Gobble's Writings

[Gobblemeister]

I know most of you, if any at all, know me for writing the trashy NG pornography

I want to assure you though that I do take writing seriously and hope to improve

I'm constantly circulating ideas and hope it's permissible that I use my own topic to catalog this, and of course receive some feedback.

With that said I wanted to share a small introduction from an idea I've had mulling in my head for a time know.
I wrote this in my spare time to keep me writing things other than porn

The passage of time has become dulled. I cannot discern the hours from days, the days from weeks. All I can remember is the stillness, the silence. The endless whirring of the fan on the ceiling above, the constant, rhythmic rotations of it's shadow against the sterile white walls. I would watch that shadow, hear that sound, and I would remember what brought me here. I remember the wind-cold, biting, vicious-against my face, the smell of blood...

"Get off your ass shithead, you're little break is over"

I'm back here, back on this warm, sterilized white bench. The guard is yelling at me again. How long was I sitting there? How long was I lost? These things don't matter anymore, I'm back in reality, and I can't force myself out of it. Here I sit, I am no longer home, I am light years away. On this foreign planet, a wasteland, abandoned by life and left empty. I tried to get up and shut this purple faced idiot but my knees were stiff and my legs asleep. I stumbled to my feet and met eyes with the guard. He was a coward, I could see it in those beady little brown eyes, he shut up rather quickly. He was right though, break was over, I hadn't eaten again and the prospect of another 6 hour shift on an empty stomach was far from appealing. Regardless, I needed to take my mind away from things, these memories, I needed to escape them. I lumbered awkwardly in the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. The disheveled appearance of the bathroom was almost refreshing in contrast to the bland, monotone of the institution. Walking in I began to wonder why I even came here, but I decided to run my hands under some water anyway. The sensation of the warm water was unsettling at first. A splash of reality against my reverie, was I truly growing disillusioned between my reality and the nightmares? I looked at my hands, it felt strange seeing what I looked like now. My visions of soft, milky white hands gave way to the calloused, browned, rugged appendages that if it were not for their obedience I would have sworn held no attachment to my self. I looked down at my feet, at my worn, standard issue boots and caught sight of the vibrant orange of my jumpsuit. It was then that I fully remembered once again, I was a prisoner. A criminal turned civil servant when the warden worked a deal with the government to send us here. I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing myself anew. I was worn, that was the only thing I could think. My body was gaunt, my skin taut against my muscle and bone. My eyes had grown sunken and solemn, bright green iris' had faded. I hadn't shaved in years, a chestnut brown mass of hair outlined my square chin. My hair remained well kept though, one of the few vestiges of normalcy I suppose. For a second I almost thought to call myself handsome. I laughed softly and the notion and I splashed the soothing warm water on my face. Suddenly the reality wasn't so daunting, I smiled again, the feeling was good, I felt as though I might smile all day amongst rapist and murderers if but to keep this feeling with me, this almost childish satisfaction. I heard a knock on the door
"You there Tim?"

Maurice was imposing to say the least. His body was a temple of muscle, sculpted from the toil of work, the only solace a man could find trapped in this cage. His face was chiseled with pronounced lines yet his features were relaxed on his face. His skin was a deep dark color that stood out as a stark contrast to the standard orange jumpsuit. My relationship with Maurice is hard to describe. Technically, we're mutual partners, thing is, he's hardened criminal, jailed for 15 years on a life sentence. Me? I'm don't even have a clear idea of why I'm here, only that I'm never going to be a free man again. It's surreal almost, looking into his face, the face of a murderer, and seeing the meekness and trepidation that Maurice held in his face. It always seemed that way around here. It was not uncommon to look into the eyes of a man who raped 15 women and see his eyes turn away at even the slightest glance. Or an arsonist, who burned a family of 4 alive in there home, to shrink at even the mention of conflict. Each and every man here knew he was a monster, and yet, we seemed almost fit to be called sheep, flocked together in mutual fear. I feared these men for despite their oftentimes meek, submissive, even pathetic appearances, I saw in their eyes the wildness of passion, the untamed flame that drove them to atrocity. With every step into Cafeteria it was as though I was challenging the temper of a contained maelstrom. Although the bustling of activity was civil and controlled there was a suffocating tension, that someone could snap at any second. At the slightest offense a man could see himself dead. With the robotic security constantly overseeing the activity of the inmates we never saw any incident, but the tension was inescapable.

