Quagzor Chapter 16

                OH she had hair of the finest multicolored dreamcoat you ever did seen and eyes like hazelnuts beyond measure and the fiery color of a sunsetting sky speckled with that of peppercorns all hither and thither about. Was not that just so marvelous a sight to mine eyes than any other had come uponx them in a relatively large portion of unreattainable time for it has passed far gone and away now. And as she made her slinkingly swaying way o’er to Drasdenofagus and myself we were both smitten with an unbreakable gaping awe of wonder for her beautified nature.

                Before we knew it her name tingled about our ears as a snablewick would flutter its feathers and all for what but to distract us from her most treacherous intentions. For as we had been lost in gazing so thoroughly at her that were we not experts in the craft of catching evildoings that so oft do befall our heads we surely would have been caught and forsaken in her tangled trap forevermore. But alas and wo begotten unto her for Drasdenofagus, who surely summoned such great will as he e’er did since the mighty Grazel the Grim who dismantled the hearts of men, yet Drasdenofagus did best him in moral combat! And, asfornow, he once more had the courageous strength of head and shoulders above the rest of us and restore this womanly creature out of the evil grasp of that which had claimed her so.

The Duke Chapter 4

The Kathreoul towered over Dallen and swung his oblique cudgel clumsily in a downward arc that splinter a fruit stand to dust and fragments of wood. Pulp shrapnel showered Dallen as he scrambled to the side of the road, but the Kathreoul was relentless. With one step of his giant gait it was upon Dallen again swinging his bludgeon into the upper portion of the building Dallen was seeking refuge under.  Beating aside fallen timbers Dallen rushed around the corner the crumbling house and down the tiny alleyway between the tightly packed buildings. Enraged by his escaping quarry, the Kathreoul swatted aside one of the smaller creatures that now surrounded his legs, but that did not slow their charge.

Dallen hadn’t noticed them at first, so focused was his gaze upon the giant Kathreoul, but as he glanced back while running down the alley he saw them for what they were, Bracchan. Bestial humanoids with protruding snouts garbed in tattered letters and portions of plate mail, carrying all manner of devilish weaponry sprinted after Dallen, though forced to turn sideways in the narrow passage due to their broad shoulders. Still, they were gaining on Dallen even as he quickened his pace. Finally, he broke free of the narrow alley and bolt down the next street, but to his overwhelming dismay another line of Bracchan stood snarling and barking in their hoarse strained voices at him. Behind him the Bracchan chasing him poured out of the alleyway, hemming him in on both sides now another Kathreoul lumbered just a bit further down the road. There was no hope of escape.

Quagzor Chapter 15

                Forsoothé and so it was that now whence we did travel yonder outward from the great Fairey Forest withé Fairey Queen’s blessings uponx our heads and inside our bosoms then it was there we set forth across the golden plainfields of the Ariendoul. More mostly grassy which was in late fall season now then would be in the harshest of winters yet to come as tolded by mystical fortune tellers in the lowers scandalous corners of the witch-begotten city Farmulnsk.

                Yet this bothered us not so much as the tightness which abided itself in our noses for fret of ill wanted illness had befallen I and Drasdenofagus much to our woeful woe.  But alas this’n’that was none to stop our hardy backs in continuing the magnificent journey of epiq proportions and thusly we tarried naught but speedily swifted ourselves up and away o’er these there grassy plans when for fear of angry Festingurls we had to make a camping on the tarnished groups and bed of the Gallop Stoon Inn, wherewithé inside our eyes could not deceive our minds into tricking them to believe that which we saw for there before us we beheld the most loveliest fair maiden we had yet come across in so many days of hardy travels.

Hoble-Jobb's Home of the Death

Uno Day Hoble-Jobb took a walk that made him go down to the sparkling gup-puddle. Thar a magickal Fairey tolded him to’er make a Home and give it the name which it most would sound better than anything else. That name is and was and will be forever is Hoble-Jobb’s Home of the Death.

The Second Paragraph

                It was a day after the first day which the Home was first conceived and tha’ day it was many a magickal place with people who swim and many othar people that are all short and all tall and are all magickal. The Magickal Men Mevershmit wanted a home to live in but the constructor man who had a name with no important meaning but that which I will tell you of any way for his name was Nikoli Haveboolean  but that is not important anyway. So by the way Nikoli was killéd by a Moselinch (a magickal gigantic spidré with eight eye sockets and only one eye so they must kill other creatures and take their eyes to fill their empty holes ad once a Moselinch has eight eyes (which none have ever had since the great Age of Legendary Beasties) it will become a Junjabain (which is just a really huage Spider) and if a Junjabain is coming to this world then any bad happenings will begin to happen and wont stop happening) and so Mevershmit had to send for another constructionor man. However, Mevershmit was almost killed and here now follows the account of Clambib the Shmashen.

