat could be using Almost Dragonic Brand Aphro Enhancement Hair Gel™? That would be certain to bring the attention back to where it rightfully belongs..." Pink Neko sniffles and hesitantly responds: "Well, errr... I-" "One drop of this stuff can turn even the most straightly furred feline into a bouncing ball of fuzz, certain to catch the attention of bystanders!" interrupts Wyvern rudely before quickly adding: "AlmostDragonicAphroEnhancementHairGelisnotresponsibleforaccidents involvingstraycatsmistakingclientsforballsofyarnandtearingthemtoshreds ,clientsbeingmistakenforlargewigs,orclientscreatingoceansofhairduring sheddingseasons." "Uhm..." starts Pink Neko "well, you see Mr. Wyvern..." "Come come now, you're not fooling me Ms. Neko!" interrupts Wyvern once again "I know you'd love the attention it brings, and this stuff'll only cost you 5 geld a bottle... why, you could sell used kitty litter for that much!" "Well, the thing is Mr. Wyvern... I'm a kitten myself and recieve plenty of attention, so I don't need it..." Wyvern is about to speak up again when he suddenly realizes that Pink Neko is, indeed, a bright pink kitten... The layer of dust that had covered her previously had caused the lizard to mistake her for an older cat, but now that it had been shaken off he clearly saw that his efforts were in vain... Grumbling to himself while stamping Pink Neko's application ACCEPTED, the lizard grins at the thought of packaging the Aphro Gel in a shampoo bottle and playing a practical joke on Melba with it instead... ;-p OOC: A good poem and an ACCEPTED application, Pink Nemo, welcome to the Mighty Pen! Apologies for the long wait for a response, I lacked internet access this last week due to some vacationing I was doing. Once again, welcome!

Parmenion mumbles to himself patiently as he sits back in his applicant easychair, awaiting Wyvern's verdict on his application and wondering if perhaps the trick of the poem was too much for the overgrown lizard's almost dragonic brain to handle... Tapping his fingers restlessly against his chairs arm rest, the eager applicant turns towards the Elder of Initiates' desk to see what the overgrown lizard is up to, only to gaze in horror as Wyvern begins to cut his poem application into pieces wth a pair of scissors... "What are you doing?!" cries Parmenion, jumping out of his chair and snatching his application from Wyvern's desk just in the nick of time. The overgrown lizard puts his pair of scissors away and whimpers, glancing towards Parmenion sheepishly and mumbling: "Sorry... I was trying to solve the puzzle of your poem by cutting the application to pieces so that only half of the end of it and half of the next person's application would be showing..." Parmenion shakes his head and sighs in disbelief, wondering how the Almost Dragonic Elder could have possibly misinterpreted the trick of the poem in such a way. Considering options for hinting at the true trick of the poem while not completely revealing it, Parmenion mutters: "Well... think of it this way, Wyv... numerous crosses solve the hidden trick of the poem..." "Hmm, crosses you say?" hisses Wyvern, pulling out a treasure map from one of the drawers of his desk "Of course... I see it now! Out of the numerous 'X's marking treasure on this map, half of the treasure at the end of the map and half of the treasure nearest to it solve the hidden trick! Well, I'm off to treasure hunt then! Woohoo!" "No, wait!" cries Parmenion before Wyvern can rush out of the office, fearful that the lizard will take months to return from his hunting "You're still misinterpreting the trick, I'm afraid..." "I am...?" grumbles Wyvern. "Hmmm... crosses... this wouldn't be connected to your "Christianity" poem would it?" "No!" exclaims Parmenion somewhat angrily, clearly fed up by the lizard's lack of knowledge "Don't you see... you need to connect different parts of the sentences!" "Ooooooh, I get it now!" exclaims Wyvern while snapping a scaly finger. "Let me give the track a shot..." With that, the overgrown lizard jots on Parmenion's application: "Melba's cooking is ACCEPTED And Parmenion often neglected." ;-) OOC: On a more serious note... an ACCEPTED application Parmenion, welcome to the Mighty Pen! I greatly enjoyed your poem and am very glad you reapplied to the Pen... Once again, welcome!

That starry glimmer in the sky A droplet, from endless cloud cascades Those beads that cling as tears to panes Evaporate in vain Trickle not through empty crevice Explode! Leak down to nourish thirst Reach heart and hand, touch brow and thought Imbue a unique stain A soil rich from virtue moist Surrounds the seeds of hopeful bloom Drowning fear in waves of thought To overcome the pain Praying for storms to set me free I reach my hands towards grey horizons... Yet endless dry spells mock me.

