Archive for September, 2014

Highborn Journal – 4 Root (ep 15)

Winds rushed over the basin creating an eerie howling sound, a little sand was raining down into the densely packed garden like hail. Most of the windows had been closed with shutters as Whlana stood in the basin watching the spectacle. “I was sent to bring you and your leader to the elders for a briefing on the matter of your mission.” Bakir grumbled, he had emerged from the cave that the desert wraith had covered with large planes of cloth in order to protect the water from getting polluted with sand. Although little wind reached the bottom of the basins they were fluttering violently. “You found me, let us depart.” Whlana cooperated with him without regard to his demeanor.

“I can’t find your friend.” he replied, almost choking on the word friend. Astonished Whlana raised one eyebrow. Krajani was one of a handful eastern Albin, the desert wraith were mostly dark skinned people. A fair skinned blonde Albin stuck out like a sore thumb, she couldn’t have vanished in Whlanas opinion. Returning to her room with Bakir at her side, she was surprised to not finding her there. “I have a concerning hunch.” she whispered glancing over the strewn out items in the room.

“She is out there?” Qualams voice was high pitched, an indefinable smirk played amongst Bakirs lips. “Guards at the entrance haven’t seen her,” Whlana stepped up in front of the assembly of elders since Bakir smirked. “but she has the powers of turning invisible, at least for some time.” Whlana had observed the power of invisibility amongst eastern Albin weavers, teaching it to western weavers, but the eastern weavers had perfected it. Although unfamiliar with weavery Whlana had heard that it was taking its toll on the weaver, even before weavery disappeared. “She is nowhere to be found in Babd-ael-Drakh.” Bakir woke from his smirking thoughts. Qualam wandered up and down the large semicircular hall, other elders were present, but the full assembly had dissolved after news of Krajanis disappearance had reached them. His steps echoed from the smooth walls and ceiling. After a few moments of marching up and down he returned to Bakir and Whlana. “It is too dangerous to send you,” he pointed at Whlana, his head however slowly turned to Bakir who lost his smirk. “but you on the other hand are a desert wraith, you can go and rescue her.” Bakir wanted to protest, not only had the Albin informed the wraith of the vanished magic in the world outside Babd-ael-Drakh, the desert wraith had noticed as well, and the direction Krajani would probably have embarked in, in order to find roots of the sandtree, he would soon leave the range of Babd-ael-Drakhs magic. “Take this.” Qualam put two small round pebbles in Bakirs hand. “One of these gems is yours, the other is a gift for Krajani, if you do not deliver it to her when you find her, I will personally teach you some sense of duty.” Bakir stared at the two thumb-sized pebbles in his hand. Again he wanted to protest but Qualams stare silenced his words before they left his mouth or even formed in his mind. Begrudgingly he marched off leaving Whlana baffled at the events that had occured before her eyes. Certain that Qualam would explan Bakir left the council hall the elders used to assemble, or greet guests in. Through a long soft slope carved out of the rock ge marched past rooms that were bigger than the council hall, filled with all the knowledge the desert wraith had accumulated. At the bittom of the basin he quickly crossed the lush gardens and shallow ponds, to reach the cave. Above the storm still raged on covering the plants and paths with dusty sand. On his way he wrapped a cloth around his face, after he had wettened it with fresh water.The guards were reluctant to let Bakir pass into the storm, but stepped aside after hearing of his assignment. Furious that he had been sent to find a foolish woodland woman that had intentionally wandered into a sandstorm Bakir felt empowered with his rage. Still he reached for the water supply he had taken with him every few minutes to reassure himself it was still present. Although fierce winds tore on his clothes and little exposed skin, Bakir fought against the wind keeping south. Since the storm left no grain of sand unturned he couldn’t find and follow any tracks, he just hoped that the Albin was marching south and didn’t get lost along the way. Cursing her for quasi leading him out into the sandstorm Bakir felt a weird sensation after a while. For a moment the ethereal that made his wizardry possible seemed to vanish, but in the very next moment it replenished from inside his leather pouch.

Life ain’t that hard: Fashion

If you’re one of the eye cancer ridden bastards who runs around buying shit from Paris and Milan, a blind sailor wouldn’t put on his dead gay uncle, now used as scarecrow, then you deserve to die of bankruptcy.
But this isn’t why I’m writing this.