You would think I'd have snapped, living under constant mental duress, but there was always the work. Despite itself I craved the chances we were given to break free of confinement into the open air. I could say I even enjoyed my being in this place if only for the work, though I'm not sure why. It's hard to get into exactly why we do what we do, it's really not unlike the Camus' Sisyphus. We find pleasure in assigning purpose to something that, for all we know, is trivial expenditure of time and resources. The higher ups insist that this for the prosperity of the Motherland, but I could care less about nationalism. For me, I find an instinctual joy in menial labor. I don't remember much since being here, but something within me innately hungers to toil and labor. It's as though my entire life has consisted of me waking in a saturated daze with the sole purpose of working ever muscle and sinew in my body until they are worn. It's really quite simple. We leave the compound and are use the wagons, automatically designated to the assigned location, to traverse the wastelands until we reach the proper location. What is the wasteland? Well, according to most accounts, this planet used to be inhabited, but the former inhabitants covered it with their waste. Strange objects piled upon each other in sometimes monolithic volumes. The land beneath the waste is dead, rotted away under sludge, deformed into a petrified white. It cracks underfoot, releasing a fetid stench that is overpowering when received in full force. The trash itself smells only slightly less powerfully, it is almost a dulled, bitter waft that has spread itself too thin to do more than dizzy. Everyday we would drive out into the teeth of the barren land for one thing. Incineration. Our jobs as prisoners to the state was to incinerate hundreds upon hundreds of tons of the trash every day. We spent at the very least 16 hours out in the wasteland, a place affectionately called "The Landfill Gulch." After all, that's what we saw, a giant landfill, it was almost comforting in its familiarity.

[Gobblemeister]

Something within the feeling of rusted metal and festering earth hearkened back to bygone years. It was surreal to see a prisoner man-broken, haunted, weary-light up as he spoke of the sensation he feels out there, in the open air with the sun beating down upon him. Freedom wasn't something we thought we would ever have in prison. Even though no one I ever asked remembered the days before this planet, they shook, almost by trigger, at the mention of it. Myself? All I see is the silhouette of the fan, hear the whirring of it's metallic blades, and feel the cold air on my face. In reminiscence of it I feel a strange dread, a throbbing in my chest, like a oft discarded memory of a reprehensible error. A chilling sensation creeps over me even now at the thought of it. I shook myself from the reverie and turned to Maurice. He had already suited up in the Standard Protective suit, a milky white colored body suit that hung loosely with a tinted glass mask over the face. He turned to me, even without his eyes or words I could tell he was wondering when I would stir from my dreams and get dressed. I chuckled softly to myself and slipped on the gloves threw the suit over my clothes. The feeling of the material almost rubbery as it lightly touches my skin.
"This is Tim do you read?" I said, speaking into the small microphone embedded in the mask. Maurice shook his head, in doing so I adjusted the knob whispering lightly until I received a thumbs up.
"This is Maurice, I copy" he replied. I let out another, almost involuntary chuckle as I jumped onto the wagon in the passenger seat. I could feel Maurice looking at me with a raised eyebrow, but he knew my giddiness too.

We were going outside
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Anyway, as I said, I am open to any and all criticisms. I would appreciate if you focused mainly on the conventions and structure itself but if there is something else you would like to say I also appreciate your input.

I also have other writings on my newsposts that, for the sake of brevity, I will not post here.

[Aigis]

At 12/8/10 06:30 PM, Gobblemeister wrote: "This is Tim do you read?"
"This is Maurice, I copy"

I did that. This was ME.

I have input. I expect a co-author credit and a percentage of the profits.

[DeftAndEvil]

How do you write porn? And why. Do you write scripts for porn, or do you write: "he put his penis in her vagina, took it out, and repeated." >.>

[Gobblemeister]

At 12/10/10 02:31 AM, DeftAndEvil wrote: How do you write porn? And why. Do you write scripts for porn, or do you write: "he put his penis in her vagina, took it out, and repeated." >.>

I don't even know how to seriously answer that question

How do you think I write it? By typing the words onto a page

It's just like any other kind of writing but erotic

[DeftAndEvil]

At 12/10/10 10:14 PM, Gobblemeister wrote:

At 12/10/10 02:31 AM, DeftAndEvil wrote:

I don't even know how to seriously answer that question

Try pushing the keys on your keyboard.

How do you think I write it? By typing the words onto a page

Didn't answer my question.

It's just like any other kind of writing but erotic

That's not vague at all. I assume you have plots, character development, conflict, narrative techniques etc?

[Gobblemeister]

At 12/12/10 02:39 AM, DeftAndEvil wrote:

At 12/10/10 10:14 PM, Gobblemeister wrote:

At 12/10/10 02:31 AM, DeftAndEvil wrote:

That's not vague at all. I assume you have plots, character development, conflict, narrative techniques etc?

Essentially yes

Obviously these mechanics aren't taken as seriously and it's written in mostly a humorous tone. There;s very little character development because the Audience I wrote it for already knows who the characters are. As for a plot well.......it's about what you would expect.

