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| Blessed be Puhilsgar - Story Topic | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Saturday 15-08-2009, 08:23 (320 Views) | |
| cscs | Saturday 15-08-2009, 08:23 Post #1 |
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Novelist Wannabe
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It was a fine morning. To the residence on the hill, a beautiful scenery of Puhilsgar revealed itself. The villagers had just woken up, and are preparing for the day's work - or taking a leisurely morning stroll. Garisa Drizzle sat on an elaborately carved marble table perched at the residence's balcony, taking in the view between sips of his favorite mushroom tea. The morning was especially cold and misty, and he found himself rubbing his enormous palms a few times. Garisa has an especially huge build for a person, but hates to use it for violence. He always jokingly attributed his large figure to the fairies that visited him at night with a lot food when he was a child, although he knew better. The real reason for his huge build would be his joining into the army decades ago. Many things had passed, he amused himself with the thought. He now finds himself leading the Merchant's Guild, and keeping good relations with surrounding cities in terms of trade and wealth. When trade was low, he will visit the local producers and artisans, checking their goods' quality, or simply exchanging words and news. During harvest season, especially the bountiful ones, he would go to the local army stables to borrow their lively horses so that his merchants can send more goods. Not forgetting his cooperation with the Carpenter's Guild in creating better trading carts, he smiled. He was a happy person. He had power to the fiefdom's flow of riches, although that is not the reason for his happiness. Rather, he receives each day with open arms, and enjoys each of them. He was content that Puhilsgar was developing at the rate it does now, especially in terms of trade. Recently, though, the Baroness Lorelei, with whom he had a so-so relationship, passed away. He went for the funeral, and saw the nine-year-old heir to the fiefdom crying continuously by the coffin. While it was rather heartbreaking, by Garisa's standard, he thought more about the fiefdom's future. The lack of a power figure. It would be devastating. Thankfully, the Baroness left a will before she passed away, describing how the fiefdom will be led after her death. She had formed a Council of Ministers, which will create decisions until the heir is able to take over. Which will be when the heir turns seventeen. Eight years of status quo. It will be chaos. Garisa sighed heavily, thinking of how things will work from now on. It was only fortunate that he was to be inside the council, as how the Baroness stated in her will. That way, he would be able to nudge decisions towards balance and peace, although he had known no peace without a definite ruler. Poor late Baroness Lorelei. Poor heir-whose-name-he-forgot. Poor Puhilsgar. He would have to work doubly hard from now on, for peace and progress. He finished his now-cold cup of mushroom tea. |
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How can you love others when you don't love yourself? For the world is fun because you are the main character in it. StoryTales ~A Place Where All Tales Belong | |
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| Jeruk | Monday 17-08-2009, 15:58 Post #2 |
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Reddish Yellow
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These people were just ignorant. They believed that the harvests were bountiful. The land was fertile. The river provided irrigation. The Empire was willing to buy their crops for an agreeable price. Everything was in order, and all's good with this world. How wrong they were. There would always be competition; if not from other counties and fiefdom in Puhilsgar, then from Parsee. There would always be crop failure, lurking behind a corner somewhere; locust swarm, blight, you name it, nature had it. There would always be unprecedented population growth, and food would be - was never - enough. No one would listen to him. Those in the Farmer's Guild did not feel the urgency, those from other occupation dismissed his ideas, those from the nobility believed that he was in the wrong. And then, there's the Baroness. She would laugh at him, praising him for being cautious, but never took any of his well-proposed plan. But now, things would change. The people must have seen the sign, as they picked him as the head of the Farmer's Guild. The signs of instability, of turmoil, of unrest, of chaos. They finally realized that the world was large, and everything was out to get them. Finally, they began to see things correctly. At last. Marzaiu Malleus finished writing in his journal. The morning sunlight was mostly blocked by the curtains, but he didn't mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to, and he was prepared. He put the leather-bound journal on his shelf, and put over a cloak over his lean frame. He would go oversee the farms once again, just to be sure. And then, he would make everyone else be prepared, as well. |
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| gandhistoto | Wednesday 19-08-2009, 12:05 Post #3 |
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theOtaku
