Fulfilling a Mission

Fulfilling A Mission

Slight Summary 4:

Memories, stones on the water, the wooden planks on the dock, eating fish by the lake.  After the cyborg received damage from the security robots, a series of illogical patterns flooded it's mind.  The organic portion of Diana8U5-329-J's brain, what was left of it, had harbored many memories from it's former life.  At one time, Diana was human.

Concussion bombs went off in several directions, as accompanying assistant robots went into defensive mode in order to protect the cyborg and the girl that the cyborg had saved from the building.  They had been hidden, and they had been waiting for Diana8U5-329-J to emerge.  Diana8U5-329-J was confused.  It looked around itself.

It noticed the bombs going off; splintered wood and torn metal were flying in every direction.  It looked down and noticed the girl yelling at it.  Diana8U5-329-J could not hear a thing.  It felt a tug at it's damaged left arm, as the girl tried to pull the cyborg from the battleground.

Diana8U5-329-J noticed the assistant robots battling the guards, then turned and analyzed the quickest route out of the area.  Through it's shaking visuals, it noticed a barricade a few yards away.  The cyborg stood uneasily, and led by the girl, it moved quickly.  Gathering itself, Diana8U5-329-J took the girl in it's arms, and headed for the barricade as fast as it could.

Memories kept flooding it's cybernetic mind, stopping it several times in the midst of the battle.  the damaged cyborg's survival mode kept it moving.

Once behind the concrete barricade, the cyborg put the girl down.  It glanced at the girl, who had been yelling at it all of the time.  The cyborg could not hear a thing, so it analyzed the girl's lip pattern.

Robots? Soldier? A soldier?

Diana8U5-329-J glanced to it's right.  It knelt down and looked through the thick smoke.  The cyborg noticed that a soldier had arrived, but it was not a regular soldier.

An ally! An ally had arrived to assist in the mission!

Unfortunately, it was not an ally.

With great speed, Maxton1EA-349-H rushed towards Diana8U5-329-J, and rammed it into the barricade; impacting it into the concrete face.  The compromised cyborg pulled Diana8U5-329-J from the barricade with one hand, and slammed it down onto the ground with the other.  Diana8U5-329-J pushed back at it's attacker, to no avail.  The compromised cyborg took hold of Diana8U5-329-J shoulder; sparks and smoke emanated from the gashes and openings that Maxton1EA-349-H caused with it's unbreakable grip.

The compromised cyborg lifted Diana8U5-329-J's damaged form, then lifted it's own hand in order to destroy the damaged cyborg, when the girl started screaming.

Maxton1EA-349-H looked over at her, and the compromised cyborg dropped the damaged Diana8U5-329-J in order to continue it's sub-mission of retrieving the girl for the company.  Maxton1EA-349-H took the girl and formed a force shield around her to protect her from the flying metal and concrete from the robot battle.  The compromised robot ignored the damaged Diana8U5-329-J lying on the ground, and it's assistant robots fighting in the distance, and turned to leave.  Diana8U5-329-J grabbed Maxton1EA-349-H by the ankle, still trying to fulfill it's mission.

Maxton1EA-349-H pointed it's right arm at the damaged cyborg and fired a plasma shot at it, as the girl screamed again.  The compromised robot's scanners warned of two other cyborgs entering the area.  Maxton1EA-349-H turned and disappeared with it's quarry amidst the chaos and smoke.

The Professor's Vessel

The Professor's Vessel

Slight Summary 3:

The professor stared at the displays, and at the data that Sally had sent him.  After all of those years with Maxton1EA-349-H, it would seem that the cyborg would have to be defeated and destroyed.  Two others were on their way to do just that.  While staring at the data, he thought back at others in his employ, without which he wouldn't have known of the damage that could be perpetrated by the cyborg Maxton1EA-349-H, until after the disaster would have occurred.

The professor had many assistants in his employ.  Few of them could be trusted with special assignments, and of those, only two were truly trustworthy with anything and everything.  One was Sally, who was one of the professor's laboratory assistants.  The other was Gil, who was the mechanic and pilot of the professor's vessel.

Sally was misunderstood.  That is what her brother said on his sister's graduation day.  She graduated second to the last in her class, and wasn't expected to do much with her studies.  Being forgetful and a natural daydreamer, many of her classmates would joke as to what type of dog catcher's outfit she would wear as a career.

Poor Sally knew what they would say, and her instructors were often in on the cruel jokes.  Often, the professor would notice her weeping in the gardens that lined the southern edge of the campus.  It was there where he first took notice of her, and it was then when the professor realized that he had discovered a valuable, and potential part of his team.  Sally may not have been a stellar student, but she did have great potential.

On graduation day, the professor was given the opportunity to speak, as he did on every graduation day for the previous seventeen years.  On that day, he would choose one graduate that would be given the opportunity to work in his laboratories.  It was a prestigious moment for the graduate with the highest scores, and with the most potential.  It was a shining moment for the student who would stand and walk up onto the stage to shake the professor's hand and accept the internship amidst flashing cameras and video recording. 

On that day, he stunned the crowd by offering the position to Sally Wri, the daydreamer.  Working in the professor's robotics laboratories was a dream job for any student new to the working world.  The sight of Sally jumping up, un-snagging her gown from her chair, and hobbling her four-foot three and ninety-nine pound frame up onto the stage to accept the offer, brought open jaws and looks of disbelief across the small sea of assembled faces in the university theater.  Envy and anger could be seen hovering over the heads of many graduates and some instructors as well, but the professor had made his decision, and none would dare to question it.  

Needless to say, that moment ended all jokes and snickers from the graduate's class and instructors, and Sally had been working for the professor ever since.  She was not the head of the laboratory, that position was Clara's, but of all of the laboratory assistants, Sally was the one that the professor's truly trusted.

Gil was a mechanic.  It seemed that he was born to be a mechanic.  At an early age, he showed an interest in it, and his father, being a mechanic and pilot himself, proudly encouraged him.

Gil had been a stellar student, and he excelled at everything to do with repairing, modifying, and building machines.  When he first modified an aging plane and broke the sound barrier with it, most were in awe.  When he built his first vessel that could reach the ocean floor, he received accolades.  It was when he built the Sovereign, which would become the team's vessel, that the professor was personally impressed, for he knew that Gil's potential was just unfolding.

Gil was a master mechanic, and when the professor himself offered him a position, Gil jumped at it.  He became part of the team, and the only other trustworthy member at that time.

It was Gil and Sally who discovered that Maxton1EA-349-H had been contaminated, and that it now had a sub-mission, which was to retrieve the child, and to destroy the cyborg that protected her.  Unfortunately, the subtle signs of the contamination were discovered after the cyborg had been dispatched on it's assignment.

Maxton1EA-349-H had left for the intercept, and other cyborgs were on their way as well.  

The professor, accompanied by Sally Wri, and her little friend, Fitz-00-DJE-27, a very small catlike robot, strode quickly to the awaiting vessel.  "Ready to move, professor!" Gil's familiar voice boomed over the arid landscape that housed the professor's hidden laboratories; a place of wild dust storms and bleached bones.

The newly forming team were soon on their way to join the cyborgs James88032-N and Victor-4L-383B1K in confronting the eldest and most dangerous of cyborgs.

From a far distance, a figure sat in his chair and watched.  He watched through the eyes of the contaminated cyborg.

