Blog Archive

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Good New, Everybody!

You just read that in the professor's voice. And for the tiny handful of you who follow my blog, I'm not dead! I just forgot about the blog, is all.

I'll be back to some degree, probably posting new music and sprites.

First of all, a new song from Jon Fratelli, former lead singer of The Fratellis.

Second off, my wulves. Wolf sprite avatars for Kongregate. Here's a small list of wulves I've made, along with who they were made of (This list may be slightly outdated)
Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

A Tidbit of Story

Just a little scrap of a story I began to write during a dead spot in my creativity. Enjoy.

A loud horn blasted, sounding both distant and close. Despite it's ear-shattering volume, Xaphan ignored it and continued to sleep. A few seconds later, it sounded again, slightly louder. Every few seconds it blasted again, louder and louder with each repetition. After half a dozen times, the Hellguard got tired of it and awoke.
“Dammit. Enough already! I'm coming!” Xaphan shouted and a gruff voice at the ceiling of his small room. The walls, floors, and ceilings of every room in the underworld were all the same. Glowing, reddish-orange cave-like stone, that seemed to ooze from thin air and hardened into these small living places.
Xaphan began walking towards a solid wall. He pictured the room he was destined for in his mind's eye, snapped his fingers, and burst into flames mid-stride. He appeared a second later in Death's throne room. He continued to walk until he was face to face with the Reaper.
“What in Hell is so damned important that you had to wake me up?” snapped the Hellguard. Death's look said irritated, despite being a large robed skeleton. He interlocked his fingers and spoke in a dark, raspy voice. “Orias has escaped again. I thought you'd be aware of this issue.”
“Dammit!” Xaphan shouted, “How the hell did he ever escape in the first place? The old man would lose in a footrace with a sloth.”
“Orias is a powerful necromancer, he finds his way around.” Mumbled Death's new assistant, Jerith. He was a mortal soul, but a smart one. He wore a hoodie, jeans, sandals, and glasses. Most humans were forced to keep the clothes that they died in.
Xaphan grabbed him by the collar. “Death's last errand dog pissed me off. We still don't know where all of him is. I'd watch myself if I were you.”
Jerith pushed away and adjusted his glasses. “Whatever.”
Xaphan returned to his room and approached the rack that held his armor. Black, lightweight steel plates that covered almost all of his body. The left pauldron had a blood red cape attached, mostly for aesthetic purposes. Xaphan slipped it all on and grabbed his bastard sword. “I'm getting tired of this.” He mumbled.
Most souls that escaped the Underworld would return to the site in which their corpse rested, Orias' cemetery crypt was all too familiar to Xaphan. He had difficulty traveling there the first few times, the mortal world was always a bitch to navigate through, but now it was becoming second nature.
Instead of bursting forth into the mortal world in a display of flame and awe, Xaphan ripped himself from the soft dirt of a cemetery, like the zombies of human fables. He brushed the soil from his armor and looked around. Not much had changed, a few decayed gravestones, a lot more than his last trip, and a wrought iron fence bordered the property. A cobblestone path wound from gate to gate and lead up to a large church.
At the church doors stood an old, decrepit man. His skin was ancient and sagging, his robes tattered and worn, his hair was white, thinning, and unkempt, and he bore a scowl of discontent on his face. Xaphan approached him and spoke, “Orias. You look as ancient and decayed as ever. I thought you learned your lesson the last time I beat your corpse back into hell.”
“I am far from learning my lesson, Hellguard.” Orias' voice was strong, despite his age.
“And they say that old folk are wise. I'd appreciate it if you just give yourself up and allow me to return to my sleep.”
“Sorry, but I have better plans in mind.”
Xaphan needed little more than that. He raised his blade and lunged at the old necromancer. His blade was mere feet from it's target when a massive heavy object dropped down in front of Xaphan, narrowly missing him and propelling him backwards. He quickly recomposed himself and inspected the new annoyance.
It appeared to be a massive stone gargoyle. A stone, four legged, winged demon statue. A blue mist-like essence flowed from it's eyes and mouth, and it moved with the fluid motion of a living creature. It stood on it's hind legs and beat it's large stone wings, making the sound of stone grinding against stone. Despite it's weight, it began to hover. Soon a twin statue dropped from the roof of the building. This one kept it's place on the ground.
“I have discovered the ability to bind lost souls to inanimate objects,” Orias explained, “I'm sure that my new pets will be more than a challenge for you. Have fun.” With that, he slowly walked through the church's large double doors. They slammed shut behind him and a mist-like barrier formed over them.
As soon as the colossal doors shut the gargoyles charged. The airborne one swooped in for Xaphan's head while the grounded one went for his legs. He tumbled to the side, narrowly avoiding the talons and jaws of both. However, the grounded gargoyle's wings caught him in the gut and knocked him back several yards. Stone statues could put quite a bit of power behind their attacks with enough momentum, it seemed.
Xaphan quickly got up and faced the beasts. They had already begun their next charge, Xaphan charged in too. He swung his sword with all of his might, and connected with the right wing joint of the grounded creature. The blade sliced though the stone, but just barely made it's way through. The gargoyle let out a demonic roar, and veered off to the left. Before Xaphan had time to react, though, his second foe landed a solid blow on the side of his head with it's claws, spinning him around and knocking him face down in the dirt.
A cold, heavy paw pushed down on Xaphan's back. He tried with all his might to raise himself but the weight was just too great. He began to mumble an incantation in a demonic tongue, once it was complete two large, red, demonic horns burst from Xaphan's temples. He jerked his head back and felt the tips connect with the gargoyle, stabbing into it's face and sending it rampaging back in a fit of pain and rage.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

