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Posted on the 21st of August 2019
Found this old dress last night. Thought I would try it on again. Seems to fit. just kidding found it on Daz. Had to use it, will play with it more when I get back Home. After doing the chores of course.
The following poems are randomly selected from part B of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
Why, does Natas always send me out here?
Nothing ever happens, nothing is ever alive.
Why, does he always send me out here?
I can't help it if I'm the only one left alive.
He has punished me enough, quite enough,
He has stripped away my great self esteem.
Now all I do, is wander this horrid Between;
Once a Wigrae, now a Shadow Creature called Zeme.
Ever since the Niknogard killed my brethren,
I've lost all strength,
Xenophobia rages throughout the Highlands,
Much like a sinister, rabid disease.
News of the Eleven had swept like wildfire,
Scared Assistants running away upon their knees.
They would take one look at Antis,
Thinking of him as nothing but a stray.
But all of a sudden they see that Ferral,
Sil, Arak, and the rest want to play.
The Eleven play a game of odds,
They bet on the outcome of the next fight.
That is to say how many opponents run,
And how many stand up from fright.
All the wayward Assistants make for safety,
Which they think lies in the Lowlands.
They are surprisingly led to their imprisonment,
Escorted by a branch of gentle Tender hands.
The sole surviving Wigrae returned,
To the Descendant of the Dark's hiding place.
Although the Wigrae's life was spared,
He had endured a sadistic chase.
The torment and trauma was horrendous,
So much so that the Wigrae had begged for his death.
The Niknogard would have willing obliged,
Except that he was the only one left.
The Wigrae was directed to Natas's disfigured feet,
It is here that the Wigrae told of his ordeal.
Natas didn't pay any attention to the details;
His pride was severed and shall never heal.
Immediate actions were taken in preparation,
For a retaliatory war, not at all pure.
Natas's anger had taken control over his rationing,
Unaware that he had fallen prone to Kindaal's lure.
Third Apostle's Letter
It's great to be back, amongst my finest companions. It was good to meet and converse with Nathaniel. But "there's no place like home." So the Ancient saying goes.
It seems awfully, quiet. I know, that the Ancient Lands are both hectic and fast. I also know, that I have been gone for quite a while. No thanks to the TRIPPER. But never, have I seen Garden, so, still.
Where are all my finicky friends?
Never, have they forgotten to make a fuss about my travels. They are constantly curious of the Ancient Lands.
Never, before has Garden been so, eerie.
Why does it seem so, lifeless?
Even Emalf doesn't seem to pay heed, to my persistent cries. Cries for answers.
Will someone, please inform me, of these things?
****** ******* ******* ******* *******
So. It couldn't be avoided. You did your utmost. The damage is done. There is always, hope. There is still a chance, that all is not at an end.
You say that this all happened two turnings ago. Then there's a slim chance, that there are still survivors, both Tender and Assistant.
Without having to confirm it, I would say that Natas has disappeared deep within Mephisot's Catacombs. Unable to comprehend this catastrophe. The enormity of it all. His downfall.
The Songs, they were true in what they spoke.
Come, let us search, for our fallen.
Citizen, the Traveller.
Brothers of Gub
I am a member, of the Brothers of Gub.
I, myself am a member of the lower order,
Being just a normal, humble Surtic;
Not even recognised as being a marauder.
One day, I'm going to be something;
Maybe even a Quinharle, or even a Faelminer.
I may even end up being , an Ecal Gub;
That promotion is a raise, that couldn't be finer.
They get the best jobs, and rewards.
Imagine, never again, being placed in the line;
The line of death, the confrontation of good.
Instead of drinking Emils, able to drink wine.
If only he would let me go,
Let me become one of my brothers,
Then, and only then will I sublet,
And show some respect, to the others.
The Niknogard charged at double time,
Forming the famous formation, the Bull Horn.
The Wigrae became aware of their pursuit,
Thus they planned a counter attack on the second dawn.
The Bull Horn formation is designed well;
Consisting of two major flanks and a front.
When the front encounters the enemy,
The flanks then fold, creating a massive stunt.
The enemy is surrounded by the Bull Horn,
They are at the mercy of their captors.
There is no escape from this deadly weapon,
The captured therefore have to endure their foes rapture.
So it happened to the Wigrae's main force,
Surrounded, from then on they were all killed.
That is except one, who was released,
To inform his master, who won't be thrilled.