Today's post is by Lindsey. Sorry, Lindsey, I've forgotten your last name. Anyway, we've only recently met and I don't know very much around her either, so I'll let Lindsey introduce herself.
G'day world! I come from the same world as one Guardian Lialla, but I daresay nobody really knows about her either. It's best if she introduced herself to you herself, so... (hint, hint, Jo).
Up until the day I cleaned out my wardrobe and woke up the next morning hearing weird noises outside my window, whereupon an eagle came crashing in through my open window, I was your average teenager. Going to school, hanging out with friends and all that. We live on the border of the suburbs and the country, so unlike most of the other suburbians and city people, we knew that there were some strange things about the earth that defied explanation.
"Ask your parents," the eagle had said, but when I had asked, they had no idea what I was talking about. "A talking eagle? In your room? You must have been dreaming!" The thing was that the clay tablet with clawed markings and the drawing on it certainly weren't my doing.
Turned out, when my parents were younger, they had helped the Guardians free one of their kind, with the help of the animals... only my parents forgot all about it because they thought it had just been some childish game they'd played. Now that the animals and Guardians were needing some help again, it took them a while to realise that what they had done was real. Before I go on any further, let me explain what the Guardians are.
The Guardians are a race or beings very much like humans that had been made by the Maker or Creator to be caretakers of the world until we humans came along. It was their job to teach the humans to the best of their ability how to not only use the world's resources responsibly, but to appreciate what they had. Unfortunately, we humans can be somewhat stubborn and don't always like taking the advice of others. While there have been some mixing of the Guardians and humans through marriage, they are still quite different. The Guardians being born with an innate ability to understand the earth, the animals and the plants - the things they had been born to protect. Sadly, when humans came on the scenes, the Guardians ceased reproducing and have been slowly dying out ever since. Their fate, they call it. I disagree, but it's not for me to say.
To cut a long story short and at this summary you may scream, because it makes the story sound so ordinary and generic, even though it isn't. Basically, when my parents realised that 'game' they had played when they were children was real, they agreed to help, along with me. We visited one of the Guardians in the mountains where its teeth bites into the woolly clouds and learnt what the problem was. From there, we met and joined with Guardian Lialla and some of her friends and set out to correct the problem and convince the wayward humans that what they were doing was wrong. Humans that are convinced that they are correct, do not take very well to being told they are wrong by people 'unqualified'. There was a big fight, including the involvement of a rogue Guardian and the freeing of another that had been imprisoned in her own land. Stuff happened and then we were expected to go back to our old 'normal' lives, forgetting all the things that had happened. Even our animal friends were told not to keep contact with us, so that we could return to our old lives. Happily, that didn't happen and Guardian Lialla still visits when she can, despite troubles in her own land. How could they expect us to forget?
I'm worried about Lialla. Humans are encroaching on her land and they have no concept of Guardians. When I mention it, she just laughs and says everything will work out, even though she still has the scars from the last encounter... but she can't even sleep soundly within her own territory. It's just not safe. Add to that, her land is the last home to the dreaded Aarchnan wasps and teaching them to farm is almost like teaching a wild cat not to hunt. Last I heard, the humans had begun hunting her, so I haven't seen her for quite some time.
If only our other friends from the other worlds on the other side of the Labyrinth would help... but even then... There's nothing Jo can do, I know, because she's already said so. It's not her world.
Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to tell you about my worries and this post is meant to be about me, but I can't help thinking of what will become of my friends. I apologise for bringing my worries with me.
You, my friends, have not heard of the Labyrinth before and here is not the place to explain, but I perhaps will get onto an expert and see if he can shed some light on the mysterious place few dare brave.
As for Lindsey and Lialla, I hope you readers will think and pray for them, because at the rate their world is going, it will be a wasteland long before the Eastern Kingdoms in my World reach the industrial age and Twylla's folk learn that aeronautics and space travel is not a myth.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Quilthills
Ok everyone, this post is by Arial Nretsew, currently stuck in Quilthills with her quirky Aunt Lucida and Uncle Bradley. In case you don't notice, see how many font types she'll mention.
