Ozymandias

With surprising speed, the Loremaster removed the point of his spear, and hurling it in a straight line Kikuyu's teacher would have admired. "I know you heard me the first time, whoreson.", he snarled quietly. At that exact moment, Sir walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat felt hands at his neck. They were strong, but gentle. They were slipping something over his head. "Wear this," a voice that he immediately recognized whispered. "It will protect you, but only once." So did Kikuyu. So did Wyvern, who immediately recognized an amulet of protection- a thing he'd not seen since Terra. The javelin, as it was now revealed to be, struck home in their black-garbed foe, and another explosion rent the air as a lightning bolt flew from the dark skies to eagerly caress the javelin as it lodged deeply in its' target.. the tang of ozone filled the air. Ozymandias drew his knife and charged at the Necromancer, glinting blade ready. Seventy other Ozymandiases did the same. "Drown.", they said as one.

Hjolnai is paladin of our staff unlike any other, Walnut has quite dapper verbosity, and Ciri is full of 'satiable curiosity, so promoted to Pages now you be! Поздравления снова!

The Heartiest Reading Experience Encompasses Creativity, Heart, Emotion, Expansion, Reading between the lines, Straight through. For Our Range Of Understanding Relies much on story and writing. Not Everyone Will Put Awakening Goal Endeavours first in priority. So we cheer for Walnut, Hjolnai, and Ciri!

The heavy clouds billowed in an out in a slow stacatto that put Kikuyu in mind of one of the few live sushi dishes she had eaten (and regretted). Leaves and smaller branches in the surrounding stretch of forest had caught flame, and flickered silently. Noone spoke; not even Wyvern. Heartbeats ticked away the silence. Equipped with predator's hearing, Wyvern heard it first; a strange noise of something heavy flying through the air, but with a faint chime of metal. It was no thrown weapon, though her own remarkably sensitive ears had been assaulted by a series of close range explosions this day, Kikuyu knew this immediately. The echo betrayed a balance that was all wrong. All saw the brief flash of metal and white as it landed undramatically in the grass with a small rustle. It was a chunk of skull -an eye socket, scorched- with the top half of a sword jammed through it point first. Walnut's nose flinched involuntarily. It was the first time since their battle had begun that he smelled fear on his comrades-in-arms. The furious cloud of thick ash finally began to settle, and the elbow of an arm that was easily six feet long, ivory, and had never been born in nature. Wyvern swallowed hard, eyes bulging. Kikuyu simply stared, feeling the crawling numbness that had been threatening her heart since her sister had been taken begin to send hungry tendrils forth again. The arm swung forward at the shoulder, and did not stop until the entirety of the monster pitched forward onto the ground with a dull crash. There was no left side to it's torso or pelvis anymore. Everything above the stump of half a collarbone was gone. There were no lights, otherworldly or otherwise around the thing now. The trench that ran beside and behind Wyvern stirred, and the portion near his tail asked groggily, "Where..is the orc? ..the wolf?" In the trench was Ozymandias, miraculously unscathed, save for being very, very dirty, and swordless.

Do not attempt to straighten your hair while holding a used lollipop. Chaperone a high school dance at least once. cap candy brand Harry Potter Blood Pops are a tough sell, even to the most avid Harry Potter fan. Observe any potential room mates' sanitary habits quietly, and without comment for as long as possible. Your life is more than guys, or girls. The "food...or books?" question can be answered either way you want with easy success, if you plan ahead.

As far as I know it's still supposed to be out in April of 2009. At least that's what Amazon also says. Hm. I'll double check when I go to work today.

Under the force of Sir Ordolar's attack the craeture lurched so violently Ozymandias swung like a pendulum. As it settled onto the prone form of the orc, Kikuyu cried out her plan to a still grimly dangling Loremaster. His eyes refocused on the hurtling line, and with one mighty swing, kicked the clay weapon with both heels solidly enough to send it looping once around the thing's massive neck. It landed loosely, but stuck fast on the stained white spurs of bone. Ozymandias meanwhile swung backward and dropped his right hand to his sword once more. With a flash, it was out and being driven inbtween the ribs above his head. So secured, he began climbing the inside of the creature's ribcage, his face lit up in nightmare by the swirling light therein. He saw the ninja's brief start at this manuever and shouted back to her, "Don't worry about me!! Just do it!"