I will jot make a distinction between male and female fashion, that would be below my standards.
So, you want to have something fashionable to wear in public, here’s the rules:

1. Decency. Above all else, decency. Not too tight, not too short, not too see-through. Decent.
2. Affordability. No brands that deliver nothing but a name, no cloth that delivers nothing but a legend. Decent, affordable.
3. Appealing.
3.a. If it is revolting/a potato-sack/worn-looking/camouflage/animalskin print, don’t. Just don’t. I will find you, and I will hurt you.
3.b. Avoid colors they use in hi-viz jackets, post-it notes and markers/highlighters.
3.c. No paintings on your clothing! Nor any other form of weirdness. No printed out photos that have been transformed into a fullblown tragedy in the shape of pants! No vomit stain Hardy, no cat-space-dolphin-jesus picture hoodies/underpants/whatever.
(Allowed are: logos, bandshirts, and the likes)
4. Matching. I guess this goes without saying. Pink sneakers (see 3.b.) green linen pants (3.a.) and a sweater with a cat staring at the orion nebula (3.c.) don’t go together. Nor do red heels, with a beige skirt and a black blouse. Matching colors. If you’re colourblind, go with black. Decent, affordable, appealing, matching colors.
5. No trends! If you follow a certain trend/fashion/style you deserve your empty wallets. If you have to dress a certain way to fit in with your peers, your peers are obviously as shallow as the muddy quagmire your social group just emerged from.
Decent, affordable, appealing, matching colored, individual.
6. Accessoires. Holy shit! Be subtle, don’t decorate yourself like a Christmas tree, or an Indian bride on her wedding day. Subtle, people. Look it up if you’re unfamiliar with the word.
Decent, affordable, appealing, matching colored, individual, subtle.
7. Footwear. Keep to the guidelines so far, and add that if you want eccentric, or uber-sexy shoes – don’t. High heels, weird boots and the likes belong in the bedroom, or wherever you choose to copulate.
Flipflops belong to the beach or the bath. Sandals belong in the trash, but if you must – leave the socks!

That would be all, this is just a rough guideline, no specifics, nothing gender specific either. There is something that needs to be said to the women folk out there, however:
8. If you wear a T-Shirt that spans text over your bosom, don’t be offended if people (men in particular) are looking there (presumably reading).

Alright. Now, I’m done.
I hope you find this list useful, and are carrying it with you on your next shopping tour, and before I leave you with this, theres a final item on this list:
9. If your shopping experience takes up more than 3 hours for 6 different stores, you’re doing it wrong. Return all items and start over!

Highborn Journal – 4 Root (ep 14)

North of the main basin ran a small river through the rock, it joined later the big cave that connected with the other basins, the cave it flowed out from was a narrow hole in the rock that no one could hope to brave without drowning. To Krajani it was just a minor detail on the side, she had been sent out into the desert to find the roots of the sandtree, not the desert people. “They sent me.” Bakirs voice woke Krajani from her inner monologue, she wanted to leave if the wraith couldn’t help. “They say that in two days time the sandstorm will have calmed and I should accompany you to the south.” his words seemed forced. “Your people can’t tell the weather, can they?” her voice was stingy as she addressed him without looking. “The sky is clear and blue, desert sand man.”

“For a forest woman that knows nothing of the desert you are a mouthful, watch it grow dark.” he hissed ready to walk away he turned. “They told me however that in a rockfield south of here, there might be what you seek. We will see then who’s the inferior in the desert.”

Krajani kept staring at him as he walked away, in her belly she felt her anger manifesting into a hardened knot.

Long after he had vanished into the large cave to the other basins she marched, still aggravated, to the room she had to bunk in with Whlana. Glad at finding the room empty she quickly gathered some of her belongings and some water before leaving again.

Highborn Journal – 4 Root (ep 13)

“As you no doubt have gathered already, we as a society are xenophobic, so you are limited to this basin.” the der who had introduced himself as Qualam told both Krajani and Whlana. To his surprise it was the latter that spoke with him, instead of Krajani who had made it clear that she was the leader of the visitors. “She is as Xenophobic as Bakir.” Whlana had not only lowered her voice but whispered after she had noticed the surprise in his dark brown, alnost black eyes.

With a hinted smirk Qualam nodded. “You may go to the river, but only extract which you need to drink, the time and place to wash is not where you can go, nor is it today.” he bowed slightly before leaving the two in the room.

It was a luxurious room that had been carved out of the rock, as have all the other rooms in the basin, not a single building had been erected. In neighboring rooms the rest of the expedition had been accommodated.

Krajani leaned at the wibdow that looked out into the basin. They were twenty to thirty meters above the basin ground, outside the door ob the opposite wall was a long hallway that led to the ground and further up as well as to the other rooms. “Thank you for talking with him.” Krajani mumbled watching mornings grey light flood into the basin.

“Remember that charming young lad we met earlier in the desert?” Whlana sighed, resignation took a hold of her, she seemed to be stuck with Krajani in that room. “You are just like him.” she continued after Krajani had made a noise that sounded like a muffled confirmation. Enraged Krajani stormed from the window, but the calm and yet cold look upon Whlanas face slowed her down, eventually stopped her. “You are crazy.” she hissed turning away, facing he window. In order to flee any further conversation she formed a wall around herself that the word of the western Albin wouldn’t be able to breach.

Life ain’t that hard: Selfie-sh

This selfie craze is getting out of hand.