I should make my own blog, but Jo tells me that keeping a blog up to date takes a lot of discipline. Anyway, the only internet out here in Quilthills belongs to the Harringtons. Because I'm new in town, they were nice enough to let me borrow the computer for a time, especially after Jo promised she'd come and have something to say to them in front of the rest of Quilthills if they didn't shift butt and be nice to me. By the way, the Harringtons are the richest family in Quilthills. After them, the next most snobbish are the Goudys. Jo sure does have a lot of power here. Most people are terrified of her - but I won't say much more, you probably already know a bit about her.
Anyway, yes, I'm stuck in Quilthills with Aunt Lucida and Uncle Bradley, while my parents are in Sheen-by-the-Sea, looking after Granny Sylfaen who's real sick - but only for the summer holidays. Aunt Lucida and Uncle Bradley are pretty cool. Their house is the oldest one in the area and is known as Minas Pele. Underneath it is a huuuuuge network of tunnels and caves that haven't been properly explored. Some parts of it are a bit dangerous, but by Uncle Bradley's estimation, the tunnels reach through most of Quilthills. Smuggler's tunnels? Escape tunnels? We're still trying to work it out.
The town innkeeper's son usually stays with my Aunt and Uncle, and is like a son to them. He doesn't much like the inn and his parents are more than happy to let him help Uncle Bradley out on the farm. Of course they'd rather he helped out at the inn, but they also just want him to be happy.
Sydnie's about my age, maybe a year older. He's an awesome singer, loves playing his flute and is a funny, shy sort of chap that seems to have picked up some quirks from my Aunt and Uncle. Like talking to the animals in such a way that they do exactly what he asks them, but then the animals here do seem to be a cut more intelligent than average. He and Uncle Bradley are a right old pair. Aunt Lucinda just laughs and says, 'boys will be boys'.
For a quiet little looking area, there's an awful lot of politics going on around here. So long the Goudys and Harringtons don't find out what we're up to under the hills, everything will be fine and we'll soon break their clandestine activities to the police with evidence; breaking their monopoly hold on the region.
Some of the nice things about Quilthills:
-Maiandra's (Sydnie's mum, wife of Rockwell, the innkeeper's) sugar cookies
- the Secret Valley with its strange broad leafed trees of the sweetest, juiciest rich orangey coloured fruit
- Aloe hill with its huge vegetable patch and aloe grove
- the animals (they're soooo smart!!!)
Funny how when you want to tell people about things, you can't remember when you actually get down to it. I'm sorry if my writing isn't that great. I'm still in school. Jo says that I ought to practice more, that's why I'm here.
Anyway, nice to have met you all.
I should make my own blog, but Jo tells me that keeping a blog up to date takes a lot of discipline. Anyway, the only internet out here in Quilthills belongs to the Harringtons. Because I'm new in town, they were nice enough to let me borrow the computer for a time, especially after Jo promised she'd come and have something to say to them in front of the rest of Quilthills if they didn't shift butt and be nice to me. By the way, the Harringtons are the richest family in Quilthills. After them, the next most snobbish are the Goudys. Jo sure does have a lot of power here. Most people are terrified of her - but I won't say much more, you probably already know a bit about her.
Anyway, yes, I'm stuck in Quilthills with Aunt Lucida and Uncle Bradley, while my parents are in Sheen-by-the-Sea, looking after Granny Sylfaen who's real sick - but only for the summer holidays. Aunt Lucida and Uncle Bradley are pretty cool. Their house is the oldest one in the area and is known as Minas Pele. Underneath it is a huuuuuge network of tunnels and caves that haven't been properly explored. Some parts of it are a bit dangerous, but by Uncle Bradley's estimation, the tunnels reach through most of Quilthills. Smuggler's tunnels? Escape tunnels? We're still trying to work it out.
The town innkeeper's son usually stays with my Aunt and Uncle, and is like a son to them. He doesn't much like the inn and his parents are more than happy to let him help Uncle Bradley out on the farm. Of course they'd rather he helped out at the inn, but they also just want him to be happy.
Sydnie's about my age, maybe a year older. He's an awesome singer, loves playing his flute and is a funny, shy sort of chap that seems to have picked up some quirks from my Aunt and Uncle. Like talking to the animals in such a way that they do exactly what he asks them, but then the animals here do seem to be a cut more intelligent than average. He and Uncle Bradley are a right old pair. Aunt Lucinda just laughs and says, 'boys will be boys'.