I'm Late, I'm Late, For a Very Important Update

I do realize I haven't posts so much as a breathe in a while, school and a few personal affairs have kept me occupied, so I'll dump a few things on you now.

First of all, music! A bit of Alternative Rock from good ol' Europe. This particular song by The Fratellis called Baby Fratelli uses clips from the movie Hot Fuzz (which I desperately want to see) in the video, so enjoy! ^_^

Next up is a bit of music I composed. Nothing much, but I was playing with a composing program earlier and this came out of it.

And last but not least, I'm engaged! So yes. This blog will not be updated very much due to some marital duties >.>

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

My Philosophy

I have a philosophy in life. That is that everything has purpose behind it. Everything that is said, everything that is thought, everything that is done, all have purpose. I will go in depth with this now, and see just how sick of the word purpose you are by the end of it.
Everything has purpose. It may not be a good purpose, it may not be a clear purpose, but it is purpose. Now naturally, I have defied this before. You know those little random thoughts that seem to have no purpose? Those have a purpose. I believe that purpose is to scare us. Deep down, we all have a psychological need for purpose, and when we don't get that, we're scared of that which is purposeless. It may not be clear, but it's true. Though what if there was something that had no purpose? Well we'd all be screwed. That purposeless thing would more than likely be or inspire a thought. We think to do everything. Sometimes not very much, but we think nonetheless, so if there was no purpose behind a thought, there would be no purpose behind saying or doing something, so everything must have purpose, or else we'd have a nervous breakdown and kill ourselves.
I have gone over this many times in my head, and I believe I can find the purpose to everything. I already know the purpose of our existence in the world, and I will share that with you now. Our purpose is purpose. Giving purpose to having purpose is our purpose. We've been over complicating things, our purpose is purpose, plain and simple.
Are you sick of the word purpose yet? if not, purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose purpose. Are you yet? If not, just keep reading the past three lines. You will be. Now, I must quit typing because I've said purpose so many times that the word is loosing meaning to me, so I will continue this at a later date.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Chapter 2 is Here


Darian, after his long, sleepless night, made his way to the mess hall. Breakfast had stopped being served an hour before he got up, but he could still grab some coffee to awaken himself. The encampment that had been called home by many for many years was similar to other encampments. A few tents surrounded by a chain link fence. Thought in the year spent here, a platoon of feet had walked similar paths, and roads lead from one tent to another.

Upon entering the mess hall, Darian noticed three young privates were the only ones in there. One of them looked up at him, and his face almost lit up in joy.

The boy was average height, with almost pale skin, considering that they were in the desert. He seemed eager to meet Darian. Once he made his way to Darian, he stood at attention. "Private Nichols reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease, private," Nichols lowered his hand, but he still stood erect, "Now, what is with the formalities?"

Nichols look confused. "Sir, weren't you told? You're leading us on our mission."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, that's right. Forgive me, I was never told who my team was. Alright, well, I think the best thing to do first would be to meet the others and learn their specialties."

"Right away, sir!" Nichols lead me to the others. One was a large, burly black man. The other a small man with glasses, who was playing with a combat knife. "These are privates Johnson," he gestured towards the black man, "and Altec." and gestured towards the bespectacled boy.

"'Sup," said Johnson. Altec just mumbled something that sounded like a "'Lo"

"Lively bunch, aren't we?" Darian joked, aiming it at Altec.

"Don't doubt him," Nichols whispered into his ear, "He may look like a slacker, but he's a tactical genius, and I've never seen someone handle a knife like him."

Darian nodded at this, then turned towards Johnson. "So, what are your specialties?"

"'Splosives, mostly. But I'm good at crackin' heads too, if that's what you mean."

"Mhmm... And what about you, Nichols?"

Nichols perked up, "Me? Oh, I'm just a sniper. A sniper that graduated top of his class. You know, nothing special."

"Yes, well, once you men are ready, we'll..."

"Uh, sir," Nichols interrupted, "Not meaning to interrupt, or anything, but we've been ready for hours. We're waiting on you."

The surprised look on Darian's face was no where near enough to express his astonishment at how late he had slept, but he accepted this nonetheless. "Oh, alright then. Well, let's move out.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

An Online Story

I figure since my current novel is unavailable to anyone not within direct contact with me, I should at least deliver those who cannot read it some sort of entertainment. And, to do so, I will begin writing my own Online Story. It is quite different from what I am currently writing, or anything that I have ever written, but hopefully you will enjoy it.


