Quagzor Chapter 3

There was in fact a dead peasant, so his story goes, as I walked forward next to his body and brought him from the gravedigger in this spooky ol’ town o’ Bish Bam Boo. When asked of my trade by the heretofore deceased serf I told him I was just doing a little shopping in a shop which was the whole truth except for that I had severely lied to him and did not speak a word of truth, for it was my cursedness upon myself as the truth I could not say to all but none. In a great and epic conversation destined to go down in the history of the world for its renowned decisiveness and momentous qualities such as a speaker of words to the dead for thusly did he say: 

“And now I forthwithé do Banish ye from hence and hitherto!”

With a Poof! And Splosh! That did end their talk and in my mind his life.

Derek the Wanderer

Derek the Wanderer once stumbled over a great log from which a rabbit ran out the hollowed side and darted downward towards the briar patch. Unknowingly the rabbit accidently trampled over a serpent that had been slithering along in search of a tasty treat but upon being stepped on let out a great hiss. This inadvertently terrified a nearby dove on the low hanging tree branch directly above the serpent and caused the dove to fly away in fright eastward with the wind whereupon it landed on a shoddy chimney of a house in the village of Gnarlesburry. Now the chimney being poorly constructed and left without maintenance for the space of many years gave way under the weight of the obese dove and thereby collapsed with a great crash.  Bricks lay scattered about and the entire side of the cottage was in shambles, much to the dismay of the poor family that lived there. However, one unfortunate brick had struck the backside of a passing horse hauling a coach which drove him into an uncontrollable sprint down the main thoroughfare of the town. Upon reaching the town square, narrowly avoid several accidents to this point, the horse and buggy finally made an abrupt end to its race by slamming into a farmer’s giant pumpkin stand. As pumpkins and debris flew through the air, a great panic erupted and townsfolk scattered hurriedly to avoid being pummeled by falling produce. Amidst the commotion no one scarcely notice a disturb lantern had been knocked from its perch and smashed on the ground, igniting a gargantuan bushel of hay. The fire quickly spread to the nearby buildings and was carried on by the wind through the wooden buildings of the town faster than its citizens could organize and fight the flames. It was about this same time that Derek finally reached the end of the forest path and beheld the terrible crisis before his eyes. Fortunately, Derek was well versed in the ways of the wind and the water of yore and caused a tremendous storm of rain to fall upon Gnarlesburry, extinguishing the fire almost as quickly as it had begun. After dispersing the storm the townsfolk raised Derek upon their shoulders shouting praises and showering him with what little fortunes they still had remaining. Sadly, after enjoying the fine people’s company for only a couple of days, he was forced to speedily flee the village after an unwitting string of unrelated incidents implicated that Derek had spent an evening with the mayor’s young and very attractive daughter (this in fact was true, but the conclusion was reached through faulty evidence, hearsay and the appearance of a strange, furry goat). And so Derek the Wanderer traveled onward and wither he will stop next only time shall tell.

Quagzor Chapter 2

He said that word by which tyme gone by and that Man-Beast did come and spring out up from his ground in firery flames that walk on their own and ate up each man who did not walk to a run then died in firery heap of burn. Quagzor as by now it hast been proposed by your eyes to your brain been said that Quagzor was not a man but an destructive Man-Beast and that I would propose back to you, which would most importantly happen, that indeed is Quagzor a mighty Man-Beast known to be feared and smote by all who he devours. Yet I say boy that Quagzor was once, as all those evil men who say that they became evil, became an evil and badness that the goodness which we saw from him was grand an largely flowing outside his body. But that and this was his greatest flaw as since his goodness could not be contained within him he was Bad and that I say was not good. Into the evil became Quagzor and he did ripout ones heart and ate all, but you were not unhappy for you were dead. That is what has not been forgotten as told to you I approximately just did but from here I know not what the future may hold in this case of death and evil doings.

Quagzor the Man-Beast

An excerpt from the ancient book of Days Gone By:

A time there was when man did walk upon Shodowy Earth, and fear did struck up in them times a day.

That was when the Quagzor came and Quagzor did him in.

But man did fight throughout their night till dawn and dusky day, when Beast Man ate and spate them out in every which’n’way.

That was when the Quagzor came and Quagzor ate him up.

Then wance a man walk by the time and opened up his door, to see the Quagzor standing there and open up and roar.

That was when the Quagzor came and Quagzor did he roar.

So now that man did smote him up and once then smote him down, till Quagzor rent upon the ground and he did see no more.