For a quiet little looking area, there's an awful lot of politics going on around here. So long the Goudys and Harringtons don't find out what we're up to under the hills, everything will be fine and we'll soon break their clandestine activities to the police with evidence; breaking their monopoly hold on the region.
Some of the nice things about Quilthills:
-Maiandra's (Sydnie's mum, wife of Rockwell, the innkeeper's) sugar cookies
- the Secret Valley with its strange broad leafed trees of the sweetest, juiciest rich orangey coloured fruit
- Aloe hill with its huge vegetable patch and aloe grove
- the animals (they're soooo smart!!!)
Funny how when you want to tell people about things, you can't remember when you actually get down to it. I'm sorry if my writing isn't that great. I'm still in school. Jo says that I ought to practice more, that's why I'm here.
Anyway, nice to have met you all.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Changes
I understand the emptiness. There will be changes here.
Previously, this blog was wholly for two characters.
Now it shall be for many more, but posted by the two.
I think that should make things easier. We shall see.
Previously, this blog was wholly for two characters.
Now it shall be for many more, but posted by the two.
I think that should make things easier. We shall see.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Citadel
Blood was its foundation. Blood was why it had been built and because of the blood was why it is my safe place. My stronghold.
Crystal are its walls, two hundred standards tall. Seamless are its stones. A thousand standards thick. No door.
The wall opens and closes at my demand and within them grows my garden. All the plants I love best. All the plants my true mother loved best, for it was she who had built the Citadel for me.
Her face is but a dream and her voice, like a breath of wind. It was so long ago. His face overshadows all, like a streaked nightmare. The Citadel is the safest place, where not even he can enter.
We had seen something he didn't want us to see. He hadn't even noticed me at that time. She had pulled me along with her; running, running until breath ragged in my throat and I could taste the metallic tang of blood. My heart beat so hard, I thought it would break me, but she wouldn't stop and dragged me along. Then she'd pushed me. Hard. So hard, I thought she was throwing me.
When I'd woken up, all I had seen was blood. Blood everywhere. Her blood.
Wandering, a kind farmer had taken me in. Clothed me, fed me, sheltered me. I grew up with his children and he made no distinction between us. At first. The farmer gave me more difficult chores because I would do them promptly. How well I truly did, I'm not sure. Sometimes, I would be away for days. Keeping sheep, mending posts, taking the animals to the Valley for summer. It kept me occupied. Made me forget that they had begun to shun me. Avoid me. Even the farmer began to look at me oddly.
One day, I came home from the Valley with the flock, only to find him waiting for me. The farmer's family had sold me to him. I ran, but could not hide. Fled, but didn't go far, because he was so much stronger than me. So much faster than me.
That is how I ended up deep underground. In a cell. Like a lab rat. He never even realised I was that child.
That is how when the tests first began, I found that I had an impenetrable Citadel. Founded in love, built upon blood.
I still have nightmares. I still dream that Maguiren is coming for me, waiting, even though I know he is no more. It was because I wanted to lay my darkest fears to rest that I had returned to the Eastern Kingdoms. Yet... the Dark Shadow still haunts the halls of my nights, prowling outside my Citadel walls. Somewhere. Waiting.
Crystal are its walls, two hundred standards tall. Seamless are its stones. A thousand standards thick. No door.
The wall opens and closes at my demand and within them grows my garden. All the plants I love best. All the plants my true mother loved best, for it was she who had built the Citadel for me.
Her face is but a dream and her voice, like a breath of wind. It was so long ago. His face overshadows all, like a streaked nightmare. The Citadel is the safest place, where not even he can enter.
We had seen something he didn't want us to see. He hadn't even noticed me at that time. She had pulled me along with her; running, running until breath ragged in my throat and I could taste the metallic tang of blood. My heart beat so hard, I thought it would break me, but she wouldn't stop and dragged me along. Then she'd pushed me. Hard. So hard, I thought she was throwing me.
When I'd woken up, all I had seen was blood. Blood everywhere. Her blood.
Wandering, a kind farmer had taken me in. Clothed me, fed me, sheltered me. I grew up with his children and he made no distinction between us. At first. The farmer gave me more difficult chores because I would do them promptly. How well I truly did, I'm not sure. Sometimes, I would be away for days. Keeping sheep, mending posts, taking the animals to the Valley for summer. It kept me occupied. Made me forget that they had begun to shun me. Avoid me. Even the farmer began to look at me oddly.