Maxton1EA-349-H

Maxton1EA-349-H

Slight Summary 2:

Maxton1EA-349-H was an original.  It was the second of seven successful experiments in living tissue/robotics, and it was also one of the first stable cyborgs which had seen action for over seventeen years.  It had saved the professor's life on two occasions, and had always returned from every assignment, as difficult as they may have been.  Maxton1EA-349-H could always be counted on to succeed; it was the last of it's generation.

When the second and third cyborg issues were released, Diana8U5-329-J and James88032-N being of that third generation, Maxton1EA-349-H was scheduled to be removed from action, disassembled, and it's organic components destroyed.  But Maxton1EA-349-H proved to be more than a mere part machine.  It proved itself to be the most resourceful, durable, and successful cyborg of any generation.

Maxton1EA-349-H did outlast the entire second issue, of which there were thirty two, as well as it's own generation of twelve, and several of the third generation.  It was not a surprise that the professor fought hard to keep Maxton1EA-349-H active.  It was a valued agent, and it had proven itself many times before.

But something had happened to the cyborg during it's last assignment.

Along with the cyborg Heracles00-4DU-3B9, which did not survive the mission, Maxton1EA-349-H was assigned to infiltrate and destroy one of the criminal company's robotic processing factories.  It was hidden on an island, and was nearing completion.  Once completed, it would have provided many dangerous compounds and robots that would be used against innocent people.

Accompanied by several armored assistants, the cyborgs accomplished the mission by destroying the factory, and all of it's incomplete robots.  Unfortunately, an unknown substance was released, destroying the biological portion of the cyborg Heracles00-4DU-3B9, and all but one of the assistants.  The final surviving assistant managed to stagger as far as the seaside beach, where he sent his report to the professor before expiring.

Of Maxton1EA-349-H, the damaged cyborg returned to base.

Physical repairs completed, bio-scans did not detect and unusual activity from the cyborg.  Although, an unusual signature had been detected by one of the laboratory assistants, who was later found expired in one of the base corridors before he could report.

Now, Maxton1EA-349-H had been sent on it's way to intercept the cyborg Diana8U5-329-J.  The third issue cyborg was carrying the child who harbored the final fifth genetic portion needed by the criminals to complete the biological control virus.  Diana8U5-329-J was also malfunctioning.

Unbeknownst to the others, Maxton1EA-349-H was no longer under the professor's control.  It had been compromised, and reassigned by the criminal company to destroy Diana8U5-329-J, and take the child.  Unbeknownst to Maxton1EA-349-H, James88032-N and Victor-4L-383B1K were also on their way… to destroy Maxton1EA-349-H.

Diana8U5-329-J

This is the first excerpt of a story that I am working on.  I suppose that it is not really an excerpt, but a slight summary of the story.  It is a story of science fiction.  It is another of those long-incomplete stories that have been gathering dust.  These days, I am still working on several stories at the same time.

Diana8U5-329-J

Slight Summary 1:

After the commotion that passed, security in the building had been increased.  The agent remained hidden for several days, and as silent as silence.  When Diana8U5-329-J had judged that it was time, the agent crept along the quiet corridors, and found the locked rooms.  Diana8U5-329-J used the materials that the professor had provided, and broke open the cell doors.

Behind them, lay the child that had been kidnapped by the criminals company; they intended to use her to complete their biological control virus.  She was the child that was missing.  The other four had already been 'consumed' in order to progress the first four stages.  The girl, the fifth and last component of the process, had been born with the genetic material that would complete and activate the virus.  Her father, the scientist that lamented having had assisted in the development of the virus, had to be destroyed.

No outsider could be allowed to live.

The evil corporation had eliminated him before he and the professor's assistants could escape the hidden mountain laboratories.  They eliminated him, and took the girl.  A surviving assistant managed to collect information, and notified the professor before he expired.  They could not be allowed to activate their virus.

With that, the professor decided to send three of his cyborgs to thwart the criminal company's intent.  He sent James88032-N to destroy the company's supply shipments, he sent Victor-4L-383B1K on a mission to a destroy a top manufacturing factory, and he sent Diana8U5-329-J on the mission to retrieve the girl from the company's laboratories.

Everything was going along as planned, until Diana8U5-329-J began malfunctioning in a way that the professor had hoped would not happen for some time.  The cyborg Diana8U5-329-J was beginning to process unprovided data.  As Diana8U5-329-J broke free from the building's security robots with the girl on her back, and as a result of damage received from the security robots, the cyborg began processing memories.

Images began to flood the cyborg's mostly mechanical brain.  They were images from a life near a beach, and they were faces from a forgotten past.

The force shield that Diana8U5-329-J had formed around the girl was fading, not from the damage, but from confusion.  For the first time since the cyborg's activation, it felt confusion.

The professor monitored Diana8U5-329-J, and it's 'confusion'.  If Diana8U5-329-J were to be compromised, then the cyborg would have to be destroyed, and the girl would have to be retrieved by another.

The professor sent a fourth cyborg to intercept Diana8U5-329-J, and if necessary, to destroy the cyborg.  He sent Maxton1EA-349-H.  Unfortunately, Maxton1EA-349-H had been contaminated, and the only assistant that knew it had perished before Maxton1EA-349-H had returned from it's last mission.

Edge of the Floating Cities

Ages after humans left the surface, the planet had finally healed itself.  The earth had finally reclaimed what it was before humanity, and had washed away it's many wounds.  The buildings were gone, the roads, monuments, and all other human markers that recorded a history of a destructive species no longer existed.

Many left the surface to escape massive pollution that was allowed and protected to corrode the planet.  They left to escape extreme hatred and uncontrolled violence that had plagued their kind since their beginnings.  They left to escape corporate greed and religious intolerance.

Aboard the massive multi-cities, humanity had become a species that chose to exist within their own technology.  Not all chose this, but those who did, survived to become new humans.  Those that remained on the surface, lived out their lives, but in time, become extinct.

Generations were born and passed their legacies to their descendants aboard the floating multi-cities.  Generations would work and contribute to the floating multi-cities; improving their technologies, perfecting their self sufficiency, and forgetting their own histories.  They were the great technological accomplishments that became the home of the new humans, and of the new human's many forms.

Over time, some of the multi-cities left the planet altogether.  They chose to orbit other planets in the solar system, and afterward, some of them chose to leave for the deep of space.  They would never return.

It had been several hundreds of thousands of years since anyone had set foot on the surface of the planet.  In all of that time, humans became different species; they were inadvertently modified by their own technologies and environments.  They were no longer joined to the planet.  Were one of them to return to the surface, that one would certainly perish quickly, as the new humans had no tolerance to the microscopic bacteria or other violent micro species that existed on the surface of the planet.

It was true that billions of souls would never even seen the light of the sun, the feel of a breeze, or the sight of a mountain or forest from under the shade of a tree.  Of the very few that lived near the surface of the floating cities, even fewer wondered about their ancestral home.  Even fewer than that cared or imagined life outside of their sterile world.  New humanity had become long-lived and sterile.  They had become a species intertwined with their mechanical inheritance.

Some had become more cybernetic than others.  Some had remained completely organic, but their features had adapted to their environments.  Some new humans were taller, thinner and weaker, as they embraced the sciences and knowledge.  Others who had left for other places in the solar system would adapt in different ways.  One floating city became the home of new humans that had become no more than humanoid memories in mechanical bodies.