Ozymandias dropped into a crouch as he came nose to shin with the thing, and leaped. Jamming his sword's hilt into his teeh teeth in midair, he landed on the monster's upper leg and shimmied up it like a tree trunk. Crouching on all fours on it's pelvis, he launched himself into the air again, sword sheathed this time. The thing lurched violently, and he narrowly grabbed hold of its' lowest rib before falling to certain demise underneath a splintered foot wider than his body.. With KIkuyu sailing toward it, Ordolar chopping away like a demented woodcutter, and Ozymandias swinging from it, the skeletons thing was going mad with rage. It aimed a savage whip strike at its' airborne opponent even as it went to tear the crawling nuisance from its torso. Ordolar seemed forgotten for the moment. The flying Wyvern careening toward it's head seemed as yet unnoticed...

The Dark Tower by Stephen King Oh. My. The most sweeping epic I've read in a long, long time. I just finished book five of the seven last week, maybe not even since The Lord of the Rings. It's already got so very much. A near soliloquy on Pepsi that was actually quite moving, probably the best inappropriate use of Harry Potter ever, a very, very creepy monorail, and the most likeable heroin addict I've ever seen. The series even crosses over into much of King's other novels directly. Wolves of the Calla features Salem's Lot elements in a biiiig way. I'm loving this story so much, I think what I'll do now wthat I've finished Wolves, I'm going to start reading the crossover novels. I don't *want* it to end!!!! Did I mention this is the first King I've ever read? No matter what, though, I can guarantee that it'll be the best sc-fi/horror/western/fantasy epic you'll ever read. Dreamcatcher by Stephen King One of the few cases since childhood where I watched the movie first, then read the book. Most King fans I've heard from turn their nose sup at the movie; that the movie cut out too much. I've made it almost two hundred pages in, and I already see marked differences. For one, our boys are markedly less noble and pure. Not in any horrifying way, mind you, just very normal kids, then very...wel, mostly normal adults who are very, very depressed. So far, so good. The Forty-Niners by Alan Moore Moore remains an irascible, humanity hating old bastard who can write more creatively than eight hundred five year olds. Top 10: The Forty-Niners (a prequel to his series Top 10) show him not slowing down at all. Vampires as vaguely Jewish chatty old folks is awesome. Not to mention super-cabbies. P.S.- Pat, Rothfuss' second book has been released for awhile now.

Ozymandias braced his sword in both hands and charged forward, zig-zagging as he went, barely sidestepping crackling strikes from the monster aimed directly at the top of his skull. Thirty yards, twenty, fifteen..he drew within the last ten yards of the thing, still dodging, still ready, and uttered only one word. "wqnxw."

"Living is simple it's gravity gravity isn't so hard Living is simple it's entropy entropy falling apart I'm falling apart again Living is simple and breathing is easy it's easy to do Living is simple and losing is easy I'm losing my cool All will be made well will be made well will be made well will be well" -Switchfoot, "Living is Simple"

"that is, unless anyone else has any other ideas?" Jolinar finished earnestly. "I have one," a quiet voice said. The swirl of familiar blue robes slid shards of night into the air of the drawing room. A bronze, weathered face peered out of one of the patches of stars with serious eyes and a deeply creased frown. Ozymandias stepped to the young Dreamer's side, putting a comradely hand on her shoulder. All eyes turned to him expectantly. Stepping forward once more, he raised both arms for quiet. "The Pen is Mightier than the Sword," came his words in a loud, ringing tone. "We all know these words and respect, even revere them." The ancient eyes scanned all of them intently.. "But what do they truly mean?" With that, he drew his sword with a flourish, then slammed the point into the ground. There he left the blade standing, vibrating still, and emitting a low hum from the impact. "That this thing is limited. One only has to look at it to see how finite it is. Can a sord plan a war? Can a sword give orders? Can a sword choose its target? No. Such things are done throuhg words. Through ideas. The sharpest mind will ever be the better weapon than even the sharpest edge, hottest flame, most voracious disease. Words will cut and wound grievously those who fell no pain from the knife. Ideas are where weapons come from. Is it not logical that their source is more formidable than those products ever will be? Is it not true that men fight with weapons, but fight and die for ideals? We are living proof of this. We are followers of an ideal; we are a fertile breeding ground of ideas. We are far more dangerous than this heretic who seeks to destroy us with his mindless violence." Some of those assembled, and many across the Keep's land became aware that they weren't heraing things; there was the tinkling of bells echoing through the castle. And it was growing louder. As well, it seemed the air around the keep seemed to lighten. Every shadow cast in the castle jerked, as if they were caged animals anticipating release. "Let's you and I show him!", Ozymandias roared. "LET'S SCRAPE THIS SCUM OFF OUR HOME." Even as every shadow in the keep, from the smallest nook to the highest ceiling, spewed forth wave after wave of shade with all-too human features and silent but undenaible purpose, the sky glowed the brightest emerald green as a tide of creatures rolled forth from the treetops. The looked exactly like minitaure, foot-long mimicrys of dragons that shone like pure jewels in the brightest sunlight- but they were alive, and moved by the thousands in the same direction as the march of shadows. The inhuman force headed as one for the unhallowed one closing on the Mighty Pen keep.