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Even today was a hectic one. No, because it's today, it was a hectic day. It had been a week since the funeral of Baroness Lorelei. People were demanding answers and answers they could not get. Beatrice Glydannsel was trying to calm the crowd, assuring them that the Omniscient was still on their side, that the death of the Baroness was nothing but the natural cycle of every living creature, that she would only return to His embrace. But she knew better than that. On Baroness' forehead, was found the number '666' written in blood using three different languages- one pertaining to the village, the other the country's official language and the last, an ancient language only found in olden books. However,contrary to what one would think, there were no signs of bruise or scratch on her body, let alone the wound as the source of the blood. There were no signs of struggle in the room either. In fact, she was lying on her bed peacefully when her aide discovered the woeful truth. Of course not all the details were included in the report to the villagers and that was the reason for the uproar. But how could she disclose such disconcerting facts to the believer when she herself, the Speaker of the Omniscient, could not digest the anomaly? So far, only she and a handful of other close friends of the Baroness knew about the 'fact' and she wanted it to remain that way. Hopefully, when the time comes for this puzzle to be solved, she was prepared for the answer, as Baroness' friend and as a member of The Council. After a while, twenty shielded Vinatras appeared from behind the sanctuary and coerced the villagers outside. It was no easy feat to disperse the crowd and they did just that. After all, they are the pride of the village, the noteworthy individuals that have never failed to protect the Baroness in times of peril. "I hope no one will get hurt," whispered Beatrice to herself as the villagers soon went their own separate ways after getting disbanded for the third time this week. The residents of Puhilsgar are believers of the Omniscient before anything. The simplest act of heresy would enrage the whole fiefdom and the culprit would be very lucky if he were to get a painless death. The village on the hill was no different and so to keep the peaceful days in the village, someone was chosen as the leader. Generations after generations, the eldest child from Baroness' family had been trusted for this family and the tradition would continue. Baroness Lorelei was the 7th generation and like all her predecessors, she was seen as the person who would guide them to His side. Her death had been more than just a shock to everyone. Never in Puhilsgar history, a leader ended her cycle at such a young age, not to mention the confidential informations kept from the villagers. They are like chickens without their mother and that was the main reason for the formation of The Council. Naturally, Beatrice as the incumbent Speaker of the Omniscient was part of The Council. A guard then came to her and escorted her out from the sanctuary towards the top of the hill, where the residence of Baroness stood. "May the Omniscient bless Puhilsgar and this village." |
| "I'll do what I want, where I want and when I want" | |
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| Butterfly | Thursday 20-08-2009, 10:18 Post #4 |
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Aesthetic Improviser™
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Darkness engulfed the valley in as the sun took it rest from the sky. The chill of the night took over the sweet warmth of afternoon sun. She picked up her pace, eager to reach the comfort of her small house on the hill. Today was not that bad after all, she thought. It was only the short meeting with the carpenters’ guild, in which they reported that the demand for timber products are rising while there is not enough carpenters to meet their needs. Yesterday was one of the worst though, she met almost half a dozen of the various guilds and ministers in the fiefdom. It was a strenuous work, but who would have guessed that the late Baroness Lorelei will appoint her for this imperative position within the council? Although she was handling some administrative works previously as the personal assistant for the late Baroness, she was no more than an aide. Often she felt puny amongst the many important figures that previously held influential positions in Puhilsgard before assuming the council’s membership. However she would assure herself that Baroness’ choice must be based from a strong reason. It cannot be a whimsical choice. She cannot be that careless in appointing someone to take care of internal affairs, someone responsible for the whole fiefdom and the whole council. Finally she reached her house. Her newly-appointed two guards openned the door for her and gave a smile. “Miss Shaquilla, welcome back” She nodded and smiled back at him. Fiona Shaquilla is a familiar face in the fiefdom. Not because she is an important figure now, but of her friendly manner, always likable to many and helpful to everyone. Maybe it’s why Baroness Lorelei chose her, maybe it was the reason to put the responsibility on her shoulder. While she is adapting to the new tasks and work, she can’t help to ponder on the baroness’ death. There is something in her death that still perplexed her though she wonders why. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind. “It’s time to sleep now” she whispered to herself and she was fast asleep in a short while, entering the ethereal world of dream. |
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| Scorpio | Friday 21-08-2009, 01:32 Post #5 |
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Conjurer