[Gobblemeister]

Here's an essay I wrote a while ago

In Kate Chopin's The Awakening the inner plight of Edna Pontellier is explored deeply through
the author's use of basic rhetorical strategies. Through masterful use of rhetorical techniques (Diction, Syntax, and Figurative Language) Chopin is able to detail the tumult of Edna's struggle in a profound and affecting way.

The objective in using various syntax techniques is to create a profound emphasis on a theme or
idea. At the very beginning of the chapter Chopin opens with "Edna Pontellier could not have told why,
wishing to go to the beach with Robert, she should in the first place have declined, and in the second
place followed in obedience to one of the two contradictory impulses which impelled her." As a series of short, dependant clauses separated by commas, the quoted text appears rushed, cluttered, and disoriented. Chopin uses this to set the tone for the rest of the chapter and subtly hint to the tumult in Enda's mind as she confronts her options. In an example of parallel structure Chopin creates an Anaphora saying "The voice of the sea is seductive...The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous..." Chopin consistently uses parallel structure in Chapter 6 to emphasize the importance of certain ideas. Chopin does this in such a way that while subtle, is impacting and builds the emotional connection between the idea and the reader. "The voice of the sea" is repeated, and each time the image, the sound, is brought back to the reader's, it takes the forefront of their thought, and in doing so, resonates. The sea is central to Edna's thoughts, and Chopin ensures that this is the focus. Another example of parallel structure begins "It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight she had abandoned herself to tears." Here Chopin illustrates a progression. Using the same preposition [to] to transition between stages of Edna's emotional presence gives it that effect. The reader gets a sense that Edna is shifting constantly, moving between emotional stages and accentuating the overall essence of the passage. Chopin expertly crafts an ascending culmination of thoughts, a rush of ideas, to draw the reader even closer to the cluttered and disoriented mind of Edna. To effectively communicate specific emotions Chopin utilizes diction. Diction centers on manipulating the inherent connotations of words and structure to draw a particular reaction. An example of this occurs throughout the chapter. Chopin uses words that illicit images of light and dark dawn dimly, shadowy anguish, midnight- to portray the conflict of Edna's feelings. Another prominent example involves Chopin's selective and suggestive undertones of confusion communicated through her diction. She subtly implies this when describing Edna's mental 'location'- mazes, abysses, solitude- to be in places of darkness, loss of direction, traps. Chopin even utilizes paradoxes to further the concept of Edna's contradictory feelings and her confusion. Phrases like "-the light which, showing the way, forbids it" speak to Edna's internal tumult, the idea that she cannot even sort the feelings inside her. Chopin also writes "[But] the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing." This is Chopin's way of subtly alluding to the beginning of Edna's evolution. As Edna's journey begins, as she starts to shed her preconceptions, Chopin alludes to uncertain, disoriented, and frightening implications that follow it. Edna is embarking on her own personal quest to create her own world, even though she does not realize it yet, and yet this new world terrifies her because she does not know why she wants it. Chopin's diction drips with these emotions and connotations, effectively showing Edna's confusion and fear without declaring it outright. This underlying approach is what makes the depiction so effective, because even as it is written on the page, the conflict is internal, withdrawn from plain sight.

"The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the
soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation." This particular quote from Chopin's passage is filled with a bevy of figurative terms that are used to
emphasize Edna's turmoil and even the small solace she finds in the sea. The persisting alliteration of long "s" sounds is soothing. The flow of the words- combining consonance and assonance- implies a sense of catharsis in which Edna finds herself drawn. The passage also personifies the sea as a voice, one that speaks to Edna in a way that she cannot help but feel connected to and allured by. It becomes apparent that Edna is searching for something, a feeling that only the sea can give he. Yet, at the same time it is clear she is not sure what it is. The sea is simply a voice, a voice that comes from an unknown place within Edna, a voice that brings her to the water's edge and "[invites] the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose herself in mazes of inward contemplation." In another passage the sea is personified again "The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace." Here Chopin gives the sea form. Edna is embraced by the sea, it consumes her, and yet it is soft, and close. The sea is a recurring theme throughout this passage, and Chopin uses several instances of figurative language to emphasize this. The sea is a symbol for the unknown, a symbol for the desires that have been quelled within Edna for so long, a symbol for the freedom and independence Edna subconsciously longs for.