Derek the Wanderer 2

When Derek pulled the colorful brown and green cloak from his shoulders in a swirling pinwheel blur the onlookers stood entranced. They had never seen one such as the towering man with his pouches and sacks full of tools and trinkets gathered from the many lands of his travels and explorations (not to mention exploitations). Nevertheless he seemed unamused by their bewildered expressions and tossed a satchel on the table, spilling small gears, levers and other apparatuses across the oak surface. With a collective gasp the crowd oooh’d and awww’d as Derek assembled a small clock right before their eyes with remarkable speed.  In a flash it was over. Somehow, as if through a tremendous force of magickal willpower, Derek had completed the clock already. No one understood it, yet none could doubt what they witnessed. Suddenly, a man at the back of the crowd shouted that he’d buy it for 15 Laranks. Another chimed in at 18 and more and more until the price had pushed up past 4 Sheldumns. Hastily bargaining with the top bidder Derek tucked his now hefty pouch of silver and gold beneath his cloak and moseyed on away.

                Now Darren Kettlesplumb was an honest man so far as honest men could be said to own a shady back alley corner store in the more than derelict district of the magnificent city of Thamond’s Gorge.  Though not one to often pull loose his purse strings there was something unusual about this clock and Darren couldn’t help but desire to get to the bottom of the mystery. He jostled aside the crowd after wrapping the clock gently in cloth and carried the swollen bundle out of the tavern, down towards his shop. Sweeping aside the fine linen wedding dresses, or what appeared as such at first glance, that littered the display table Darren placed the voluminous bundle in their stead with tremendous grace. It had seemed smaller when he first stuffed it inside the sackcloth, but now the pointed edges of the clock could be distinctly seen forcing themselves against the tight fabric. Curious, Darren peeled back the wrappings and to his great astonishment not only had the clock grown in size, but it had also changed. It was changing, morphing right in front of his eyes!

                Now free from its bindings the clock grew rapidly. From its humble beginnings as a funny shaped wooden box it grew, it evolved, developing intricate woodworking along slender lips and ridges. The clock face sprouted golden numerals and the hands elongated into spindly wisps of silver, while the base of the clock elongated and shot up swiftly one, two, five feet into the air. Then, as abruptly as it had begun the growing stopped and Darren was left standing wild-eyed and mouth agape at the grandfather clock now sitting on his tabletop.

                A distant chime told Derek that he had better hastily make his way out of Thamond’s Gorge and wither he will stop next only time shall tell.

Faron 2

Kip flicked a bark chip at Rudyard. Several of them now littered the mans red beard as he snored on his sleeping mat. The beard also had pine needles, dirt, an ant, and some twigs in it. He flipped another one at the large man and sucked in a breath as it hit his cheek. Rudyard made a choking, snorting noise and awoke with a start. He went crosseyed as he noticed more in his beard that he was used to.

“Blast it boy!” he lurched to his feet.

“I was helping the birds! Thought your beard would make the perfect nest!” Kip protested and skipped out of reach.

“Why you child of the infernal woods,” Rudyard tried to cuff the boy but missed and gave way to muttering and brushing the collection of objects from his beard, “you can be sure Faron will hear all about this and the other ways you’ve been abusing your poor uncle Rudyard.”

“Ha, Faron likes me better than you old man!” Kip smirked.

“Oh yeah?” said Rudyard as he grabbed a pinecone his foot came across.

“Why else would he trust only me enough to send me out on important errands while poor old Rudyard is left behind, huh?” Kip quipped.

Rudyard growled. “Heyuh Kip look theres. . !”

Kip turned to glance in the direction Rudyard had indicated and was rewarded with a pinecone pegging the back of his head.

“Awwh Beets!” he said as he rubbed the back of his head and glared at Rudyard.

“You know Kip, you aren’t so smart for a 13 year old. I expected more from you,” he shook his head despairingly.

“Stuff it Rudyard or next time you’ll find the nest made in your mouth,” Kip shot back unhappily.

“Ah well, better than the soup you made last night!” He said cheerfully, “better pack up we need to get moving.”

It didn’t take long to gather up their belongings and pack them onto the horses. The fire pit was buried and all signs of their having stayed there were covered deftly. They couldn’t afford to be lazy, their lives depended on it. Especially now that Faron wasn’t with them.

Quagzor Chapter 14

Now withé one swift sweeping gesture as to what would make a normal man being bow low like subservient daffodil flower plant to the eastern winds on Mount Blumpet blown clear o’er the rollingly tall grass Plains of Tash’ierm, yellowed with the seasons blight, and down through Valley Brusslemore till it reached he Forest werewhich now we stood and were tipped forward. Arose she did the Queen Elaine for how solong had she been monarchess o’er these fairey folk of the woods I cannot say but I do for a certainly know the Book of Days Gone By was written seven and several long centuries before the birth of Acron the Desolator, He who smoted the world up and down and back again. She spoke with a faintly voice reminiscent of honeysuckle pixie dust to our ears and we, that is to say Drasdenofagus and myself, did listen with great intent and did obey her every whim with eager minds therefore to come. And she spoke:

“Hark the Harold cometh hare. Enough of a bore t’would spark an interest yet not with thee. But another task have you unfulfilled yet still. Where a wick Beast-Man roameth and ravage thee land far further away than thee spreaded winged eagle canst fly. There shalt  thee findeth thee Quagzor, ravageth and tarnish him till life and soul departeth from betwixt his body and his being. Then there will cometh the hare.” 