There were many hundreds of thousands of these floating multi-cities, and over time, they would continue to advance and multiply and venture outward.  They were worlds of their own, and in time, only a fraction of them would float above the green and blue planet that had been the place of their birth.

One day, one of the cities would fail and it would fall to the earth.  There it would rest, until the planet would break it down and reclaim it's elements, and the other multi-cities would continue.

How long would the others remain before leaving the green and blue planet forever? What would become of the new humans?

Only the ages would tell.

The Lost Stair

Happy times! I developed this image on an old Dell that is no longer around.  This complex image crashed that computer several times before the PC finally completed the render.  When that Dell PC finally kicked it, I thought that it took this image with it.

I did lose the original work file, but somehow a copy of the final image wound up on a backup DVD.  Remember everyone, back up all of your work.  O.k. then, here's a little Flash Fiction that I just thought up for the image...

The Lost Stair

I listen to the old soldiers some times.  In fact, several of us hay bailers like to sit and listen to their old war stories.  It is interesting when they come along from the small road towns where they live.  They come into our town to sit under the shade trees and talk about their exploits.

Most of the time, they reminisce about old battles and the defeat of past dictators and their armies.  I have to say, that at times we sit there and drink in their words.

An old soldier in particular, fought in the struggle against the white banners; those were the ones that tried to take this very town for themselves, as well as several others.  They came from across the mountains.  As a young man, the old soldier saw much struggle, and he was there in the most dangerous of battles.

One particular story that he would tell, was the one about how the general of the white banners dabbled in forbidden things.

The old soldier himself did not learn the story for himself as an eyewitness, but he learned it from others who had been assigned to the task in the raiding of the enemy general's mountain fortress, and one in particular who lived to tell the tale to his comrades.  That raider learned it from a captured enemy guard who had no issue in telling it, as he himself was glad that the mountain fortress had been conquered, and it's master, defeated.

As the story goes, and this was told by the raider who learned it from the captured guard, the general of the white banners was planning an assault against our combined forces.  The war was waning, and badly for the white banners.

One night, as the general and his high confidants and advisors planned their last assault, an argument broke out amongst them.  Some sided with the argument that their final push was far too weak, and that it would be best to retreat and gather their strength.  Others sided with the general, and thought that retreating would spur our forces to follow them into the mountains and utterly defeat the failing white banners.

Soon after the argument began, it ended.  Those that did not follow the general, stormed out of the room.  Those that supported him, were thrown out.  The general and his most trusted men remained, and with the few candles that had not gone out; our forces had successfully shut the power from the area.

The captured guard said that he watched as the men stormed out of the room and disappeared down the stairs at the end of the hallway.  He watched as the supporting advisors also left the room, and disappeared through a door at the opposite end of the hallway.

Hours passed, and the guard said that as he was beginning to doze off, he heard steps coming up the stairs at the far end of the hallway.  He said that a figure dressed in black, came up the stairs, turned, and walked to the general's door.  He watched as the figure opened the door, and entered; he closed the door behind him.

Well, the guard said that something dark must have happened in that room, for in a few minutes, the general came out.  He locked the door behind him, and turned to leave.  As he did, he glanced over at the guard, and said: "Victory will be our destiny."  With that, the general walked to the end of the hallway, and down the stairs, shouting: "It is our destiny to win! We will win because we are the white banners!"

The guard said that he never saw the figure dressed in black leave the room, or ever since.  It did not matter, as the confidence that the general received, made him give the order to join all of his remaining forces, and attack.  Needless to say, the general and the white banners were soundly defeated.  They were utterly and completely destroyed.

The general himself, limped back, bloodied and broken.  He and his surviving advisors managed to make it back to the mountain stronghold.  It did not take long for our forces to reach the unprotected stronghold, and burn it to the ground.  The general and his few surviving men perished in the chaos.  The ruins of the stronghold remain to this day.

Whatever the figure dressed in black told the general to spur him forward, none will ever know.  Undoubtedly, the figure saw the general's desperation, and saw the opportunity do deceive him into an agreement, and with no intention in helping him in any type of victory.  The figure told the general that he would return to his fortress after the last great battle was fought, but the figure neglected to tell him that he would return in defeat, battered and broken, and that he would be destroyed in his own fortress.

It is said by the scant few that dare to travel through the mountains at night, that they can hear the general and his doomed advisors still trapped in their crumbled fortress, where they remain forever.

The Poor Victim

Where is everybody?

They told us to stay on the far side of the lake.  They told us all to leave before dark.  They told us not to go into the woods, and they certainly told us not to go through the glade, but none of us knew why.  They told us that the little abandoned house in the glade was not to be disturbed.  Sometimes, I just don't understand people.  When I saw that all of you left me, I was disappointed.

Hah! some brave friends that I have.

The last that I saw of you, was Lana's hair as you all ran through the bushes.  Well, I suppose that I'm the brave one.  Yea! Let's get that straight!  I'm the brave one, and I'm the only one that actually went into the little house!

I looked around, and like they told us, the house was abandoned.  There was nothing in that house but a chair and that strange glowing rock on it.  Remember that little glowing rock that they told us about? Yea, it was there, and now it was mine!

After I left the house, I went after you.  Soon after that, I saw you; Toby and Lana, I saw you both.  I saw you too, Jeremy! You're all chickens! That's right, chickens! bok! bok!

I saw you as you looked back at me, and then you all turned and ran off as fast as you could.  It's not as if I had cooties or anything.

Hey! I took the rock from the house, but after I ran after you, I tripped and lost it.  I ran after you, and here I am, back at the clearing! Hey! Come back!

Monsters? What monsters? I'm telling you, there really isn't anything in these little woods that can hurt you! You know that, right?

Hey, come back!

Dust Bowl Era

Somewhere during the dust bowl era, which was caused by decades of extensive farming and severe drought, an event like the one in this scene tool place.  I am not saying that this particular image was taken during those years, but a poor animal wandering beside a track, and with an abandoned house behind it must have taken place quite often.  It must have been a very harsh time.

Face in Murky Waters

Several decades ago, a group of scientists experimented with the effects of gene manipulation.  They employed four transients to take part in their experiments.  Soon after, the city was plagued by several unsolved disappearances.

It seems that the poor subjects had begun to search out 'alternative' nourishment.

When a fisherman and his daughter came across one of the subjects making a meal of a horse, they ran for their lives.  The subject would have caught them, were it not for the truck that ran the subject over.  Before their very eyes, the subject deteriorated, and soon was reduced to a greenish pile of ashes.

Weeks later, another subject was caught attempting to attack a local librarian as she was locking the library for the night.  Her screams alerted several men in a bar, which immediately went after the shadowy figure.  They chased the subject as far as the dock, where it jumped into the dark waters, and disappeared from sight.

In the distance, they noticed two more shadowy figures drop down into the waters.

Reports of more violent attacks came more frequently.  The locals began patrolling the areas at night, and groups of armed men would go out in search of the 'fish men', as they were called.  People that had escaped the fish men's clutches had described the croaking, and clicking, and the swampy smell that protruded from the slimy creatures.

When the scientists were found deceased, and their laboratory destroyed, the locals decided that it was time to put an end to the slimy fish men.