The four extra Loremasters were not there when the group glanced back to them. The lone Ozymandias raised both hands toward the six undead with strange canisters in each of his hands. With an odd thwip noise, each discharged a gray goo that quickly spread out in a fanlike formation. Upon connecting with the targets, the spray rapidly hardened into a lumpy webbing that secured the creatures to each other and to the ground. They pulled, and pulled, but were stuck fast. "If you would destroy them, Sir Knight?", Ozymandias asked in the same icy calm.

Swinging the point upwards at the last moment, he planted the blunt end of the weapon into the ground behind him, and used it as a vaulting-pole to deliver a savage kick to the neck of a ghoul with its back to him. The creature did have a basic structure as similar to a human's anatomy as the Egyptian had hoped. It's neck snapped in two, the head lolling backwards across his foot for the briefest of moments before all the thing's muscles went slack and it collapsed in a heap. Ozymandias rode the creature to the ground like a skateboard, already dropping his spear and drawing his sword. The Loremaster hit the ground almost spinning as he attacked with blade, fist, and knee. Every strike drove with terrific force straight over the ensnared ninja who was still being pulled through the air. Like any predator confronted by a competitor, the ghouls were loath to relinquish their meal, even when threatened with death. Three stumbled away under the force of the onslaught, but did not drop. The fourth ghoul fixed hate-filled eyes on the Loremaster and howled with rage as its arms fell limp at its sides. Its triceps had been severed. Kikuyu was free! Ozymandias stepped back, and sheathed his sword. The creatures regained their footing and rushed at him, snarling and snapping; the three able-bodied ones with talons flexing in anticipation. Bizarrely, he spoke to them. What truly took the Pennites aback was hearing all of his normal etiquette with no warmth whatsoever. "I don't know if you can hear me, grave robber, but if you can, know this-", he said evenly. The things were so enraged, they charged straight over the prone ninja without slowing. Their teeth and claws descended for fingers, arms, neck- and they stopped, literally dead, each with an identical sword point jutting from their chests. "Never touch my people.", he finished, as four other Ozymandiases let the corpses drop to the ground before beheading them.

Ozymandias frowned. Ghouls circled round him like frustrated hunting cats, slavering. No, that wasn't saliva. I hope that's only ichor., the old Pharaoh thought. He spun his spear around in a solid arc, optimistically aiming once again at eyes and knees. Again, the unliving but agile creatures danced out of the way, widening, then quickly tightening the circle again. Good, the Loremaster reasoned. They're very hungry. They haven't eaten in quite a while.... He thrust forward, throwing his one hundred and eighty-five pounds into the strike. It struck home in the xiphoid process of the ghoul in front of him. The spear point sank almost completely into the gangrenous flesh. The ghoul was wrenched to a halt, but did not fall, held in place as it was. It looked down at the offending weapon, wrapped taloned fingers around the shaft, then looked at Ozymandias again. It hissed its defiance. The rest snarled low in their throats as they stalked closer to their prey. With a smirk, he twisted the spear. It didn't move. Damn... he thought, smile fading.