Short but sweet... though perhaps "sour" would be a better adjective to use in this case. ;p The quality of the writing makes up for the brevity of the vignette, since it's excellent and had me cringing from start to finish. Having said this, this might be even better if it were expanded a bit... though then again, perhaps that would detract from the base emotions depicted in the post... You set a morbid and hopeless yet angry and vengefull tone in an excellent manner, Valdar. Well done.

Xaious casts a glance towards his wrist watch as he patiently waits for Wyvern's arrival, counting that it had been a total of 49 hours since he had first been seated in his applicant easy chair. Fiddling with some loose hour hands on a stop watch that he had also brought along with him, the Master of Time suddenly raises his head as the office door slams open and the Elder of Initiates comes rushing in... Setting a few bags down on the floor next to his desk and checking the time on a grandfather clock located in the far corner of the room, Wyvern collapses into his favorite easychair and turns towards Xaious as he exclaims: "Sorry I'm a bit la-" "49 hours, 12 minutes, 36 seconds, and 28 milliseconds late to be exact..." interrupts Xaious. "Yeah, ahah, sorry 'bout that..." mumbles Wyvern as he blushes and rubs the back of his scaly head. "Well anyhow, I'm here now..." "Yes... in fact, it's been around 3 minutes and 39 seconds since you've arrived in the office... yet I still haven't seen a verdict for my application." "Right!" exclaims Wyvern, quickly snatching up Xaious' application sheet from his desk top. "I'll get to reading this immediatly..." "I approximate that it'll take you around 30 minutes to-" Before Xaious can finish his sentence, Wyvern sets the application sheet back down on his desk and exclaims: "Excellent application! My third reading of it was the best... One question though: if the entire thing was a dream, then did you really write up a Pen application?" "Well..." responds Xaious "... I must have, considering that you're holding the sheet at this very moment. You're reading seemed somewhat rushed to me, though... I'd advise that you take a bit more time soaking it all in..." "Understood." mutters Wyvern, nodding his head and taking out a magnifying glass as he looks over the application story once again... Three hours and thirty minutes later... Much to Xaious' relief, the overgrown lizard finally finishes carefully reading over his application. Grinning towards the eager applicant and stamping his application ACCEPTED, Wyvern gleefully hisses: "Sorry once again for the lateness in responding... I was caught up in a scheme-" "I know." interrupts Xaious as he happily picks up his ACCEPTED application "It's on the cover of a certain magazine..." Wyvern raises a brow to this statement and quickly begins digging through his office mail, only to find a new issue of "Time Magazine" with his scaly face posing in a distorted grimace on the cover. The headline below his face reads "Wyvern Involved in Coocoo Clock Scandal..." "Wait a minute..." mutters Wyvern in a somewhat confused manner "This is a brand new issue of 'Time.' How did you know my scheme involvement would be on the cover...?" "Well..." responds Xaious in a lighthearted tone as he exits the office. "Let's just say I'm a Master..." ;-p OOC: On a more serious note, Xaious, an ACCEPTED application... Welcome to the mighty Pen! Glad that you decided to apply... I'll be certain to mail you some additional Pen info ASAP. Once again, welcome!