They took weapons, and went out in search of them.  Soon after, some of the men found the fish men scrounging around in the local woods.  The locals confronted the slimy fish men, who began fighting back.   As the fight continued, the noise alerted more of the locals.  As they arrived, they found the men sprawled on the ground, and the three fish men gone.

Some of the men that went in search at the dock, saw the fish men jump into the water.  Startled, one of them went back to alert the others.  When all of the locals arrived at the dock, they poured oil into the water, and set it ablaze.

The locals remained long after the fires went out, and into the early morning.

Since that night, the slimy fish men were never seen again.  Most of the locals believed that they had been destroyed trying to escape the flames, and others believed that they perished under the waters by all of the objects and dynamite that had been thrown in.

Years later, the fish men had been mostly forgotten, until the day when a tourist diver came across a greenish, and slime-covered figure lurking in a nearby bay.

Needless to say, nobody believed his story.

The Flamenco Dancer

It was in old Barcelona where he saw her for the first time.  After a business meeting that had lasted for hours, he went out into the night.  Not feeling particularly tired, he decided to wander into a local establishment for something to drink.  There she was.

She turned and flowed on the stage as she danced.  Perhaps she reminded him of someone.  Perhaps she had been part of his life at some point.  But how?  He had never seen her before, yet after a few moments, she had become an obsession.

She danced for a time in her native dress, and to her native music.  She flowed and twirled, and he watched her through the smoke, the hushed conversations, the tiny candles, and the dim light.

During his time in old Barcelona, he would stand at his hotel room window, and he would look out at the old city.  He would stare at the distant lights, which became the tiny candles, and see her fleeting face in them.  She haunted him in his memory, as she danced through the shadows and smoke.

After his last scheduled meeting in old Barcelona, he quickly made his way back to the local establishment.  Another dancer was performing.  He paid for an extra night at the hotel where he was staying, and missed his scheduled flight back home.  On that extra night, a local guitar player played in the local establishment.

He remained in old Barcelona an extra week, in hopes of seeing her again, in hopes of watching her dance again, but other acts followed one after the other.  Inquiring about the dancer, not the barmaids, nor even the establishment's owner could answer.

The following night, he sat in his plane seat, and stared out at the old city while the plane began to rise.  Throughout the city, the lights became tiny candles again.  In his memory, he watched her as she twirled and turned amongst the shadows and smoke on the stage in that local establishment in old Barcelona.

Just a simple copper lamp

Just a simple copper lamp.  It is so much easier to achieve semi-realism with objects, even down to the fake plastic wood base.  Realistic-looking skin is always so much harder to achieve.  It is just one of those difficult things.  I built this lamp in Hexagon and rendered in Vue.

Sword of the Spirit

At times, we could see the battle atop the distant mountain.  We rode in our air balloon, and that is how we saw.  We fought the wind that pushed us about, and the cinders that threatened to send us crashing down into the treacherous land far below.

The spirit that appeared from the southeast, and strode northward, was there.  He fought fearlessly, for he was spirit, and his enemy was all that was evil.  We knew that it was he, and we knew that only he, and those who were pure, could tolerate the deadly lands of the fire mountain and it's master.

Now, the battle raged.

Far below, we could see the evil minions as they stirred and raged.  They looked up at their master, and they screamed and beat their battle weapons against their battered armor.  They shot arrows up at us, but for our fortune, we were far too distant for their reach.

To the west of them, we spotted the paladins.  They, who were the brightest and purest of heroes, had arrived, and with their swords and spears, they engaged the evil minions far beneath us.

Our air balloon rocked, and we steadied ourselves, while thunder shook the world above us.

The battles raged.

Vile winged beasts arrived in support of the minions, yet the mighty paladins held their own.  The fearless heroes cut a swath through the raging hordes, and lay waste to their commanders.  Fires and chaos and the sight of the unbreakable force, struck fear in the hearts of the evil minions, and many of them fled.

They turned and fled through the fires, over their broken contraptions, over their fallen compatriots, and they disappeared into the darkness of the dark land.

The paladins cheered their victory, as far above, the last battle waned.

We watched through the rising smoke.  Thunder and lightning shook the world, as the spirit battled the evil master of the mountain.  We watched as the spirit struck down the evil master of the land; it's ruined form fell down and burst into flame as it struck the jagged mountainside.

It's form fell onto the battlefield, and the paladins surrounded it in victory.

We looked back up to the top of the mountain where the fatal strike had been dealt.  We looked about while steadying ourselves in our air balloon.

We could not see the spirit.

Soon enough, we had to return to safer fields in order to land.

It was years after, when I travelled through the icy pass, that I heard stories of the soldier's sword.  It was called the soldier's sword by a shepherd that had witnessed a man of stone pass by that way.  The shepherd and his friends followed the man up into the pass.

They said that the man made his way up to the furthest point, unsheathed his sword, and struck it down into the rock.  After the man of stone had left, the shepherd and his friends attempted to withdraw the sword, but could not.  They called him the man of stone, but I knew that it was the unnamed spirit.

I went in search for the sword.

In time, I found it for myself.  I found the sword where the man of stone, or the spirit as we knew him, had driven it into the stone of the icy pass.  The battered helmet lay beside it.  I tried to withdraw the sword myself, but I could not.  I tried to lift the helmet, but I could not.  I realized that they were to remain there forever.  As I turned to leave, I could see the top of the distant mountain where the last battle had taken place.

It was no longer veiled in fire and smoke.

Perhaps, one day the spirit would return.

Perhaps, when evil would shroud the land once more, and man is once more found unworthy to take up the sword, then the spirit would return to free the land and it's peoples again.

Keeping Your Industrial Cities Functional

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For those deep space travelers who would rather visit the furthest known and distant civilizations, then you can do so.  Visit the distant ice systems or the most dangerous of ethereal planets.  Examine life on the deepest oceans on the most massive of planets, and the densely packed life forms living in the cold of space.

For the last 417 years, standard Earth time, we have maintained the upmost in quality in atmospheric and technologically pleasant environments for our customers.  It is our commitment to provide the finest in inter-universal and time traveling adventure.  We strive to better our methods for your benefit and comfort.

A special note:

For those of our customers who have spotted members of our workforce as they perform their work, our bio-humanoids work constantly to maintain and upgrade our facilities.  They are not alive.  Do not be alarmed, as our maintenance teams ensure proper function of our complex city-size vessels.

Mountain of the Fire King

No man can go there.  Even taking one step into that cursed land would doom any with the courage.  The air there is poisonous.  The cursed ground itself would burn the stoutest reinforced boot, and lead vapors that peal the very skin away to dust.

It is a most dangerous place, and the master of that land is said to bear skin of molten earth.  He is a foul beast, and he is cruel beyond measure.  He commands evil spirits that take the bones of those who have fallen there, to themselves.

Then I saw the soldier himself.  As I fled this way, I saw him with my own eyes.

I saw him! As you must have, I saw him, or I should say, it.

So, I tell you, that the stories are true.  None in this world were worthy enough; not you, or I, or any else in this tavern.  None bore the faith and courage of heroes past, and so, that thing was chosen.

I was there when it fought the molten demons in the desert.  Yes, and I was burned for glimpsing the sight of it, and I turned away to feel the ashes on my face.  After, I heard stories of it's further exploits as it made it's way to the fiery mountain.