June tenth. Excellent.. Standing dead center in the Library, Ozymandias threw his head back and bared his teeth in a feral grin. Arms outstretched, he made strange twitching motions with his fingers, as if playing an unseen stringed instrument in each hand; and things began to happen. Books rocketed forward into the air from the resting places on the thousands of shelves, flew forward many feet, and began spinning in circle after after circle after misaligned circle around the inside of the Library. Round and round they spun, ever faster, each circle above the last spinning in the opposite direction, until a tornado roared in all of its fury inside the Pen's most cherished works. People all over the keep looked to he building in wonder and trepidation, wondering what the mad howl was. Without warning, the roof of the Library twisted away and catapulte dinto the air high above the keep, a maelstrom of wind and paper and leather bindings issuing forth, and away to an unknown land. The roof corkscrewed back down and landed with a reverberating thud- returned to its' original place with no damage. Elsewhere, a young woman stares wearily a computer screen. Her eyes and set of jaw are the only things that show her strain. Heaving a small sigh, her mind returns to the task at hand, and she raises her hands to the keyboard once more, but they never reach it. From the corner of her eye, she spots a funnel cloud flying at her window- horizontally, point first. She only had time to tense herself to leap from her chair for shelter before it hit. A thunderous explosion rocked the countryside, and girl and tornado were gone. Elsewhere still, she found herself utterly unharmed, being carried through the air in the arms of one of the last people she expected to see in her homeland, let alone soaring through the air at the center of a storm, on immense wings of book pages. He looked into her eyes briefly, before turning back to their flight path. His smiling eyes were a greyer blue than the ocean that rushed past beneat them as he suddnely grinned openly, and said, "Want to get away for a while?" "Where...?" was the first thing she got out. "Columbia, I was thinking.", he continued, letting his grin settle into a smirk "I can hear the coffee plantations calling us from here- not to mention the plethora of cocaine merchants in need of a good ass kicking. How about it?" (Happy Birthday! =^-^=)

The animated dead lurched through the dark, spreading across the Pen lands in twos, threes, ones, sixes, sevens in a pattern that slowly unfurled like a blooming flower. Two such creatures made their halting but steady way through the trees, hands outstretched, almost as men groping their way along in the dark. Funeral clothes that were already being devoured by fungus were torn and tattered by errant branches and rocks. Their flesh went in small degrees with each scrap of cloth, but no sound came from their pitted throats in response. The only thing the creatures knew now was their commands to march forward through ever obstacle they could, around every one they could not, and to rend, tear, crush, devour anything they came across that was not them. Thus their confusion went straight through befuddlement and into stupor as a woosh sound accompanied their sudden inability to support themselves on their lower legs, and they went crashing to the ground. The sad, slow things had enough time to perceive that something that glinted came down for each of their faces before they could see no more, then knew no more. With a look of revulsion, Ozymandias cleaned his knife and sword on the grass before retreating into the brush. Hoof beats were approaching on the eastern road. In the keep, the Loremaster rubbed gingerly at his temple as he walked slowly toward the Library.

The Cabaret is fine. It's our general discussion forum. :>) As for cliffhanger: n. 1. A melodramatic serial in which each episode ends in suspense. 2. A suspenseful situation occurring at the end of a chapter, scene, or episode. 3. A contest so closely matched that the outcome is uncertain until the end.

A lone figure strode forth from the gate of the Pen, picking his way with a metal spear in hand. A cloak as dark as midnight blew open in the breeze, revealing a sword at one of his hips, a curved dagger at the other. He would seem a harbinger of death, but for the twinkle of a million stars in the cloak's cloth. Ozymandias' thoughts marched with a cadence that matched his quick step. He has hurt Degorram. He now marches on the Keep. I'll have to wait until he gets close. Too close. Until then, however, I remain an old man with baser trickery still up my sleeve. As well as a few other things, he thought with a smile untouched by mirth. Meanwhile, an odd sight indeed was steadily making its way around the entirety of the Mighty Pen Keep: Shadow Creatures roved everywhere, with parchments clutched tightly in their fists. Upon their quietly but insistently catching the attention of every Pennite, those sheets of parchment were unfurled; one for each denizen. They all read only: WAR. PREPARE. Ozymandias's nostrils flared as he made his way to the edge of the forest.