Kate Chopin masterfully manipulates rhetoric to instill the inner struggle and surfacing
rediscovery of herself. Through Syntax, Diction, and Figurative Language Chopin illustrates the terror,
the uncertainty, the rush of escaping the old and becoming new. Chopin expertly utilizes her craft to
depict this in a variety of ways that both refresh and emphasize the very emotions that lie within Edna. At the same time, however, Chopin manages to keep these ideas subtle, concealed under rhetoric, again emphasizing the internal nature of Edna's struggle and emotional tumult. As Edna does not show her burgeoning revelation, Chopin does not outright show the extent of Edna's change

[Gobblemeister]

Story thing I've been writing on and off for a few months

Spirits were high as the sun showered a warm glow over The Capital. The city seemed filled with color as the citizens bustled about the marketplaces and residential areas. Today was a day of jubilation, and it was reflected in the skies filled with confetti and streaming, colored cloths that, as dictated by the seal engraved upon them, coiled through the open air like snakes through grass. When night fell in but a few hours the purple night would be illuminated by the explosive hue of magical lights, an artificial aurora created by a collection of the world's most advanced wizards. On this day The Capital celebrated it's 100th anniversary as capital of the Nuun Kingdom. For a century now The Capital had stood as the stalwart symbol of supremacy that Nuun exerted over the Eastern Continent, her walls braving invasion and thriving through years of technological advancement and improvement. The Capital was almost anachronistic in a time where the marvels of steam power and mechanics were unveiling themselves throughout the world. Despite that The Capital retained a rustic aesthetic and style, the residents occupying it for that very reason. Of course there were many different districts, some more modern than others. The Capital was the safest place in the Eastern Continent, and the wealthy paid greatly to secure themselves there, and the poor meshed themselves into the blend, drifting in whenever the gates opened long enough. The Capital itself was a terraced fortress of sorts, the higher you lived the safer you were. As such the lower districts were crowded with the poor and military, whereas the higher districts belonged to the wealthy aristocracy. However, contrary to the norm, the poor were prized in The Capital. They fueled the Market Economy of the city with their purchasing and investing. The Capital was a place where the poor of the Eastern Continent could revel in acceptable conditions, education and healthcare, the likes of which could not be found in lower class societies in virtually any other city on the planet. It was a utopia in a Golden Age and everyone wanted a part of it for themselves. On this day 100 years of peace, prosperity and philosophy would come crashing down in a bolt of lightning.

The mighty steel gates of The Capital stood tall, looming. Two guard outposts stood beside the gate at its flanks. The figure of a burly man came into view from the outposts. As he came closer into view his hulking form became even more imposing. The dark skinned man stood at 7 feet at the very least, and his upper body was monolithic. His shoulders were broad and thick, his arms bulbous with thick, toned muscle, his chest, inflated outward and wide, his stomach tight, compact. The guards in the outpost looked on in awe of him. On his forearms he wore bracers of some strange stone, archaic in their appearance save for the strange, levitating rods that circled the length of them. His massive hands were gloved in worn bandages and his fingernails were dark with filth and grime. He was dressed only in a worn pair of green pants, likely made by his own hand, large black boots, and a harness over his upper body that held a strange, sizable box that on his back in place. His face was misleading, slim, the skin tight on the bone with clean facial hair. Even stranger was the bizarre hairstyle, his hair was put up into a strange ball around the shape of his head and beard. As the guards continued to stare at this anomaly of a man he spoke, his voice hearty and thick
"Good evening Gentlemen, it is with pride I say that on this day you will bear witness to the end of The Capital!"
Immediately alarmed the guards retreated into the outpost and in moments 5 of them stood before the man, armed with steam powered rifles.
"Ha" the man laughed again "I am Absalom, I am the mightiest wizard of this age, how dare you challenge me with your trinkets."
Without a moment's hesitation the rifles fired at him, clouds of steam erupted, hissing loudly. When the clouds cleared Absalom stood unfazed, laughing boisterously as he advanced toward the horrified guards. Their guns had exploded, the steam triggered rounds had somehow expanded inside the rifles and torn them open. Absalom laughed and widened his eyes into a glare, the guards crumbled to the earth like frightened children. He stepped over the weeping guards toward the gate and smiled. He cracked his knuckles and neck with a thick crunch and took a deep, nasal breath. He tensed every muscle in his arms and raised them above his head, then, in a blur of motion, he thrust his arms into the solid, 4ft thick steel of the gate and shredded it as though it were paper thin. He tore at the metal with a rabid, manic fury, his every motion exuding the profound insanity within him. He tore through the gate and came through to find a collective of horrified onlookers, he laughed
"Haha, it's a party people! Don't stop on my account" The people stared, frozen, before the crowd erupted into a panic, a mob stampeding in all directions. "That's what I like to see!" Absalom searched for the ascending flight of stairs that would lead him to the higher terraces. Upon finding it a grin stretched over his face and a crazed chuckle escaped him as he began to sprint through the mob, brushing them aside like tall blades of grass as he powered his way through. He was with sparse and hurried resistance that he muscled out of his path, bowling over them with only his momentum. His juggernaut rampage broke through flimsy gates, wooden market stands, and various other obstacles with ease. No weapon fazed him as he barreled through each ascending level, closer to the top with each passing second. As his target became more apparent a State of Emergency was declared and forces funneled themselves to the very top level, The Library of Nuun. The Library of Nuun was a national treasure, one of the most important political and intellectual establishments in the world. Little known though, were the secrets that lay within it. Artifacts sealed deep within that held untapped and unimaginable power. Absalom had been planning this for a while, toning his body, his magic, all for this one day where the final piece to his puzzle would fall into his hands. A tear of relief fell from his eye as the last barricade fell before him, the last wall, and he would be there, at the gates of the library.
As the final gate was flung outward Absalom came screeching to a halt. Surrounding him was a collection of The Capital's finest wizards, veterans of wars, legends in their own right. Absalom knew them, and they knew him.

