http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/ Ferrinshadik Sun, 20 Aug 2006 00:10:04 PDT http://www.blogdrive.com Copyright 2006. Writing RPG http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/12.html Sun, 20 Aug 2006 08:05:20 GMT When the dust settled, it was already over. No one had really been able to see anything through the cloud of dust the two men kicked up while they were fighting out there, but they'd all been smart enough not to try for a closer look. Men like that got to fighting, you never knew who else was gonna get hurt. Mercs were all hard men, dead-eyed, and in the end it didn't really matter who won; there was enough critters killin' in this country without men adding to the count. Still, they all leaned close when the fighting stopped, peering through the dust as the hot, heavy breeze carried it... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=12 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/11.html Sun, 07 May 2006 09:28:37 GMT this is proof of three things:1- I am still writing2- What I am writing is incomprehensible to anyone not involved in the story.3- I am always, always a fangirl.Sybil settled the last of the papers around her, thinking hard. They were spead in a circle around her, with dates, times and prophecies next to phone bills and computer printouts. She was chewing on the pen that had been holding her hair up, staring at the numbers as if they could reveal the secrets. There was something she was supposed to see here, something naggingly familiar. She dragged her laptop over, ran some of the phone... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=11 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/2.html Sat, 21 Jan 2006 09:34:15 GMT The wench sat arrogantly in the seat she had stolen. A heavily jeweled gown that should have made movement impossible hindered her not at all as she languidly gestured across the room. Arrayed around her were her minions, lounging as if they too belonged in that hallowed place, predator eyes watching, watching. The court was absolutely silent. The reason for this lay on the floor. Bleeding and broken, the body of the king lay silent on the floor. None were allowed near it, and all dreaded what might happen next. Would happen next. For she was the Queen of the wolves, and... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=2 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/10.html Thu, 01 Dec 2005 00:01:49 GMT It didn't take much to scuff her pathetic fire out; the rain had half done the job for her, even in the relatively sheltered cave she'd spent a miserable night in. She shook out her manto [straw cloak], wrinkling her nose as she caught the smell of mold coming up from it. She supposed even the southeastern answers to torrential rain couldn't stave off rot indefinitely... her eastern clothing certainly hadn't fared as well as the silk she'd purchased in Cho-Holuth, but even that was starting to reek of the mold that came as a natural side effect of the unceasing damp. At least she'd managed... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=10 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/6.html Fri, 25 Mar 2005 08:47:49 GMT His feet scraped the pale sand, drawing great streaks out of the earth. He didn’t care; there was no man left alive in the temple with the courage to follow him. He shuddered violently, almost falling to his knees with the force of the revulsion that coursed through him. He’d seen to that. The walls of the cave he’d found jutted at all angles about him. It was more a ravine, a jagged tear in the earth, granite walls looming until all but the most filtered morning light was lost. It was darkness that he sought, an escape from the light that burned with the knowledge of what he had done.... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=6 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/9.html Fri, 04 Mar 2005 08:25:28 GMT It wasn’t raining. In retrospect, a lot of things would have been better if it was. I wouldn’t have gone for a walk, for instance. But the sky was clear, the night relatively warm. I wasn’t really expecting any trouble in a suburb on a Wednesday, but my expectations have a habit of being wrong. The truth is, I’ve always had expectations that were less than reasonable. So when I heard the footsteps coming up fast behind at my side, I told myself it was just a jogger. A jogger, at two a.m., wearing heavy boots. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when the shoulder crashed into mine,... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=9 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/7.html Tue, 24 Aug 2004 13:02:05 GMT She stood under the old, dead tree, breath heavy. It had stood here—God only knew how long it stood here, at the edge of the world, weathering everything nature could throw at it. It had outlasted all its mates out here on the bluff; cracked stone was all the legacy of trees hundreds of years gone. By all estimations, this tree stood longer than any of them. But it was dead now, or mostly dead, and even though it was still standing it had to be cut down. They were going to build here, right on the edge of the cliff; the contractors assured them it was deep, strong bedrock, all the way... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=7 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/8.html Thu, 12 Aug 2004 23:53:05 GMT The dragons were kind enough to grant me wings. Not directly, of course, though sometimes it feels as though I could fly off in a stray breeze without them. But as the dragons conferred upon us their power, they also granted us minds, hands, and the will to create. I love Hazen more than I love my life; he was a gift from the dragons, and the wings were a gift from him. Not that I am normally sentimental, but show me a mother who doesn’t get sentimental about their child from time to time… but I digress. The dragons were kind enough to give me wings, and the means to use them; they... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=8 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/3.html Sun, 06 Jun 2004 09:47:08 GMT The crowd shifted uneasily, white hands gesturing and fluttering like nervous birds. It was disconcerting to see from this far up; everyone swathed in grey, but for those bright, clean, perfect hands. They were the hands of someone who had never picked up a tool, never sown seeds, never pulled weeds or even harvested fruit until their backs screamed and fingers went numb. But that was, on a certain level, understandable. After all, most had never even considered the notion that they might be taking advantage of the Loesanne, any more than they considered that perhaps the conformity and... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=3 http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/archive/4.html Fri, 04 Jun 2004 09:57:35 GMT This is a pretty dark introspection piece, where my expreienced solar exalted character sees her friend who has been brainwashed/mindbuggered. Not a happy one, but for Brynne, few of them are. Poor Brynne. Here and now, we will never be again; for I have found, all that glitters in this world is sure to fade… away… again…It was wrong. Somewhere, it had all gone wrong. The world had tipped, and they were all going to spill into the sky: women half-dressed and screeching false happiness, Men in masks that didn’t conceal cruel smiles, skeletons dancing like string puppets. The mad... (more) http://ferrinshadik.blogdrive.com/comments?id=4