Many did not believe it, for they had not seen.

I was there.

And now, It was said that the thing had ventured forth within the very cursed lands of fire.  What is it, you ask? If not a man of flesh, then what is it that took up the sword? They say that it is a spirit.  They say that it is a spirit which has accepted and taken up the cause, and it was given a legendary sword.  It has taken up the cause to rid the world of the king of fire, and it was given a helmet of heroes past.

I say to you, I do not doubt it.  I do not doubt it, for what man can withstand the minions of the king of fire?

But I lament, for none of us, and none in this world were worthy of it.

A cover for skittering things

"There they hide.  In the dark of their treacherous webbed caves, and the moist rocky crevices that line the mountain's base in the gloomy woods.  They hide, and they wait.  they wait, but not for rodents or reptiles that wander the woods and the edge of the bog lands.  They wait for us." the trapper said in a monotonous tone.

"They wait for us," his friend added; the light of the campfire turning and twisting his features in the dark.

"They lie and they wait, and when an unfortunate soul wanders near, the dark spidery things skitter out to catch them, they poison them, and then drag them back into the darkness to be devoured.  It is what they do." the old trapper said, relighting his pipe.

"It is what they do," his friend said, "and whether is was for greed or for ignorance, none ever see the poor unfortunate souls again!" his friend said, glancing over at the open window of the hut.

~~~

This image was going to be the cover art for an upcoming 'creepy' story ebook that I am working on, but it seemed too dark, and not 'intricate' enough.  After some re-thinking, I decided to scrap it and start again.  I may use it for something or maybe just delete it.  The new cover image that I am building is to be much more 'spidery', a bit more colorful, yet subdued colorful, and much more detailed.

What do you think? Does this image seem appropriate enough for a story about 'skittering' things?

Happy Easter

Happy Easter to all of my Christian family.

A Typical Day

He found them in the king's castle, and chased them when nobody was looking.  He found them hiding in the haystacks, and he chased them until he lost them amongst the thorny bushes.  He found them wandering by the riverbank, and nearly caught them until they jumped in and swam across the river.  He found them sitting next to a campfire deep in the forest, and lost them in the gloom.

Boy, after all of this time one would think that a big bad wolf would have better things to do than chase three tasty-looking pigs on a daily basis.

One would think that he was obsessed.  But if you ask him, he would say that he chases a certain red-capped little french girl and her granny on the weekends.

To the poor little pigs, it was just another day in their lives.  This time, Mr. Big Bad's sidekick, Mr. Weasel, joined in the chase.

"Pork Chops, Pork Skins, Pork Cutlets, Flambe de Pork… Boy, it sure sounds delicious, doesn't it, friend Wolf?" Mr. Weasel asked.

"Yes, friend Weasel!" Mr. Big Bad Wolf replied, "today it will be different, and we will dine well."

"Yes, yes!" Mr. Weasel replied while licking his lips, "I am sure tiring of sour berries and roots."

Friend of Many Friends

"This is the life!" I said to the others.

"Yes it is!" said one of our troop.

"Yes it is!" said the others.

We travel north to a new land from an old one that we want to forget, and we collect others of our kind as we go.  Our adventures on our long road are many to retell, and those that we remember in farther days, we shall share with our next generations in times to come.

We shall tell them of the red swamplands, and of the bears that we found as we passed through there with our lives.  We shall tell them of the woodlands, and of the dangerous wolves that we fought there.  Of the men that we encountered along the long roads, those stories may be the most dramatic.

We shall also tell them of the delicious field chickens that we found in the sunny and warm pollen valleys, and of the wild roots that sustained us as we crossed the snow and ice of the frozen mountain passes, with skinny bones and cold feet.

Yes, we had many adventures.  We became good friends as our group grew, and we were sad when others of us went their own way, or remained in the valleys and prairies with others of our kind that lived there.

It is a great and wide world, and it is wild with adventure and new lands to explore.

One day, I myself shall return to visit many of those lands that we crossed on our long road.

Spotted Brown Stripe - Friend of many friends.

Just a relaxing Spring scene.

This is just a peaceful scene with a wrongly placed moon.  Yes, I know that the moon isn't in it's proper place, and in the wrong phase, but I wanted it in the scene for dramatic reasons.

I built this scene six years ago, and posted it here to give it a new life.  I am inspired to re-build it.

It doesn't have a story behind it, it is just a relaxing Spring scene.

"The Steps of Arae" Illustration

This image is part of a series of illustrations that I built for a story that has remained incomplete for approximately five years.  I keep pushing off some stories in order to work on others.  I have so many of those these days.  At first, I thought that this story was one of the many that were lost in the great flash drive smushings of 2009.  I lost many complete, incomplete, and story ideas.  It was such a tragedy.

Luckily, this one and others were saved elsewhere.

As you can tell, this one is a fantasy set in an unnamed land.  I usually do not like to use common names and places in my stories, so this story is not set anywhere as in ancient Europe or anything.  Maybe it took place on an ancient land that only existed only until the last time that the continents moved, or centuries before then.

Oh yes, the title of this illustration is not the title of the story.  In the story, Arae is the name of a land where a dark fortress stood.

Well, eventually I will complete the illustrations, and more importantly, the story itself.  With those illustrations, it will make for a pretty substantial ebook size.

We'll see what happens.

p.s., if people are interested in this story, and what it is about, add a comment.  Perhaps I will put aside my current project and complete and release this one next.

G

Monarch Hill

"The monarchs that come here in the summertime have been known to blanket the long grass and wild carrot of these rolling hills.  What a sight it is!"

That is what Maya Mulberry, the pony rancher would say.

We asked about her when we went to the Honey Festival.  The long-time residents of the area said that she was part of a caravan that was heading north.  The residents said that the caravan stopped in the town for the night before moving on.

Well, as fate would dictate, the caravan left early the next day.  Unfortunately, the child Maya was left behind.  One of the nursemaids found her, and immediately notified the watch.  The town elders sent a rider in search of the caravan.

The rider found the caravan, and those who led it.  He informed them of the child that was left behind.  When the rider returned, he gave a letter to the elders that had been written by the leaders of the caravan:

"Dear good people,

We are survivors from the lands in the southeast.  We were besieged by raiders that would continually attack our little village.  Over time, the raiders became more brazen, and eventually started to do in our people and take over their homes.  We had a council in secret, and decided that it would be best to leave.

By cover of night, we packed our things and left.  Some of us returned to the abandoned village and set fire to every building.  If we weren't going to be left alone, then the raiders weren't going to have what we had built.  The last of us said that he saw the raiders return to find smoldering buildings and ruined fields.

Of the child, we do not know who she belonged to.  It was possible that her kin were victims of the raiders."

The long-time residents said that it did not take long for the people of the town to become smitten with the child, and that she was immediately claimed by a couple that still lives in the town.

Maya had become a member of the town, and it was clear that she was beloved by everyone.

The long-time residents also said that she married and moved to a newly founded town north of Monarch Hill.  They said that she lives there with her husband and three children, and often comes down and visits her parents and the town.

Perhaps, we will visit the pony ranch one day.

Forgotten Room

When the cursed prince reigned in his kingdom in the circled mountains, the nobles did conspire amongst themselves to destroy him.  They risked their lives to do so, for amongst those of his family before him, he was the most evil.  They risked themselves so to be free of him.  The evil prince survived many attempts at his life; in doing so, he obtained many wounds, and thus, consulted dark beings to heal him and to extend his life.