[Gobblemeister]

"Now this is what I'm talking about" Absalom laughed, he couldn't help but smile, all these faces were so familiar "what happened to the rugged men I fought with? You've all gotten old" his tone darkened and his grin faded "and soft!" He bounded forward in a sudden leap over the wizards and toward the Library's facade. Following him was a trail of frantic bolts of magic. Some twisted and curled, other shot forth like bullets. Absalom merely brushed them aside with the bracers on his forearms. A cloud of smoke erupted before him, blinding him for a moment before a paper tag flew in from the smoke and attached itself to his chest. The tag had the word 'BIND' written in runes along the length of it. In seconds Absalom felt the magic take effect and attempt to hold him down. Absalom muscles and struggled but even his strength couldn't resist the exceptional wizardry that had crafted the tag. Absalom merely laughed as the congregation of wizards gathered in a formation they had clearly done many times before. As they chanted, their voices deep and solemn as a ball of multicolored magic began to swirl above them, sparking and crackling as it spun in the air.
"WE WERE BROTHERS IN ARMS" Absalom screamed, his body straining and his veins popping "We shed blood together" his eyes began to grow red and bloodshot "You would betray me, despite all of that!?"Absalom let out a horrible cry as the bracers began to spin violently and current of green electricity "I have no more compassion, no more mercy, only my hate." The electricity began to course over his body as he let out a deep, pained scream and air around him began to grow heavy. The earth around him was crushed under the sheer pressure of his energy exuding from his body. The wizards looked on in horror as the tag was obliterated, ripped to shreds by an invisible force that began to slice at the earth and all other material surrounding Absalom. The wind began to pick up and dark clouds sprawled over the sunlight, shrouding the city in shade. Bolts of lightning crashed into the stone at Absalom's feet, scattering debris and incurring the horrified screams of onlookers. Soon, the entire city was under the mercy of a barrage of thunderbolts. Houses burned or were demolished, and debris flew through the air and onto the streets. The wizards began to grow frightened, the power Absalom was generating was inhuman, even among wizards the power to manipulate nature was feared. As the static currents grew in size, number and prominence so did the sphere of magical energies the opposing wizards where gathering.
"We have to use it now!" one of them shouted over the dyne of thunder and crackling air
"It's not ready" another replied "we can't control it"
"We have no choice!"
Begrudgingly the collective agreed, channeling all their energies into the undulating sphere of rainbow light. Absalom let a choked scoff at their efforts escape him, his body now distended with strained muscle, his eyes a bright red and the pupils a deep purple. The sphere suddenly detached itself from the area above the wizards and hovered briefly, the lightning bolts striking it were absorbed, increasing its size almost imperceptibly. The wizards laughed
"See how his own magic is turned against him!" one exclaimed giddily
"Indeed, it seems our old friend still has a lot to learn" scoffed another.
In an instant the orb stiffened and rocketed toward Absalom. Absalom thrust his hands into the air and caught the orb with his bare hands. The bandages melted away and the hissing and steaming of the magic against is flesh poured from his palms. The orb pushed him back, his heels grinding deeply into the earth beneath his feet, it seemed poised to swallow him soon. As lightning continued to strike the orb it advanced closer and closer to him, until both his hands were entirely enveloped. The wizards looked on in awe as Absalom held the magic at bay, despite the futility of it, or so they thought. Absalom suddenly erupted into a mad guffaw as his true intentions became apparent. The lightning within the orb had strengthened it, but also tamed it. He used his dominion over the lightning to absorb the magic into his bracers, causing them to emanate a searing white glow. The wizards had not a second to tremble in astoundment before Absalom pounded his fists together, releasing the magic from his bracers. The tumultuous dyne outside vanished and a sphere of silence surrounded Absalom. The white glow swallowed and disintegrated all matter unfortunate enough to be caught in its path, the wizards included. Their screams fell upon deaf ears as their bodies were obliterated in an instant. Absalom found himself shaken from his daze immediately after, his mind blank from the previous few seconds. The thunder had ceased and the only sound that filled the air was the downpour of rain. The screams had stopped and Absalom looked at his feet, a crater that surrounded at least a twenty meter radius surrounded him. He grinned as he stumbled forward, exhausted. The Library was just ahead, and no obstacles remained. Decades of preparation and conditioning were about to pay off. He could not help but to laugh, even now, though his body was wracked with wear.
Agro had been crossing the planes a few kilometers away from The Capital when he saw the glow of light. The abnormal weather change seemed clearer now for it. He knew magic when he saw it, and he could feel its power rushing over him, unsettling even the smallest blades of grass with a slight breeze. It would be at least a week before he reached the city from his current position, but he decided to detour from the path, if only to satiate his curiosity.
He approached the ruined gates of The Capital in the early morning. The sun had just begun to settle at its peak in the sky. As he approached the lone guard sitting outside of the tower surveyed him. He was a tall, gaunt young man, his form wiry and thin. All skin exposed on his body below the neck was disguised by tightly wrapped bandaging. His jaw was covered by a vibrant red scarf, the same color as the mane of disheveled hair on his head. His face was a soft, smooth pale, accentuated by fierce emerald eyes. He dressed simply in battle armor, plated steel fortified with black leather in the soft spots. His legs were lightly armored, presumably for mobility as only his knee caps and shins were guarded. On his arms he wore gauntlets of iridescent silver, with small orb shaved grooves at the base that were filled by bright yellow gems. Upon sizing him up the guard knew right away his decision