Racouol taps his right foot patiently on the office floor as he awaits the infamous Elder of Initiates' arrival, wondering how long the overgrown lizard would take to get to his application... Thoroughly prepared for an extensive wait given the numerous rumors he had heard of Wyvern's monthly scheming absences, the Lord of Nightmares reaches through his endless pockets for one of the many bags of chips he had brought along with him as a waiting snack. He is thoroughly startled as Wyvern suddenly comes barging through the office's main entrance, however, and accidentaly pulls out a bag of brussel sprouts as a result. Glancing briefly at the bag and tossing it aside in a distaste, the Bearer of Deep Pockets eagerly turns towards Wyvern and exclaims: "So Wyv... what's your verdict on my-" "Application story?" interrupts Wyvern "It's definitely well written... I can relate to that Ugarte fellow since I'm also blamed for everything... I just wish I had one of those nifty Sleep spells he uses..." Having said this, the overgrown lizard quickly whips out a list of "things to do" and marks "Steal Sleep spell from Falcon2K1" on it with his Crow Feather of Reliability before turning once again towards Racouol and muttering: "... I think we should be discussing a more important issue at the moment, though... that of whether or not you're accepted to the Pen." Racouol scratches his chin and frowns before responding: "But... I thought that Pen acceptances were based on the quality of applications?" "Wellll..." hisses Wyvern sinisterly "... sometimes they are, but occasionaly I cook up another test or two. In this case, I'd like to ask you which of the following three Almost Dragonic Frying Pan designs you think will sell the best..." "Errrr..." mumbles Racouol "What do frying pans have to do with th-" "This first design..." interrupts Wyvern while whipping out a piece of paper with a messy drawing on it "... I like to call the 'Face of Greatness' design. The pan is shaped like my beautiful, almost dragonic face... Think it'll sell?" "No." responds Racouol immediatly, cringing at the messy design and shaking his head vigorously. "Where did you get that idea from anyway?" "Eheheh, just a random kitchen incident that occured with Celes Crusador once..." responds Wyvern while twiddling his thumbs innocently. "... Anyhow, moving right along... this second design I like to call the 'Rubber Chicken Deluxe.' The frying pan is made out of high quality elastic rubber, and is perfect for cooking rubber chicken eggs!" "I don't think that'll work either..." mutters Racouol glumly while trying to decipher the jumbled blueprints of the second design "... after all, the frying pan is often used by chefs as a weapon of choice. Elastic rubber wouldn't fare well in combat..." "Good point..." mumbles Wyvern. "... then you'll love this third design! I like to call it the 'Durability Plus' design-" Before Wyvern can continue, Melba the Almost Secretary of Initiates suddenly rushes into the office weilding a prototype copy of the overgrown lizard's "Durability Plus" frying pan. Clobbering the reptilian Elder over the head with the frying pan several times, Melba is pleased to see that the hits don't wear out the pan at all. As the Almost Secretary continues in her relentless clobbering, Racouol gives a standing ovation for the "Durability Plus" design. Wyvern collapses onto his desk and stamps Racouol's application "ACCEPTED" in the process... ;-) OOC: On a more serious note, Racouol, an ACCEPTED application... Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I'll add that it's great to see that you've finally decided to officially joine us, and that it's an honor. Be sure to either post your e-mail addy here or mail me at elitwack90@hotmail.com so I can send you some Pen additional info should I need to. Once again, welcome!

Music albums, record stores Rare CDs, hip hop galore Browse for hours, listen more Spending money, profits sore Listen to'em, listen well Listen close so you can tell What they say, a message seek Headphone listening the peak Stereo sound also swell Must try both so you can tell Which fits better for the disk Before a rating you can risk Listen to them several times Some will grow, others are fine Some you'll take back to the store For selling back and buying more Open CD, smell the booklet New is better, scent is too slick Spend about 3 dollars more For neat smelling booklets galore Make a long list of release dates To save on dough so you're not late On buying the essential disks When they come out (a funding risk) Add to this a few live shows With dancing up in the front row Plus some headnodding solitaire And my Peche Mignon I share. ... Especially the "buying new CDs for the process of opening the plastic and smelling the booklet" bit. ;p

I went and saw "28 Days Later" in theatres today based on numerous recommendations... In my humble opinion, it was a pretty good movie that had it's moments, but didn't live up to the hype... There were a few zombie movie cliches that kind of spoiled parts of the film for me... For example: why do zombies always have to be afraid of light? Why do zombies always have to be completely unintelligent? Why do the main characters always have to decide to explore dark places for food and make stupid decisions when they know how dangerous it is? Etc., etc... Another disappointment for me was that the movie simply wasn't very scary. The beginning had me completely freaked out, but after that there weren't many frightening scenes... Also, I thought the happy ending was a pretty corny, Hollywood-ish affair... Cliches and fear factor aside, though, the film certainly had it's redeemable qualities. The set pieces were brilliant throughout, and I liked how the soldiers were portrayed as more inhuman than the zombies. There were definitely some philosophical and political moments, as well as some interesting subtle imagery... The crow scene was brilliant and caught me completely off guard... 7/10, no more no less... ;p

Myth and Kaleyra dash briskly through the tangled overgrowth adjacent to the stream, the avian scholar occasionally having a bit of difficulty keeping up with the assassin's pace. After what seems like an eternity of running and cutting through vines, the two adventurers finally come to a halt as Myth abruptly stops in the middle of a bundle of tangled weeds and trees, a delicate echo suddenly catching her attention. Glancing towards the ground on which she stands and noticing only vines and overgrowth, the assassin decides to feel the spot with one of her feet to make sure that nothing is amiss... Sure enough, though the feeling of plants and dirt is still there, another texture also seems to be present... that of stone. Turning and signalling towards Kaleyra, Myth coldly exclaims: "Come here, I think I've found something... You're the scholar, so you check it out..." Kaleyra glances inquisitively towards Myth and the seemingly meaningless spot on the ground to which she points, hesitantly approaching the assassin... "Something's here..." continues Myth in the same cold tone "... feel that spot by my feet." Kneeling down on one of her knees and stroking a hand across the vines and dirt that line the ground next to Myth's boots, Kaleyra notes that the texture is certainly different... far more solid than the area surrounding it. The avian scholar immediatly sets about shaking off the vines and dirt that cover this particular spot, and Myth quickly kneels down to help her. It's not long before the two adventurers unveil a granite trapdoor embedded in the ground, with several ancient symbols still visibly engraved on it. Kaleyra immediatly notices that two of the symbols are those of the S'den clan and the Vishari clan. Another symbol seems to depict a Temple, while yet another seems to show a man in distress... Though the two adventurers weren't aware of it, they had accidentaly discovered an alternate entrance to the Temple of Isaiis that even Elena, who knew the island by heart, was completely unaware of. An escape route built ages ago for emergencies, yet which had never been put to use and had been completely forgetten, even by the Clans themselves...