The evil man retaliated against the nobles and the people in his kingdom by many vicious means.  He used the power of warlocks and other dark beings for his own protection.  He surrounded his castle with fallen soldiers and creeping things that would haunt the streets of the surrounding towns and villages in the night.

As time passed, many adventurers offered their skills to the nobles, and ventured into the prince's castle.  It was said that many entered the shrouded place, but none escaped to claim the rewards offered by the nobles.  At times, several adventurers entered the dark woods surrounding the castle, but as it always went, none ever returned.

Brave companies of men who ventured as far as the outskirts of the dark woods claimed to see bones strewn about the trees, and the silent forms of dark things waiting amongst them; they beckoned the brave to enter.  At times, the prince himself would come forth, and lead great armies of fallen soldiers to raze towns and lay siege to kingdoms.

He would then return triumphant to his dark castle, and dark laughter would be heard in the fog-covered woods.

Of the few adventurers that did manage to enter the towers, none would never return, nor their souls escape, for the evil prince had more than evil minions to wander the hallways and chambers of his castle.  One such adventurer was heard saying: "Hold my ale, and my gold reward ready, for I shall return with the prince's blood on my sword!"

Waiting for the Good Fish

Most days, we go about our business as we do.  We wake, prepare ourselves, go to work, come home and spend time with the family for a short time before going to bed.  Others have their lives, and they spend it as they do.

Most days, we neglect to focus on other things; like the bird that sings in the tree as we prepare ourselves for a new day.  We do not pay attention to the flowers that face the sun, or of their scent as we rush out of the door.

We should take the time to appreciate the world and those around us.  While we work away at our assigned position, the world is passing us by, and before we know it, our gray hairs begin to outnumber our colored ones.

More than being just an image of two children fishing with a pole that may likely never catch anything, this is also an image that represents two children that wish that their father was with them rather than at work.

It is too soon when they grow and go their own way, and the fishing pole that never caught anything sits propped up in the garage collecting dust.

The Goat Tree

The following story is taken from real life.  It is my own account of a event that I actually experienced as a child.  To this day, when I think about it, It still gives me the freak-outs.  I certainly have no explanation for it.  It is just something that happened, and cannot be explained.  Well, here it goes...


The Goat Tree:

As a child, we would visit family far in southern Texas.  Although I haven't been there in decades, I remember a particular path that joined our relative's house, and the main road that led into town.  In that part of the land, and in those days, much of it was still undeveloped and so, much of it was still wild land.  There were wolves there, some wild horses, and wild boar there that could take your leg if you weren't careful. 

Anyway, as I remember, we would often sit before a campfire while the older family members would tell stories.  One night, after everyone had gone to bed, I awoke to go to the outhouse.  I was walking along the small path, when I heard a goat bleating.  Well, it may not seem like something that would be scary to you, but you must understand that I was about eight years old at the time.

I knew that our family did not have goats, and that wild goats weren't common there.  I remember looking around the flat land and seeing nothing.  The only thing close by was a dead tree.  I started walking again, and again I heard the goat bleating as if it were no more than five yards from me.  There was nothing there, and for an eight year old, I can say that it was a terrifying experience.

Well, I kept that experience to myself for some years.  One day, I mentioned it to an elderly relative who used to live in that area.  When he told me what old dead tree was used for, well I was freaked.  He said that when he was a boy, he remembered that relatives and neighbors would tie goats to that tree for "meat processing", and that it was known amongst his childhood friends as the goat tree.  He said that he didn't like going near that tree because he would hear things there. 

The tree itself has been long gone by many decades now.

It may not seem all that scary to you, but to me, it was a frightening childhood experience that haunts me, and remains unexplained to this day.

Inspired by Vermeer

I was in a contest once where basically the rule was to take a painting by a famous artist and try to reproduce it using 3d software.  This image was inspired by Jan Vermeer's Girl with a Golden Earring.

The figure itself is a Poser character.  I built the headdress and the earring myself.  It was a very interesting project.  I imported it into Vue, and rendered the scene.  I added the Scratch post work in PhotoShop.

Excerpt of: Mr. Cobbler's Paradise

The elderly man looked angry, as he turned to stare at the ceiling.  After a few moments, he looked at the younger patient again.

“Who are you?” the elderly man asked, “are you one of those people looking to sue someone?  I heard that some people look for crime victims to make money off of other people or companies.  I don’t like that!”

The younger man could feel anger in the elderly crime victim’s voice.  Clearly, he had heard, and perhaps even seen many negative things that opportunistic criminals do in order to exploit the elderly.

“I’m sorry sir, I’m not a, uh, ‘ambulance chaser’ or anything like that.  I’m just a victim like you are.  I’m just a man that was shot for walking along.” the younger man said, “I just arrived in this city, and already I hate it.”

The elderly man looked at him; the response from the young stranger was something that he could relate to.  

“So you were shot too, eh?” the elderly man said, “I was shot in my shoulder by some stupid jerk.  He was probably on a drug or something like all of the other junkies like him are!”

The young man listened.

“Why does this city have to be so cold, and so full of useless killers, druggies, hookers, and all of that?  You can’t even go to the corner store to get something, without one of them pushing you, demanding money, and smelling of stink!  They’re everywhere! There are so many of them!” the elderly man said, angry frustration in his voice.

The two men’s attention was caught by an altercation at the far end of the hallway.  Frustrated with waiting, one of the other patients stood, and walked to the doors at the far end of the hallway.  He pushed at the doors, and looked in.

Mr. Cobbler's Paradise

I have released my latest ebook: Mr. Cobbler's Paradise.

"Mr. Cobbler's Paradise" is a story that takes place in a hospital, and in a crowded hospital hallway in particular.  An elderly crime victim is brought into the noisy hospital and placed on a gurney.  As he waits silently for his turn, a young reporter, who unfortunately is also a crime victim, starts to make conversation.

Soon, the young reporter decides that the elderly patient would make for a good interview.

The story that the elderly man tells is one of remembrance, sorrow, joy, anger, pain, love, and loss.

It is a story that takes place in the big dirty city.

A "Dangerous Situation" project

I built this 3D image for an artist's challenge depicting "a dangerous situation."  It was one of my earliest projects.  The only changes that I made for this upload was the addition of the smoky environment, and the application of a filter to add detail.

The "endangered" adventurer was actually a time traveler that had wandered into a dangerous situation in a strange time and place.  She actually went in search of a colleague that had gone to the same place in search of something, and who had not returned.

It would make for an interesting book cover.

The Bio Overseer's thoughts

"Ah, good! We have another one, and this one shows even more promise!" the bio overseer said to himself as he watched the scientists examine the specimen of the hybrid species that they had developed long before.  It has only been a small fraction more than twenty million years since we developed this hybrid."

"They were perfectly compatible with the planet, much more so than we were.  For centuries, they served us well.  They were excellent resource collectors, and now I see now that they have begun to evolve again.  Such a short amount of time, and some of them have already shown biological compatibility." the overseer said.

"Despite their greed, prejudices, and other shortcomings, this sub-species may be what we need.  It has been some time, but I believe that their molecular structures shall serve us again!" he said as he watched.