[Gobblemeister]

"Hold up buddy" he began. The guard was also thin and wiry, but stood far shorter than the imposing Agro "if you think I'm letting you through this barrier you can think again." He motioned to the veil of purple light that guarded the door. "I constructed that barrier myself, took me 3 hours, you won't be able to break in, so I have to let you in, understand?" the guard's voice was arrogant, sardonic and grating.
Agro looked lazily from the guard to the barrier "Listen" he began, his voice crisp, surprisingly soft for a man his size "I just need to speak to someone inside, he's a wizard, even you can't override him."
The guard's face went from annoyance to mockery as Agro spoke "The wizards are dead" he scoffed "got wiped out in the blink of an eye."
Agro raised his brow but his eyes remained half open "Who could have the power to do that?"
"Some gigantic ape of a man came stampeding into the city a week ago, tore half of it apart in the process" he pointed to the plumes of smoke that still billowed from the city "it's my charge to make sure incompetence at the gate doesn't cause another incident like this."
"Are you sure all of them are gone?"
"Well, I think they said that old crone Teiresias wasn't with the others when it happened, he's always been a stick in the mud, guess it paid off this time eh?" he added with a scoff.
"Teiresias is who I came to see"
"Well, that sure is convinient isn't it? The only wizard I happen to mention being alive just so happens to be a good friend of your am I correct?" he laughed, mocking Agro's apparent attempt to deceive him.
"So you're saying I'm a liar?"
"Mmmmmmmm deal with it"
"Look, I need to hurry to the South and I don't have time for pandering" Agro said, his voice growing agitated "either you let me in or you tell Teiresias to come here, either works for me."
"Wait...did you say South?"
"...Yes?"
"How far South?"
"To the pole"
"Will you perchance be passing through Gole?"
"More than likely"
The guard paused "Alright, let me make a deal with you"
Agro sighed "What do you want now?"
"I have a letter I need delivered to my fiancee in Gole, but I cannot leave my post long enough to get it to her, and the postal routes are always getting raided by bandits, I don't want the risk., so...."
"You want me to take your letter to her?"
"Exactly"
"I'm not your courier, give me one good reason why I shouldn't just have your superiors call Teiresias here myself so I don't have to do your chores?"
"Because the last thing you want is the Guard watching you, if you cause an issue you'll be under constant watch. If I let you in though...."
"Fine"
"Really!?"
"Yes, to whom am I delivering?"
"Her name is Shau-Na, she lives at home with her mother, she's a wonderful cook and she..." the guard's enthusiasm began to glow as his rambling ensued.
"Enough, enough, I'll deliver your letter....."
"Rian"
"That's not what I was going to ask....but fair enough...Rian"
Rian beamed briefly and put his index finger to Agro's forehead, a glow of light flashed and it was done.
"You can pass through the barrier now" Rian said as he sat himself back down at his post .
Agro nodded and continued through the gates.