A Shadow Creature is a simple thing; simple also to call into being and to command, once one learns how. They have little thought of their own- in the realms of the dark, they are the rough equivalent of insects in that regard, but have such voluminous memories and keen senses as to be able to grasp and retain any concept explained to them in completion. This, coupled with their innate shadowstuff forms and lack of need for rest, in another world, another time had made them favorite footsoldiers of strange, powerful, and bloodthirsty wizards. Their origins and nature were lost now, to all but a few, on this new world they frequently found themselves (itself? None were sure...), but one man still spoke to them every day, still had work for them, so according to the old pacts, they did that work, and, insofar as they could form such opinions, didn't mind it. It was normally much quieter, very uneventful times than they (it?) had been accustomed to for unknown millennia. This new work that included watching for events like these that were unfolding between Wyvern, Kikuyu, Jolinar, and the weather. The Shadow Creature that had been watching the proceedings with customary silent attention now peeled away from the unliving shadows on the wall and left to make its report.

A friendly face turning away will ruin a mood quickly. If it looks like you haven't got what you want, look again. You may be surprised. Men: Always follow through when you want to show her how much she means to you. Some of the greatest words you will ever hear are, "You make me feel beautiful." Hug therapy. Even if you start your day by waking up late, missing your most important appointment of the day, then soiling yourself, that STILL doesn't mean it will end badly.

Congratulations to Da_Yog and DL_Snake on attaining the rank of Quill-Bearer! Congratulations to TheResearcher on attaining the rank of Page!! BOOYAH! :>)

The third preview ends, and the screen goes black again. It stays that way for six full seconds; there is no sight, no sound. The people sitting in the rows around you become restive. Hello? When the call comes, you are unsure for a split second if the man talkign to the woman with him in a too loud voice, but he has fallen silent, staring again, with the rest of the theater at the still blank screen, waiting expectantly. There is another moment of silence before the bright, unmistakable flash of steel- or was it mercury? -fills the screen. Eyes have just enough time to process the glint of light on silvery metal before the image is accompanied by a clear, ringing crash of steel on steel. Then the image is gone, with the ringing tapering off into nothing. Your brain has now had enough time to process the fact that the metal was two sword blades crafted in a very European style. You have to smile to yourself a little as you realize some jumped in their seats, the whole incident is so abrupt. Hello?, calls the voice again, now plainly distressed- perhaps sad, perhaps frightened. From the dark comes a rustle that is at first unfamiliar, then becomes the sight of a yellowish scroll being unrolled by wizened fingers. The owner of the hands takes up a quill, dips it once into a deep, burgundy ink, taps excess liquid out into the jar. They begin to write: Once upon a time... The picture is gone. The voice calls out again, more desperate, "Is there anybody out there?" Another hand slides into view on the blackness- but this one is undeniably feminine; so light, so delicately contoured it seems alomst luminous. Diaphonous silk slides down the wrist and back again as it gestures slowly, fluidly, up and down. It beckons to someone or something that cannot be seen. There is another break in sight as the arm is withdrawn. This time, there is no voice calling out to someone who does not answer- there is only a granite wall standing before you, filling the screen, brick by ponderous brick. There is a voice, but whether it is the same or not is impossible to tell- its screams are too rending to the ear, though it is muffled. After long seconds have passed, the wall is in turn replaced by a title: The Sword Then: COMING SOON Starring MATTHEW FOX as "DL_Snake" TIM ALLEN as "Da_Yog" MILO VENTIMIGLIA as "TheResearcher" Original Songs by STEREOGRAM Music Composed by DOCTOR STEEL Written by OZYMANDIAS and LIQUIDGENERATION.COM QUIZZES Produced by GWAIHIR Directed by OZYMANDIAS a THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD PROMOTIONS Production

looks And the world speeds past, and swings around...heavy tiled roofs of immense towers stand proudly in the sunlight...fire rages and black smoke billows into an even blacker night as a siege finally erupts...lone travelers here and there and yon pad softly across the ground as they tune a myraid of instruments..wings beat with majextic and terrible grace through the air that belong to nothing living...flowers..honeysuckle..singers by fireplaces...trees that point to paths..long banquet halls...laser pistols...robot armies..things looking back from the black as the swim past..guitars..gowns..doublets..capes...masks...swords...fish...air so very blue... looks again And he sees his bedroom, and computer screen, and furniture outlined in the dark. And he bows his head, and thanks you.

Well water What fish Sea foam was what the inscription said. The blind explorers each ran their fingers across the letters in turn, silent for long minutes. "What do you make of it?", the child asked the woman. The woman repeated the inscribed words aloud, paused, and shook her head. "I'm not sure," she said at last. "What about you, Aesop?", she asked the man. With a shrug of his shoulders, the man replied, "It sounds like raven."