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The people were out on the streets. The building was burnt, the warehouses ransacked. People dying of hunger lie here and there, some staggered towards him, crying out, reaching out to him. Some were even too weak to reach out, they just stared at him... pairs of eyes, red and sore, dark and lifeless. Dark and lifeless. Inquisitor Krohzen woke up with a start. He panted heavily. That dream again... clearer this time... He looked outside to the clear sky, stars shining white, few clouds forming behind the great T'ang Mountain, far beyond the Eastern banks. He leaned on the cold walls, peering down. Three armour-clad Levium directly beneath his window, and another five up on the gates. There was nothing on the grass field between the building and the gates, save the three bare flagpoles. Tomorrow, during morning parade, three levium will raise the flags again, of Puhilsgar's, of The Omniscient's, and of The Inquisitor's. Half-mast, as they had done for the past week. The Baroness had fallen. The news had been a big blow to Puhilsgar, a considerable village in a remote corner of the Empire. Even the touch of the Speakers had not been relatively effective these days; the morale of the villagers was low. And there was a bigger problem. Let us face it, everyone hates taxes. They hate debt collector even more. In fact, the people of the Empire hate them very much that they actually had to wear armour everywhere they go. Thus the Levium was created, the great army of the late Exchequer Jhered. Nobody, the Advocate decided, was worthy of the title besides Paul Jhered, a great man of his time. The levium now came under Krohzen, as one of the Advocate's trusted men. Unfortunately that trust and goodwill did not extend to all parts of the Empire. Here in Puhilsgar, there had never been any serious uprisings, but Krohzen had seen worse. He had been one of the young soldiers among the triarii in the Levium, marching through the wastelands of Atreska, a place from which his nightmares kept haunting him up until this very night. Atreska decided to go up against the Empire just after the Tsardon attack began on the Empire. Atreska, previously filled with beautiful gardens and lush forests, was ruthlessly torn down, raped to the bone by those Tsardon thugs. Krohzen could never forget the dirty tricks the Tsardon unleashed on their legions, killing his friends and countless more. Krohzen closed his eyes. And the people of Atreska suffered the damage... He could never forget the look on those Atreskans, having nothing but the piece of cloth on their bodies, dying every minute under the demon called hunger. He could not help but think how excessive taxation had actually forced the allies of the Empire to turn against her. His is a job toughest in the whole Empire. People scorned them, the armor-clad levium, but they were the very engines on which the Empire thrived. And now the Baroness was gone. Krohzen's main supporter, the Baroness had always been happy to legalise sound judgements. They had been friends all right. He wondered if the new ruler would be so generous. Yesterday, Vargas, his squire, told him one thing that seriously disturbed his mind. Especially because Vargas is a man of his words; he only speaks what he thinks is just. "I think you should be the next ruler, Lord Krohzen." That kept him thinking. A big power, but it requires such a great responsibility... should he took it up? There were others who would love being the new ruler, like Lord Garisa, or the rising Malleus, or even the Baroness' previous secretary, Fiona. Krohzen trusted that Lady Beatrice, the Speaker, would not join in the power transfer. He had to trust her. He simply could not afford another clash between Levium and Vinatras should a power struggle ended up bloody. He had a simple outlook in life: he had seen worse, and he would do his best to prevent it. Then the next piece of news came. It was a mental blow, the last piece that clarified the fact that he is facing a trouble in his mind. "Lord Krohzen, you are chosen as one of The Council. There will be a meeting tomorrow, at Prime, in the Center Manor. Fiona S." He inhaled the cold dawn air, took a sip of water, and exhaled. He stood up and welcomed the new day, and whatever it will bring him today. The words of Paul Jhered rang clear in his mind. 'Let's go. We can't fall back.' Author's notes: Levium is the army of the Inquisitor's, their main job is to collect taxes and protect themselves. Vinatras is the army of the Speaker of the Omniscient, previously from the disbanded Armour of God. Prime: the time of the first service of mercenaries and general army; it is equivalent to 9 am in our time. Center Manor is where the late Baroness resides. Atreska is a small nation, having limited autonomy under The Empire. It was a major site of battle between The Empire and Tsard, which nearly ended up in the defeat of the Empire. |
| The best liars tell the truth... | |
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| cscs | Friday 21-08-2009, 14:27 Post #6 |
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Novelist Wannabe
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Garisa ran his hands through my dark, woolen cape. It was finally dry, and good for wearing.The recent huge rains had made the cape constantly wet, but thankfully the fabric was not damaged. I need to thank the woolmakers, he thought. He couldn't afford to find the woolen fabric damaged on this particular day. It was the day of the council meeting. The letter for Garisa came from what used to be the Baroness' Center Manor. While it had no particular sender name, he could almost probably guess that it was written by Fiona, the late Baroness' secretary. The cursive handwriting had revealed the identity of its scribe. Garisa checked the letter yet once again. Lord Garisa, As stated in the late Baroness' will, there will be a council meeting held in the next two days. The council will need to decide on the rulings of Puhilsgar. Your coming is to be expected of you. The meeting will be held in the Center Manor at the point of noon. Thank you. With that, the letter ended. They still cannot remove that title from my name, Garisa wondered. He had never asked for the title, yet they call him that. He wasn't even sure that it was correct in the hierarchy of power. But this was not the most apt time to think about that. He took the cape and wore it over his body. Taking the letter, he went to the Center Manor. |
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How can you love others when you don't love yourself? For the world is fun because you are the main character in it. StoryTales ~A Place Where All Tales Belong | |
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