Agro proceeded through the bustling city on his way to the nearby bar, Teiresias undoubtably already knew Agro was here for him and would be at the usual place. The streets were filled with worried citizens mulling about in a daze, unsure of how to process the destruction about them. Agro gently brushed aside the crowds, offering small gestures of kindness to those stumbling in absolute confusion as he proceeded to the Tavern. Upon entering the tavern he found the usually jovial nature to be subdued. The warm glow of the room was contrasted by the dour mood of its patrons. Slumped, sighing, some even crying as they drank away their pains. A lot of people had lost their homes, their possessions, and some even their loved ones. Agro felt a pang of sympathy but tried not to show it, he knew the last thing the people of Nuun wanted was pity. He looked around until he found him, the short, white robbed man drinking greedily from the silver flask in his hand.
"Still drinking like wartimes eh?" Agro began with a light chuckle as he sat across from the old man.
"Still...errr...." the old man began with a drowsy groan.
Agro laughed "It's good to see you again Teiresias"
The old man nodded, stroking his thick white beard "It is isn't it? How is your father?"
"I'm going to see him now, I've been moving South for a few weeks now"
"I see, so it's as I feared"
"Yes, something's happening to the magic reserves in my body, I'm falling apart at the seams" Agro pulled down his scarf briefly to reveal his jaw. The skin had literally fallen off left only teeth and peeling muscle.
Teiresias grimaced "This isn't good, it's spreading fast, I don't know what it is, but something is draining the magic out of wizards everywhere" he breathed a heavy sigh "including myself."
"Is that what's happening? My magic is being drained?"
"It appears so, it would also explain why Absalom came"
"Absalom?"
"Yes, the greatest wizard of our time, he stole an artifact from the library said to be able to drain magic, by wielding it he can use it to continue draining magic from other wizards while feeding his own power."
"This issue seems to be more widespread than some artifact can reach"
"Undoubtably, I know not the cause, but Absalom's newfound power will only makes things worse."
"Was he the cause of the light I saw?"
"Yes, it was something unlike anything I'd ever seen, the way he manipulated the currents of the magic was simply" his voice grew raspy and distant "intoxicating."
"Are you alright?"
Teiresias nodded with a smirk "Yes, yes, I told them not to go you know. I knew they were going to die if they did, I saw it in the divinations."
"So he really did kill them all, one man killed The Capital's Wizard Guard"
"Indeed, it's startling how soft we had become..." his voice trailed again as his head to the side for a brief moment.
"I worry about your father Agro"
"Why?"
"I have seen omens, foul ones, clouds of thunder descending upon the Pole"
"I'll be there to protect him"
Teiresias let out a hearty laugh "Indeed you will" he paused and his tone became more dour "Agro, do not take these warnings lightly. If for whatever reason Absalom does come after your father, you must run."
"Run!?"
"Sprint if you can, you may not be a normal human, but Absalom is not a normal wizard"
"I am a Homonculus. My father designed me himself to be resistant to magic, I won't be bested by any wizard, you should know that" Agro's tone had grown indignant and stern.
"Boy you think too highly of yourself" Teiresias spat under his breath "you'll get yourself killed that way!"
Agro merely scoffed "It was nice seeing you old man, but I have to get moving"
Teiresias sighed regretfully before speaking again "Wait Agro, I want you to take someone with you."

[Gobblemeister]

"What?"
"He's a slave boy....I've raised him as a prodigy of mine for years....but I can't be responsible for him anymore."
"What makes you think I can take him? Unless you forgot I can only make this journey because I have no need for food. Your young ward is not as lucky I would bet."
"I'll be giving you my traveling cart as well of course, plenty of food for him, and it should make it easier to travel"
"But how will you travel?"
"Haha...this old body...isn't going anywhere, not anymore" Teiresias' voice grew grim as he took another heavy swig of his flask.
"I see..." Agro looked down at his feet "Teiresias..."
"Hm?"
"Thank you, for everything, I promise, I'll take him with me, I'll keep him safe" Agro finished hurriedly as he stormed out of the tavern leaving droplets of tears on the wooden floor below.
Teiresias breathed a light chuckle "Thank you Agro"

[Gobblemeister]

Agro did not go straight to the boy Teiresias had mentioned. Instead, he sat for a while on a bench a short distance away from the bar, emotions whirling. Few figures had remained constant in Agro's nomadic and troubled life, and Teiresias was one of those few. Memories of their time together in Agro's youth flashed before his mind. Teiresias never taught Agro magic, his father was the one who did that, but Teiresias taught Agro about valor, bravery, and the duty of a man. Agro's own father was too passive and gentle to impart the same wisdom, and Agro held the roughness Teiresias had used to teach him dear to his heart. As he sat on the bench, his body slumped, facing the cobblestone beneath him, he felt the irritating sensation of tears issuing from his eyes. They were sparse but pained, few but pronounced. Agro was unable to fully accept the gravity of it, but he knew it none the less, Teiresias was dying. Agro was then accosted by the recollection of his leaving, he stormed from the bar like a sniveling child. He considered going back but his feet felt anchored; his chest, heavy. He instead sat there, mulling silently until the sound of a rattling caravan shook him from his reverie.