When the primary search vessels discovered the somewhat toxic planet, it was considered just another planet with primitive life.  When the vast amount of resources were discovered by chance, the small planet became the focus of a newly developed collection project.

The visitors quickly discovered the toxicity of the planet to their biology, and developed special protective clothing for their workers.  Over time, conflict arose from the working classes over the fact that they no longer wanted to perform the dangerous work of stripping the planet of valuable resources.  This led to bloodshed between the working class, who had become wealthy, and those who benefitted from their work.

In the end, it was agreed that a new native species would be developed with a contribution of the visitor's own genetics, to produce a hybrid that would be better adapted to the planet itself, be intelligent, and would become a slave species that would perform the menial and dangerous work of mining valuable resources.

"Soon, the time will come when these creatures will serve us again," the bio overseer whispered to himself, "soon we will collect the better evolved ones, re-engineer them and produce a variety of species.  They shall be specialized for mining various planets, and they shall be compatible with their new environments."

"Such is our way of ever expanding our kind across the universe, and using the resources of the universe in order to do so!"

Why Me?

"Just a few days of babysitting, and I can pay my rent," Rie thought to herself, "the park, the petting zoo, the back yard, how hard could it be?"

Mr. and Mrs. didn't believe in television, they were more of the "outside" type of people.  The poor girl had never babysat before, and being between work, she took the position.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs, I'll take care of the kiddies while you go to work," Rie said cheerfully.  Mr. and Mrs. looked at each other, and smiled.  "She's the one!" Mrs. said, and Mr. agreed.

The thought of why their parents went through babysitters like water did not pass through her mind.  Rie's only thoughts were of making a good impression, doing the job, and paying the rent.

When the first child, the shy one, stood at the door, Rie was pleased.

"This is going to be easy," Rie thought.

When the other three, the more rambunctious ones ran through the door and encircled Rie, she almost jumped out of her boots.

"O.k. then," Mrs. said, "we're off."

With that, the front door closed, and Rie was alone with the four children.

"What will we do first?" one asked.

"Will we eat breakfast at Poofy Bear's Restaurant first?" asked another.

Another ran through the door, and the fourth began twirling around.

"I like pancakes!" the fourth said, "I like jelly!"

Rie looked around, and realized that being a babysitter may not be as easy as she thought.

After breakfast at Poofy Bear's, the five went to the petting zoo.  After the petting zoo, they went to the park.  A scraped knee, a brushing of bird feathers from hair, a chasing of a cat, and finally getting one of the children down from a tree later, it was time to eat lunch.

Finally, it was time to go home and wait for the arrival of Mr. and Mrs..

Rie was exhausted, as the four children played on the swings in the backyard.

"There was never a time when I had that much energy!" Rie thought to herself, "and it was only the first day!"

Mr. and Mrs. came in through the gate, and noticed the children playing and Rie slumped into a wooden chair.

"Ah, I see that everything is just fine!" he said, "I can tell that the children really like you."

The children saw Mr. and Mrs., and the four ran towards them.

"Is Rie going to come back tomorrow?" one asked.

"Will we go back to the petting zoo tomorrow?" asked another.

Rie wiped her brow.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she thought to herself, "well, I guess that it'll pay the rent."

Tempestuous Ashen Planet

It took them thirty-seven years to get there.  Most said that it was to be a costly project, and such resources would have been better served elsewhere.  There were always two sides to every argument.

The day that the group set out on their long assignment, they said their farewells, for it would be that they would never see their families again.  It was a project not only for exploration, but one that could provide a new home, for the planet had shown signs of failing.

The seven explorers and their three robotic companions left the planet, and all that they had known.  They were on course for a distant planet; one that could provide a new life for their species.

It was a long voyage.  It was one that had it's share of risks, and dangerous situations.  Many times, their little exploration vessel suffered damage, attacks from space-born creatures, and other deadly encounters that exist everywhere from one solar system to another.

During the long travel, the group lost one companion to infection while collecting necessary resources within an asteroid field, and three others to a solar flare and it's radioactive effects.  It was to be expected.  They lost one robotic companion as two of them collected biological material that was necessary to produce valuable fuel for the explorers.

When the battered vessel arrived at the distant planet, the four surviving explorers found quite a discovery.

It was a planet of ash.  It was a planet of burned material that had formed from a long extinguished supernova that had occurred at some time in the distant past.  Gigantic spires jutted up from the highly alkaline seas, and within those, a strange teeming of life forms that had evolved within it's depths.

Strange poisonous clouds lined the skies in stranger formations, and huge spheres floated amongst them.  They provided highly corrosive rains, that wore away at the spires and other formations that continually jutted upwards into the ashen planet's alkaline skies.

Five moons shot around the planet so quickly, that caused the most turbulent of seas on most of the planet's surface.  Great monstrous creatures that had evolved from the smallest of life forms lumbered across the hostile surface; their monotonous voices and their massive forms caused fierce rumblings across a far distance from where they slowly moved across the ever-changing continents.

The four surviving explorers noted all of this.  They explored more of the violent planet, and discovered even more.  They looked at each other, and after a few moments, they gazed to each other.

"They said that we would fail.  They said that our quest was one for fools.  They said that we would perish long before we reached this planet.  What we say, is that now, at last, we have discovered our new beautiful home."  They said to each other, as they sent back signals to their failing planet, in hopes that soon many vessels loaded with settlers may make their way to their new home.

Telling ghost stories

"Do you remember the one about the windmill that used to stand on the hill?" she asked, as the wind blew leaves and fog across the inn's reinforced windows.

"Of course," he replied, glancing at the windows, "although, that one was way before our time."

The wood in the fireplace crackled, startling the two as they sat near it.

"What about the one that used to haunt the slate caves near the fallen trees; you know, the one that chased the cart makers when they were young, and would do so every time that they passed with supplies?" she asked.

"Yes, I heard that one too," he replied, "that was a good one.  I remember visiting that turn in the road when we came home from school once."

"It seems that we've heard all of them," he added, "we even heard the ones from before our own time that the elders tell every night here in the inn."

They glanced over at the elders who were sitting further from the fireplace.

The two spoke on about the local wood ghosts, mountain shadows, and wispy apparitions that seemed to plague the townsfolk and passing travelers in the old mountain land.

"Well, you know, that other people used to live here, and that they had their own lives to live.  It makes sense that they would love this land so much, that even after they were gone, they wouldn't want to leave." she said, having taken the candle from his hand.  "They seem to like to make themselves known to anyone, especially to those who are alone in the wild."

"Yes, I believe it.  But, I wouldn't go out after dark if I were you, not even with a candle.  It would be too easy for a wispy ghost to blow it out, stand an inch from your face, and say: Boo!"

Why us?

"I'm glad that they're gone!" the poor green frog said, favoring his left flipper that had become a target for a thrown empty can.  "Those noisy creatures with their clompy feet, and their annoying laughs, they were so irritating!  Things were much more quiet and peaceful before they came along."

The poor green frog's little friends sat next to him on the riverbank.

"I agree!" said a smaller yellow frog, "nobody used to come around to pollute the river with bottles and cans and half eaten ash-smelling burned meat.  Bleh!"