Your protagonist. Enjoy his sight, for you will see it often.

A young Officer from the tiny village of Albanar, Darian Wulf is a natural born killer. He has proven himself a vital in this war within the short years that he has been active. Though he not only has authority to, but has proven his capability, Darian prefers not to command large regiments, but instead small specialized teams. This time around, he will be getting that chance.

"Yes, come in." General Sparks replied to the knocking at his office door. Darian entered and saluted his superior. "At ease, Officer Wulf. Sit down, how may I help you?"

Darian hesitated at first, then spoke. "Sir, I've heard rumors circulating the camp. That you are sending a small team to sabotage the enemy encampment."

The general, a large man, who ,despite his age, was quite in shape and much physically stronger than many of the troops, folded his hands together. "And if I were? What would this mean to you?"

"Well, sir, You've seen my work. How well I can accomplish missions with but a handful of men. Please, let me lead these troops on the mission. I will not fail you."

Sparks sat for a moment, running over details in his head, and deciding on whether or not he should send the boy. Finally, he answered. "I don't think your talents would be needed on this mission. But, I suppose I've kept you cooped up in this camp for long enough. Very well, Wulf, I will allow you to lead these men, but on one condition."

"What would that be, sir?" Darian sat forward in his chair.

"You must bring each of these men back alive. They are the best that I have of their rank, and a loss of any of them will mean the gallows. Do you understand?"

Darian swallowed. Is this really worth the possibility of dieing over? He thought to himself. He hesitated a moment. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good, now get some rest. You ship out tomorrow, and I have no intentions of sending you out on a journey such as this with no energy whatsoever. You are excused."

At that, Darian left. Later that night, he would get no sleep. Not from finally being sent on a mission after six months, but because the image of the rope around his neck, and the executioner's hand on the lever which would haunt him for the next several months.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

It's Music Time

I've decided to bring more music to my blog. The video for this one isn't as impressive as the last, but it's still a good song. Enjoy!

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Information: Necromancers

I feel that it is my duty to share the knowledge that I have collected with anyone willing to learn it. So, I will post Information as I see fit. This first post will be on Necromancers.

Necromancer Lv. 5
A small Necromancer sprite with his small sprite minions (From top left to bottom right) Undead Dragon, Imp, Skeleton Hero (Cape is hard to see) Skeleton. (Image made by Myself)

Necromancers are part of the Darker side of the magical world. Though while associated with evil, their intent is not always so. Necromancers rarely enter combat directly, but instead send their undead and demonic minions to do their bidding. Common minions are skeletons (both human and other), demon avatars (imps, for example) other kinds of risen corpses (zombies, ghouls, etc.) and the immaterial dead (ghost, spirits, phantoms, poltergeists, whatever you like to call them). They also speak to the dead, making them a sort of spiritual median, which can earn them a bit of money.

That which I have told you thus far is general knowledge. What's next is my own little beliefs on necromancy's practice.(In other words, this may not be the way others see them, but the way I see them)

A necromancer's power is determined by the number of minions he/she can control. Rising a corpse or spirit is one thing, keeping it up, walking, and in control is another entirely. Many factors come into play, such as:

  • What is being risen. Something small (like a dog) will be easier to control than something large(like a Dragon)
  • The mental capacity of said Necromancer. A sane, concentrated necromancer will have an easier time controlling their minions if they can concentrate on the task at hand.
  • The condition of the corpse. If something is beaten up and falling apart, it won't want to move and react as swiftly and smoothly than a well preserved corpse. (and this goes for spirits and their sanity, too)
  • Interference. If another, more powerful Necromancer tries to control something under a weaker Necromancer's control, the more powerful of the two will win.
  • Other minions. As minions are risen, they will require a certain amount of concentration to control (see bullets 1 and 2). If a Necromancer's concentration is split between several corpses, they will not be as obedient as the controller will want them to be.

When control of a risen undead is lost (completely, not taken by another necromancer) said risen will not keep it's new found life, it will simply collapse, or in a spirit's case, disappear. This can be useful, though, as abominations (pieced together corpses, such as Frankenstein Monster) can be salvaged by the lucky necromancer who finds it. This can also be used to store creations that the necromancer wants to save for later.

One last note, I often find it a nice idea for the magical users of a world to try and conceal their identities, yet also practicing their talents, by taking up jobs similar to their craft. So, it is obvious that a Necromancer's job of choice would be a Graveyard's overseer. Corpses aplenty, and only a few people visiting at a time. It's perfect.
I hope you've found this useful (or at least interesting). Until next time.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Bit o' Music

Thought I'd try to put a bit of music in this blog. So, what better way to start off, than with an ass kicking video? This one happens to be OKGO's Rube Goldberg video for "This Too Shall Pass", which in the past two months, has racked up over 12.5 million views. Enjoy!

Story Starter

I've decided to begin a story despite the lack of votes. I will, however, create stories that go along the other choices in the poll and pay the most attention to the one with the highest number of votes.

The story that I've begun goes along the futuristic war guideline, and is coming along nicely. I'll tell you more when I get further.