"BEWARE THE TROLL" the driver shouted as the crowds cleared the streets to stare in amazement at a safe distance. Trolls were valued in slave labor for their bulky builds and high energy. Agro looked up at the beast, into its beady black eyes. The beast was a massive specimen, at least 15 feet tall cramped in a cage that stood at 8. It's body was covered in a thick coat of slick, moss colored hair save for its face. Its face was long, distorted and bony, tightly covered in thin flesh. The nasal area had a large fleshy lump covered in warts that seemed to move independent of itself in a disturbing fashion. The beast frothed at the mouth a roared at Agro, it's massive forearms reaching through the bars desperately. A glint erupted from its eye and upon seeing it Agro recoiled as though he had been blinded. All that seemed to come of it was a brief period of blurred vision for Agro and pacification for the Troll. Agro shook his head and decided now was the time to meet the slave boy Teiresias mentioned.

Agro found the boy standing by the city gates with a large pack on his back looking restlessly about. He too must have known of Teiresias' plans for him, Agro thought as he approached. Agro laid his gloved hand on the boy's shoulder. He wasn't as young as Teiresias had made him out to be. He was a young, dark skinned boy with an impressive physical build and handsome features. His clothes were simple, a jacket and slacks made of skins and a pair of sandals. He turned to face Agro with a wide, vibrant smile that seemed to swallow the rest of his face. He laughed and immediately grabbed Agro's hand with a tight grip and an enthused shake.

"Hey man, you must Agro!" he said, his voice was noticeably pleasant to Agro's ears.

"Yes, it seems you are already aware of the arrangements..." Agro began

"Oh yes, yeah, I mean, of course" the boy replied hurriedly

"Are you really brining all of that with you?" Agro said, pointing to the pack on the boy's back.

"It ain't much I promise"

"I understand that, but we will be traveling on foot for long periods of time, that thing will wear you down, and I will not take your limitations to heart, you will either keep up with me or be left behind"

The boy paused for a while and looked at his pack "I can handle it," the boy said seriously "the old man made sure I was ready for this" he added with a laugh.

Agro smiled from behind his scarf "Alright then, tell me, what is your name?"

"Abel, sir"

"You're not calling me sir, it's Agro"

"Sorry, Agro"

"Can you fight?"

"Well, I know some close combat, but my strengths lie in my Bard magics"

"Bard Magics?"

"Ye, the old man called 'em that, he said they're basically..."

"I know what they are, but you have no instrument"

"I sing"

"You....sing...."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How is singing supposed to help me? We're not going to be throwing any parties or putting any infants to sleep"

"For your information the old man taught me this magic himself, my specifc vocal range allows me to illicit certain reactions from the human body through my voice....at least that's what he said it does. All I know is when I sing I can control people's bodies. I can make them sad, angry, strong, scared, anything as long as the target can hear it."

Agro paused "Alright then, I want you to show me"

"You serious? I could get in a lot of trouble for it"

"I'll handle that, just show me"

"Okay"

Abel looked about and found an apple vendor and began humming a tune. Agro noticed how sweet the sound of his voice had become. It was like velvet against his ears and his entire body felt warm. Then Abel began to sing, he did not sing words that Agro understood, but they compelled him. Suddenly he was filled with a desire to take an apple from the vendor. It was as though he would collapse if he did not, he rushed over in a sweat and snatched one from the rack. He then handed it to Abel, again through powerful impulse. Just like that he was released, and Abel was laughing.

"I told you" he said as he placed the apple back on the rack.

Agro could not help but feel as impressed as he was embarrassed "That's a very powerful ability you have there."

"Ye, it's cause of my moms, she was a siren, my dad was a sailor and when she seduced him at sea I was the result. I've had trouble escaping that stigma, of being half beast and half man, but it gave me this power. I didn't ask for it, and i'm afraid of it, but I have it and I want to use it."

"Afraid?"

"Afraid of who I can hurt, people can train themselves to resist, and even become immune, but not everyone has that luxury. The power I have is something scary, I can't lose myself to it, I just want to make people happy doing what I love."

"What would that be?"

"Singing of course" Abel smiled as he looked into the sky "see, with my voice I can give the majesty of all the world's splendor with a song or a melody. If I can just make people smile when I sing i'm happy. I agreed to go with you for one reason, because I knew I would be helping you, but mostly, because I knew I would be helping the old man. So rest assured Agro, I won't let you down."

Agro placed his hand on Abel's shoulder again "Let's go, we have a long trip south ahead of us"

Abel smirked "I hope I can keep up with ya"