Rhapsody, Fan fiction is perfectly fine to post, just as long as you remember to give the credit to the original work where it's due... It's important to note, however, that completely original stories are probably more likely to get responses and feedback than fan fiction... The best place to post them would be whichever forum fits the style of the piece. Thus if it's a story post it in the Assembly Room, if it's a poem post it in the Banquet Hall, etc. Hope this helps.

As Elena and the two adventurers dart down the path as fast as their legs can carry them, and Myth and Kaleyra make equal progress rapidly following the stream towards the Pool, two ominous figures arrive at the ancient entrance of the Temple of Isaiis. One of the figures casually steps passed the numerous crumbled statues of heroes that litter the grounds outside the Temple, happily admiring the many ancient sigils that mark the Temple's enormous arched gateway as he approaches it. The second figure follows closely behind the first, gently rubbing a spot where one of his eyes used to be as a large sack he carries bounces relentlessly against his sword scabbard. Upon every bounce, the contents of the bag seem to figdet and mumble, and occasionally a stifled cry can be heard from within... Arriving at the gateway of the giant temple and tenderly rubbing a hand across the many symbols engraved on the exterior walls, Jagon cheerfully turns towards his companion Kraisis and grins as he exclaims: "We've finally reached our destination... doesn't the temple look glorious?! Even after all these years, it still maintains the majestic appearence that the clans had intended when they built it... Such is the result of a monument built by those true of faith, with only the purest of intentions..." Kraisis silently nods to this statement as the sack that he carries continues to fidget at his side. "Our minions should be left outdoors..." continues Jagon "Call them from all sides of the island and position them for an ambush. I'm certain that our rivals will be arriving here eventually, and we musn't make entering the temple an easy task for them..." "What of this pathetic excuse for a barbarian?" grumbles Kraisis as he holds up his bag. "I don't recall him being one of theirs..." "Keep him." responds Jagon. "Even if he isn't part of the opposing party, the half elf has a soft spot for humans... use him as bait, and reap upon him the judgement that you see fit. Soon, vengeance shall be yours... an eye for an eye, as they say..." "Aye... and a heart for a heart." growls Kraisis as he spits towards the ground coldly, kicking his sack angrily as another cry is emitted from within. "Indeed..." mutters Jagon soothingly "It is most unfortunate that Celestia cannot bare witness to the Temple with us. She is certainly here in spirit, and you will have your revenge... Now come with me, and stand guard while I pray..." With that, the two figures push open the enormous gateway and step into the Temple of Isaiis...

Excellent story, Zadown! It had me hooked from the beginning to the end... Three things that struck me as particularly brilliant were the characterization of the Quincunx, the pompous dialogue of Jacob's master, and your amazing uses of imagery (particularly the final image of the card twisting in the wind). I thought that the concept of the Quincunx being displayed on Jacob's playing cards was very original as well. Your writing is excellent as always, and this story obviously had a great deal of effort put into it. Captivating stuff.

Love is "Evolve" spelled backwards, minus the "v" found in "Vanity" and the "e" found in "Extravagant."

Wyvern franticaly dashes into the Cabaret Room, decidedly late for the birthday celebrations but wanting to wish Nyyark a slightly belated happy B-day never the less. Turning towards a crow quartet sitting in the far corner of the room, the overgrown lizard takes out a symphony conductor stand and begins conducting the crows in a "cawed" version of "Happy Birthday to You." After he's finished this, the lizard lets the crows improvise on their own version of the crow classic "Cawing on the Dancefloor" as he wanders up to the soaking Nyyark and swiftly shakes his hand, exclaiming: "Happy Birthday Nyyark! Hope you had a great one..." Glancing towards the claw that he had shaked Nyyark's hand with, Wyvern notices that it's wet and mutters: "i hate water..." ;-)