That was when the Quagzor came and then the Quagzor die.

-Talab Master Scribe-Hand

Entreat the Coming Storm

One day a happy little man named Quwam Mandou came upon a great and terrible Jorganstien. This big and scary beast is most formidable and quite evil. It terrorized the village Saradom, devoured countless sheep and cows of the surrounding farmlands and laid lo the thriving city of Garth.  Now Quwam was by no means a renowned hero.  He hadn’t slain the swampy-thing of the misty marshes, nor had he rescued Princess Dazia from the wretched witch Harlumheckler, neither had he even defeated a wizard or sorcerer or any type of mythical beast in mortal combat. Yet Quwam was determined to end the terrible Jorganstien. 

It was perhaps the warmest day mid December had yet seen in an hundred and ninety and five years, and so Quwam dressed lightly not even donning his warm scarf of his mother’s own sewing. But there he did take with him the hunting blade and bow of his forefathers, which he had long since been using for the purpose of hunting small furry animals in the forest yet catching none. Yet the Jorganstien drew near and the small farm on which he and his community lived was in great and terrible danger and Quwam set forth to deliver justice upon the beast.

Now the Jorganstien was a very formidable foe. Fangs of ivory hung from his wide mouth and gaping jaws. Claws sharper than a cutting blade were upon arms as burly as a great bear. His legs were thicker than a strong tree trunk and tail extended far beyond out his back, laced with spikes the entire length.  His under belly was scaly and rough, whilst the hide of his back grew dense and coarse as hard stone. Now as for its alligator like head and bulging bright blue slanted eyes, none could stand the sight and much live long for afterwards. Even the brave man of the watch, Clemsun did verily let down his sword and scurry away as he were a rat. 

And here we do find Quwam and Jorganstien face to face and man to man, with no recourse or any second to either take their place nor provide assistance.  And upon Hill Westgate outside the small commune of homes gathered together in this lush landscape did they stand as such with singular intent towards one and the other. First with the bow followed suit by the dagger did Quwam make his aggression know unto his enemy. But lo! The Jorganstien was swift and elusive and did flee from the strikes of his detractor and with his tail did he swipe at him again. Fearful, Quwam did dash yet could not escape the monster’s strike as the spiked tail lashed into his side inflicting grievous injury.

Thus we saw Jorganstien towering over Quwam with a death stare and Quwam shrinking away thusly. And as the beast raised its jagged claw above his head Quwam did spy an most opportune opening and did plunge his dagger quickly betwixt the monster’s ribs, penetrating it to the heart.  And Wo! The cry escaping from the mouth of the Jorganstien was shrill indeed as it were a banshee. And it fell crushing the ground beneath.

But where, where hath our hero gone?

Alas upon the earth does he lie, and in his blood he does die. But they shall remember him who fain slayest the Jorganstien upon dread hill than see his village devoured thereby. And in the second year after which the tempest raged onward through the land, the people did erect a monument in tribute to his everlasting sacrifice that they might have peace again. Carved of granite ore and engraved upon it was his name and there beneath it did commemorate him and credit him as: 

“Hero and Slayer of the ferocious Jorganstien, fey creature of darkness and dread.”

And when again the fell beast rises where now shall we look and see the mighty Quwam with bow and knife, standing forward upon the hill awaiting the approaching storm and defending hearth and home for life?

The End.

Introductions, of course introductions...

There was a time in high school or perhaps middle school (the days blur together and seeing how our middle school was under construction and grades 7-12 were crammed together in the same building it is easy to mix up specific dates) when my two closest friends and myself were each writing our own stories, our own prospective novels as it were.   Now the one of us actually took his writing seriously and devoted a substantial amount of effort into his work and has subsequently gone on to Harvard and greater things than I can well comprehend, while still maintaining the same drive and desire of writing he's always had. On the other hand my second friend lost all many writings when our "computer lab" was renovated and as far as I am aware has not written the like since.

As for myself, well, I still have the notebook where many of these bizarre and peculiar stories unfolded as well as a folder containing their extended works and short tales. However, recently I have again started writing similar short excerpts similar to these thrilling narratives I once wrote. Therefore, the intent of this "blog" is to archive and document these past, present and future works for all the world to see and to know and to judge as they deem fit.

I, without restraint or hesitation, do solemnly swear to write and to post that which I am inspired  to do so by the Almighty (or at least my own judgment) with fullness of heart and eagerness of quill and unabashedly pledge this God bearing witness, Amen.

Sean P. Troy