I know that you younger folks have a disconnected feeling of self, and thus are, oddly enough, self obsessed. But walking down a street, like I witnessed with mine own eyes (!), making faces like spastic attacks, while having one arm extended with the cellphone/camera isn’t helping your selfrecognition.
It’s helping you find the fastest way to the nearest doctor. And I ain’t talking “Doctor Who” here. Long story short:

Stop taking Selfies!

You want nice pictures of yourselves? Here’s a short simple guide:
1. Take people with you!
2. Go to nice (/exotic/weird/”cool”/alloftheabove) locations
3. Take pictures of one another!
4. Don’t pose, don’t act. Just be.
5. Minimalistic brush up. (Close to no photoshop)
6. If you must, ask either a stranger, or use the timer and a stand to take a selfie, no holding of the camera/cellphone or use of mirror/trans-dimensional-portal.

Take this as advice from someone who managed to evade pictures/photos/cameras from ages 14-20…

Highborn Journal – 4 Root (ep 12)

Turning to the guests the elder let go of Bakirs shoulder. “Sadly we cannot tell you where to find the roots or lead you, as we do not know with certainty, but we can aid you in your objective.”

Bakir raised his head, anger in his eyes. “They are outsiders!” he hissed stepping at the side of the elder who looked harshly to the young man. “A sandstorm will be coming soon, they won’t survive without our aid.”

Bakir looked from the elder to the Albin. “They are here by choice. The knew of the risks!”

“And the fate of the world might depend on their survival!” the elders booming voice echoed in the distance, for a moment the desert turned silent while the echoes calmed away. Even the distant noise of the lovestruck desert giants ceased for a moment. Like the pupil Bakir lowered his eyes again. “Yes master.” although he was whimpering in a low tone there was a hint of grudge in his voice. “Good.” the elder turned to the guests and smiled, waving them towards Babd-ael-Drakh he marched towards the cavern.

As they passed by Bakir Krajani stopped. “There is slim hope for your kind, but you seem to be stuck in backwards ways.”

The cavern led through black rock into a large basin that was almost perfectly circular, ground level inside the basin was more than a hundred meters below the surrounding desert. “There are several of these Drakh as we call them, all connected by the large cave.” Krajani looked to the sky that was visible above the basin, the entrance to Babd-ael-Drakh was roughly in the same direction as the gap to the Bloodshiredelta. Immediately she pondered whether in ancient times the river had flowed all the way to the basins, through the cavern opening into the rock, eroding it until the basins formed.

Highborn Journal – 4 Root (ep 11)

Whlana trotted a few steps behind Krajani, she was a bit satisfied that the man they had encountered was as charming and warm as Krajani, and these two had to put up with one another. She heard the voices of the other Albin behind her, mumbling. Although she couldn’t make out the words she could extract from the tone of their voices that they too were rather amused, although concerned.

Keeping a respectful distance Whlana observed the mysterious stranger and Krajani walk at the head of the expedition in complete silence. From time to time one of them threw a judging glance at the other. “Why are your people so distrustful of strangers who are not affiliated with the circle from whom you secluded yourselves?” Krajanis tone was stingy as she loojed up ahead with a proud expression. “We distrust anyone who is not a child of the sands or incapable of wizardry. Your lush environment has made you soft and weak, you lack strength.” Krajani made a disgruntled noise at his remarks. “You humans are have no true strength, needing rest every night, we have hardly rested since we entered this desert.”

Again both kept silent for a while. In tbe distance a range of rocks rose out of the desert against mornings silverlining at the horizon.

“I Bakir, son of Rafik, bring you these strangers!” the young man stood in front of a group of men in similar attire. After the expedition had reached the ridge he had hollered for the elders to assemble. From a cavern the men had emerged together with a dozen of curious other men, women and children. “They claim to seek the root of the sandtree!” a mumbling wave went through the group of elders. Krajani looked through the entirity of assembled. As far as she could tell, all of them were magic users. She didn’t want to know what happened with children who were born without the gift, but it also occurred to her that they might not have that sort of problem, since the ridge seemed to have the same propperties as the pyramid on Naga’na.

“What is their business with the sandtree root?” one of the elders spoke to Bakir, feeling belittled Krajani stepped up, explaining that they were sent to secure the root as the Sphinxes were returning.

Again mumbling arose amongst the elders, partly due to the explanation, mostly because they were unaccustomed to a woman speaking to them.

An outsider on top of that!

“You desert people can’t be seriously that narrow minded! The fate of our world, inckuding your refuge, depends on the root being found and combined with the burning eye to combat these creatures, and you are seriously insulted because a stranger, a female stranger speaks to you?” Bakir stared at Krajani with disgust and anger.

“Be silent!” he hissed through his teeth.

“Bakir!” an elder had stepped towards the young man. “These strangers are unfamiliar to our customs.” The man with the long grey beard had kind eyes, that looked at the young man with patience. Nodding, as a pupil nods to his teacher, Bakir calmed himself.