One day, I came home from the Valley with the flock, only to find him waiting for me. The farmer's family had sold me to him. I ran, but could not hide. Fled, but didn't go far, because he was so much stronger than me. So much faster than me.
That is how I ended up deep underground. In a cell. Like a lab rat. He never even realised I was that child.
That is how when the tests first began, I found that I had an impenetrable Citadel. Founded in love, built upon blood.
I still have nightmares. I still dream that Maguiren is coming for me, waiting, even though I know he is no more. It was because I wanted to lay my darkest fears to rest that I had returned to the Eastern Kingdoms. Yet... the Dark Shadow still haunts the halls of my nights, prowling outside my Citadel walls. Somewhere. Waiting.
Friday, January 8, 2010
about time
About time, Twylla! I thought you'd never get round to it. Maybe my subtle hints were too subtle for you? Joking, joking, but now that you've posted, I have to do something.
Unlike Twylla, I tend to be much more private, so I don't tell you everything about myself. Instead, I thought you might like to hear about the town of Raggedge today.
Raggedge is a small town with a population of maybe 800 people, situated at the base of one of the mountains of the Dividing Range, at the very western border of Inageam, within the Eastern Kingdoms. The town seldom gets any visitors, so if you ever decide to see the quaint little place, expect to be treated something like a VIP or a celebrity. The whole town will turn out to greet you and you will be invited to at least half the homes to have a drink of Raggrovage and have a bite of Raggrove-flavoured waffles.
This town is well known for an interesting thick green coloured beverage known as Raggrovage, after the wiry herb, Raggrove, usually found in this area. The plant has thick little leaves that is often used as an all-round cure medicinal plant or as a te. Raggrovage is usually drunk warm, sprinkled with wisps of a special herb (they refused to tell me the name of) that considerably sweetens this otherwise strong thick bitter drink. The locals tend to prefer to call it a tonic. Its taste is not unlike that of very strong green tea, mixed with a sprinkling of a variety of other things. I think it tastes much better when mixed with milk or cream, but each household makes it differently.
Raggrovage is an aquired taste that few people who grew up outside the town learn to appreciate. I don't mind it. It's certainly a good hot drink that warms you up on a bitterly cold day and the reception that comes with it is nice, especially if you've spent the last few weeks scrambling around the mountains.
The people of Raggedge rear goats, turkeys, geese, chickens, ducks and the occassional cow if they manage to get their hands on one. They make some awesome vegetable dishes - usually due to the seasoning they use and their spicy meat stew is something I wish other towns would learn from them.
Anyone have any questions about the town?
Unlike Twylla, I tend to be much more private, so I don't tell you everything about myself. Instead, I thought you might like to hear about the town of Raggedge today.
Raggedge is a small town with a population of maybe 800 people, situated at the base of one of the mountains of the Dividing Range, at the very western border of Inageam, within the Eastern Kingdoms. The town seldom gets any visitors, so if you ever decide to see the quaint little place, expect to be treated something like a VIP or a celebrity. The whole town will turn out to greet you and you will be invited to at least half the homes to have a drink of Raggrovage and have a bite of Raggrove-flavoured waffles.
This town is well known for an interesting thick green coloured beverage known as Raggrovage, after the wiry herb, Raggrove, usually found in this area. The plant has thick little leaves that is often used as an all-round cure medicinal plant or as a te. Raggrovage is usually drunk warm, sprinkled with wisps of a special herb (they refused to tell me the name of) that considerably sweetens this otherwise strong thick bitter drink. The locals tend to prefer to call it a tonic. Its taste is not unlike that of very strong green tea, mixed with a sprinkling of a variety of other things. I think it tastes much better when mixed with milk or cream, but each household makes it differently.
Raggrovage is an aquired taste that few people who grew up outside the town learn to appreciate. I don't mind it. It's certainly a good hot drink that warms you up on a bitterly cold day and the reception that comes with it is nice, especially if you've spent the last few weeks scrambling around the mountains.
The people of Raggedge rear goats, turkeys, geese, chickens, ducks and the occassional cow if they manage to get their hands on one. They make some awesome vegetable dishes - usually due to the seasoning they use and their spicy meat stew is something I wish other towns would learn from them.
Anyone have any questions about the town?
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