"I agree!" said a reddish blue frog, "things were much nicer back in the old days.  There wasn't anyone to drive away the juiciest flies with stinky smoke."

The poor green frog noticed a carton of something float by.  It snagged itself against a branch for a while before breaking free and floating away on the current.  Moments later, an empty can, not much unlike the one that had been thrown at him, followed it along.

"Phew!" the small reddish blue frog said, "I smell smoke.  Those annoying creatures are around here again."

The three frogs sighed in disappointment.

"Maybe it's time for us to move further up the river where we'll find peace!" the green frog stated.

The others agreed.

So off they went, the three little friends.

They passed through hills and wide fields.  They crossed dirt roads and hopped through thickets of bramble and abandoned houses covered with spiny vines.  They rested on mossy stones in the evening, and feasted on various insects during the hazy days of their long voyage.

Eventually, the three friends found a quiet place further up the river and in the deep woods.

"At last!" said the green frog.

"At last!" said the others.

"Now we have peace and quiet in our own little world! Perhaps now we can find some nice female frogs, and…" the green frog started to say, when the three noticed more of those huge, noisy, and clompy creatures walking along the riverbank.

The three little frogs sighed in disappointment.

The Survivor

"Corporal! Corporal Ran! We are losing your position!  We can no… longer…" the connection between the last surviving human in the fueling outpost on Jupiter's fourth largest moon, and the command vessel twenty-seven million miles away, failed and went out.

In the last six hours, he and the rest of the three-hundred and ninety nine personnel began to fight off an invasion.  The aliens had been able to reach the surface of Io, and they did it quickly and undetected.  The commander believed that it had to be a traitor amongst the forces on Io. It had to be.

Before long, the aliens and their superior armor and weapons, quickly dispatched the security forces in a strategic attack.  Panic ensued, and before long, several scientists and assistants barricaded themselves in the various reinforced safety zones.  It did not take the aliens long before they pinpointed the safety zones, and eliminated everyone in them.

The commander was gone, the security forces were gone, and all communication systems were destroyed.  Being the last survivor on the Io station, Corporal Ran contemplated his situation.  The aliens wanted the fueling outpost, but why?  What was the purpose of invading and taking a somewhat insignificant resource?  Why would they chance a significant invading force to pierce enemy lines and attack the refueling post, when there were much more valuable and vital targets further out and near the battle fronts?

Corporal Ran could not understand why.

Having been assigned to Io, the Corporal had been trained in defense.  If that defense was lost, and invasion had been accomplished by the enemy, his secondary assignment was to destroy the station.

"Destroy it, and deal with the consequences later.  Set the destruct process, and make my way to the hidden transport and escape vessels!" he said to himself, thinking about the process, "don't allow the enemy access to our technologies and collected resources!"

Io was a very valuable moon, and the nuclear devastation that would result from destroying the station would not harm it very much, but the aliens would not have it.  The Corporal made his way from corridor to corridor.

He entered the seemingly insignificant room where the detonator systems had been housed.  He set the destruct process, and quickly left the room.  He hoped that soon enough, he would be in the hidden transport hangar, and out into the deep of space.

Explosions rocked the corridors, as Corporal Ran noticed that the aliens had discovered the hidden hangar.  He entered and discovered several destroyed vessels all around him; the remains of several aliens lay smoldering amongst the chaos.

Braving the intense heat, the Corporal moved throughout the hangar, and found one intact vessel.  Climbing in, Corporal Ran initiated the hidden hangar doors.  Several aliens ran towards the small vessel, as the Corporal turned it and flew it out into the cold of space.

He watched his monitors as massive explosions spread across the surface of Io.  It was the only home that he had known for several years.

He turned to see several alien vessels all around him.  Behind them, the command vessel and many of his own fellow forces, finally arrived to engage the alien force. Later, Corporal Ran would discover that a massive deposit of vital materials had been discovered deep under the surface of the moon, which the aliens had detected.

The battle itself would be known as the battle over Io, and he, the hero of Io.

Seleinit's Folly

The elder witches taught her how to cast spells, and she became adept at it at a young age.  Seleinit was one who was eager to learn, and even more so than the others.  Night after night, she spent hours practicing in the tower.  This concerned her elders.

"You spend most of your time at your studies," an elder said to Seleinit, "why do you not spend time with your friends?"

Seleinit herself did as was suggested, but her desire was to learn more.  Over time, her interest in casting spells became a compulsion.  Behind locked doors, she began to delve in darker works.  She began to associate with others who practiced more dangerous subjects.

From them, she learned how to conjure dark things, and her desire was to delve further.  Soon enough, Seleinit grew darker and more open about her practices.  When the others objected to her activities, Seleinit left for a relative's remote home on the coast.

There, in a dark castle that lay atop a cliff by the sea, Seleinit invited others who had similar interests.

One night, she conjured a dark being.  She ordered it to perform simple tasks, and it did so.  Later, she ordered it to retrieve objects from across the countryside, and it accomplished it.  As Seleinit became more adept, she also noticed that the being no longer obeyed.

One night, the thing lashed out at her, and demanded her servitude.  It took all of her skill to fight it off.  Finally, the thing turned and left the castle on the cliff, and it disappeared into the trees of the forest.

Exhausted, Seleinit realized that the thing that she had brought forth was growing in size and growing stronger.  She realized the error of her actions.

"Woe am I," she thought to herself, "for by my arrogance, I have unleashed a dark thing upon the world!"

The Bog Witch

"Yes, my grandson, it is true!" the elderly man said as he brushed his gray beard.

The boy sat transfixed at his grandfather's admission.

"the old stories that you heard from the others are true, and by my judgement, it seems that you are now old enough to know." the old man added.

The boy stopped throwing stones into the river, and turned and stared at his grandfather.

"Well then, the stories about the old witch are true; she was once a villager that chose to practice mysterious things.  She learned how to conjure dark things from dark places, and send them out to do mischief, and other sorts of things like that. Oh, I knew that.  It's been common knowledge amongst my friends for a long time.  You're not telling me anything that I or my friends don't already know" the boy replied.

The old man saw a sense of "smirkiness" in his grandson's face.

"Grandfather, if I may tell you something, we were in the bog two nights ago!" the boy confessed.

The elderly man sat staring.

"Yes, it is true!" the boy said with a grin, "in fact, we go into the bog quite often, my friends and I, we go in search of the old witch!  Although, we've never actually found anyone in that festering place."

Disbelief replaced disappointment in the old man.

"You go into the bog?" the old man asked, "you go in search of the witch?"

The boy smiled.

"Yes grandfather, we do.  I have to say, that the old stories that you and the others tell at the inn, well, they are nothing more than old tales.  They are no more ghostly or dark as the shadow that now crosses the trees on this fine fall day!" the boy said, confidently.

"If any traveler were to stop at the inn and hear those old men's tales, well, he would receive nothing more than a quiet laugh at the listening of it.  He may find it enjoyable for a time, but nothing more," he added.

The old man remained sitting as his grandson stood.  The boy threw one last stone into the river.

"Well grandfather, I've had fun.  I have to tell you, that you spend too much time with those other storytellers.  You have to start spending time with others who aren't so confused!" the boy said with a laugh.

The old man watched him leave.

"Well, my grandson, perhaps it may be time that you meet the old witch," the old man said to himself, "perhaps it may be time that she teach you, and your brave little friends, something about… respect."