Tag Archives: Silver

Long (Poem)

*Author’s Note: I decided to write either a short story or a poem for each of the drawings that I complete for Inktober. I know I’ve been rather absent on this blog for the past few(?) months. I’ve been letting life get in the way of my muses, so I’m hoping the daily challenges will help jump start me back into writing on a more consistent basis. As I didn’t decide to do so until this morning, there may be a few posts that go up today. This poem goes with the drawing I made yesterday.

How long will you lie
Up until the time you die
Something that’s inevitable
Completely unavoidable
Lining your tongue with silver
The truth isn’t even a sliver
You have no meaning of trust
All your relationships bust
You can only blame yourself
When you put honesty on a shelf
There is nothing you can say
That’ll justify you devious ways
Prepare to forever be alone
All that you loved will be gone
Who wants to be around a liar
I’m better off standing in fire
You’re a ruthless, insensitive soul
Convincing others lead is actually gold
Up until the time you die
I’m sorry that’s how long you’ll lie

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Long 

Decided to participate in Inktober, even if I am five days late. The point of Inktober isn’t to be perfect but to develop drawing skills throw small daily challenges. That’s what I’m hoping to get out of it, at least. Day 5 Challenge is “long.” 


Taking of Medalia

Leven, the Outlands prince, waved a hand, forcing open Medalia’s throne room doors. Despite the heavy blockade. His silver armor glistened as much as his bright yellow eyes. A knowing smirk rested on his face.

The soldiers guarding their king trembled. They knew what the foreign prince was capable of unleashing. And his full powers had yet to be seen.

“Kill him!” King Talus cried from his throne.

Hesitating, they rushed forward.

Leven lifted a hand, and all their necks snapped at once. He stepped over their fallen bodies. Gaze trained on Talus. Holding out an arm, the peppered king’s sword came to him. “You’ve grown weak, old man.”

Talus stood with confidence. “The Medalia we know will die with me. You’ll do nothing but destroy it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m going to take it as my own, seeing how my parents banished me from the Outlands.”

“Their only lack in judgement was that they didn’t foresee you coming here.”

Leven’s grin never faded. He inspected the jeweled sword. “It’s a pity, really. How useless Medalia is now. Your generals have been slain, your son has been captured by my army, and I can waltz right in and take your throne.” He teleported behind Talus. “Your time is up.” In one swift move, he beheaded the king with his own sword. Stood splattered with blood. Looking very much like his mother with his pale skin and charcoal gray hair falling just past his shoulders.

A small gasp caught the Outlander’s attention. He whirled around. Someone was behind a pillar. He teleported to the source of the sound. Grabbed the servant girl by the neck and lifted her up.

Her thin frame quivered.

His head slightly tilted. “There is a power about you that I cannot read. How strange. But I can tell the old king favored you.”

She struggled under his grasp. Fear etched in her face.

“I won’t kill you. Not yet. You may prove interesting. But I am your new king.” He dropped her. “You will serve me, now. I will make you my personal slave. Tell me your name so I know how to call you.”

Throwing herself on the floor, she remained in the lowest form of submission. Her voice small. “T-Teckia, my…my lord.”


My D&D Character Interview: Rogue

In the beginning, there was darkness. It was, after all, the Underdark. We were always on the run–my parents and I. You see, they had fallen out of their queen’s favor because they couldn’t have children of their own. There were always spiders chasing us. Always. Did I mention my first parents were drow? Anyway, that was the beginning of my life–running, fighting, darkness. I eventually had enough and ran away, went topside. Didn’t expect much. Especially since I only spoke Undercommon. Turned out, I understood Common and Elven. That was how I pieced together I was half human, half elf. That, and that’s what everyone told me I was. The developing years rendered me in no better shape than when I was with the drow couple. I bounced from home to home, place to place, staying with whoever would take me in. The families weren’t the problem–I was. I became rather aggressive over the years. Often hurting the other kids. Then I’d be sent away. Oh, and everyone was scared of my bright silver eyes. I always liked my eyes. Mainly because I could freak people out. There was this one time I set up a–okay, okay, back on topic. I never meant to hurt anybody. It was just, I felt like there was a force inside me. I always felt the darkness. Still do. I figured it was because I was raised by drow. Now, I’m not so sure. I mean, I don’t have any drow blood in me. You see, I get very angry very quickly. Many times, abnormally so. And when I start to get beyond control, my scars on my chest plate start glowing and burning. First time it happened, I thought I was going to die. It scared the life out of me. I became accustomed to it as I grew. When I was old enough to realize I could survive on my own, I took that chance and ran. Went to a town never been to before. Started begging, stealing, the lot. Whatever I could do to make it to the next day. Eventually took on teaching myself how to fight. I joined underground fist battles, trying my hand and winning some coins. Got beat more times than I’d like to admit, but I learned quickly. Developed my own style. It also turned out I had a natural knack for weaponsmithing. Made a pair of short swords and added them to my attire. Also acquired sweet red and black leather armor. That compliments my deeply rich red hair quite nicely, I must say. As I went about my adventures, I got called many things–thief, beggar, stray, waif, demon-girl, half-blood, the list goes on. I was mostly called a rogue. I remember swiping some bread, and this old lady screeched, “Stop stealing our life, rogue!” Her scream was hilarious. But she called me rogue as if it was my name. I mulled it over for a bit. It fit, had a nice ring to it. Besides, I never liked any of the names my foster families had ever given to me. Don’t even remember them. So I became Rogue.

But that became my life. Stealing, running, fighting. Surviving. Occasionally, something…weird would happen. I’d be fighting somebody intensely, get pushed past my limits, and a very tiny voice in my head would call upon something. My scars start glowing and burning, then! Darkness. I black out. It’s happened about, oh, four or five times. Here’s the weird part. The opponent would be gone. Vanished. Poof. No trace, no nothing. And I’d be completely unscathed except for the scars dully aching. No cuts, slashes, bruises, nothing. Not even from the previous battle. And I’d still have everything on my person. Weird, right? After the first time that happened, rumors spread. That I turned people into pure darkness. Or incinerated them or something. And after the first time, I completely went off on my own. Took shelter in the forests and survived off the land. Helps being part elf. I try to stay away from people because, frankly, I don’t know what happens when that happens. I’m kinda scared to find out. But anyway, that’s pretty much my life so far. As far as personal details go, I’m a female half human, half elf, as previously stated. I have bright silver eyes. As previously stated. My hair is deep red–as previously stated–and falls to my lower back, with a black streak like a silvermark by my face and jagged, black ends. I stand 5’8′, weigh 120 pounds, and my skin is slightly tan from being outside all the time. And I also have the scars right underneath my collar bone. One goes horizontally in a rather jagged fashion, while the other is a straight vertical line down the middle. Annnnd…that’s pretty much it. Think I covered everything. So. Anything else you need to know?


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