Quagzor Chapter 13

A little Bizerwonk did make flighty path beneath our booted foots yet darted sideways with a weebly wooble to ensure its squisehedness was not taken upon its self.

For this was the Fairey Grove,

 Not one but twove.

And uponx thee willows was wove,

A glaring shimmering cove.

Wherewithall thee might didst flee,

As were now were safe from we.

Yet thar on Gammon’s Bane,

Shinned the gleaming Lady Elaine.

Queen of the Forest, Belove’,

For this was the Fairey Grove.

That there was now the song upon the tippied tongue of all the wee forested creatures, every Bizerwonk and Lemongip, and even the people of the forest who were naught as men but lesser in size yet greater in fairness. For many had poked their heads and eavesdropped at our approach for we did cause quite the ruckusly commotion throughout their forestful homes. One side of a fallen great obese tree had collapsed uponx did rise up furthermore than all else In front of our viewfinding eyes and we were lead more mostly by pull of some wrapping force than that of which by our own feet did walk us there. Yet byandby we reached the slanty foot of the highuponhigh throne of the Queen of the Forest Faireies e’er since this’n’that day many many a days gone by ago.

The Duke Chapter 3

               Upon the high cliffs overlooking the Sea of Serpents on the one hand and Callahan’s Harbor on the other sat a grim castle fortress with lengthily extending towers piercing the clouded grey skies. Ships of all size and shape bustled about in the congested waters even still on this gloomy day for there was much harvesting and trade to be done along the Derelict Coast.  Fisherman, merchants and sea captains each navigated carefully as dock masters barked orders to deckhands who scurried along the piers pushing carts full of equipment and other provisions to and from the moored ships. Dallan Almerieth was nearly crushed under the heavy wheels of one cart clumsily bouncing over the swollen planks of the docks. Scrambling aside quickly he shouted belligerently after the man to no avail and turned once again to his lonely musings.

                After staring at the murky water splash against the barnacle covered pillars supporting the wharf he stood on for some time Dallan’s gaze drifted towards the jagged stony cliffs and he caught a flash of light out of the corner of eyes. A heartbeat later the dreary outer tower of Castle Callahedron rent and plummeted towards the earth. Screams erupted around Dallan who starred in shock at the crest of the cliffs. He was not alone in watching the calamity unfold before his eyes. Even before the first tower had crumbled to the ground a second flash blinded the onlookers and burst through the heavy stone of the main keep, throwing heaps of disintegrating rock spewing over the cliff side, splashing into the harbor waters.   

                Scattered guardsmen ran along the remaining walls of the fortress in some vain attempt at defending the keep from the unseen attackers, but it was not long before the entire castle was engulf in an endless stream of light blinding flashes each hued a slightly different shade of blue.  With an earth shattering wretch the ground beneath the castle was torn asunder and the mass of earth lurched grudgingly over the cliff as if it were a child desperately trying to cling to his mother’s skirts while she was being hauled away by inquisitioners.

The tremendous spray of water and the huge waves spilling of docks snapped Dallan back to consciousness and he started to run into the port district of Fal Talamund.  To his great surprise after going no more than past the first storehouses along the water’s edge Dallan found almost all of the terrified citizens running towards him, back to the harbor. Ducking down an alley to avoid being trampled as wave after wave of civilians rushed on towards the boats moored in the harbor, Dallan sprinted on hoping to reach the boarding house where he roomed  before whatever the others were running from found him. Blessing the Great Sea King for his knowledge of the shady back alleys of Fal Talamund he had nearly reached the apartments when he turned onto a larger street and stopped dead in his tracks.

There, not sixty paces in front of him, stood the looming beastly shape of a snarling fifteen foot Kathreoul, offspring of the Outcast Gods Banished by Tal-Renda from his lofty palace pantheon to roam the desolate lands of earth.

Intro to BroBook

I'm writing this story for my lil bro cuz hes out of stuff to read. Sean insists I post it so here ya go. Enjoy!

 “Beet mulch” Faron muttered as his gaze roiled over the cell room to the bars, then through the bars and around the small, sparsely furnished but orderly room. They found their rest on a spindly man reclining in a wooden chair adjacent a thick oak desk.

 “What was that?” the man crowed. Faron had decided Jasper’s voice sounded like a wheel in need of a good oiling. Sadly enough all of the oil for his voice had found its residence in the man’s shaggy black hair. It hung limply off of his head like rotten seaweed.

 Faron was silent. He had no interest in talking to the spindly sneak. He doubted Jasper could give him the information he desired anyway.

 Faron sighed and leaned against the cold wall. Pretty pathetic that he had evaded the Bermillion guards for years only to be caught by the Anthens the first time he stepped into their territory. He had no quarrel with the Anthens and wasn’t particularly sure why they had one with him. He had reached the conclusion he was to be turned over to the Bermillion Council for a high price. Although it still seemed a bit strange as Anthas hated Berma. But it was 1000 Fresst on his head. A good enough amount of money to tempt nearly anyone. Rudyard had suggested amusedly that Faron would be wise to turn himself in for the reward.

 He smiled slightly. Rudyard.

 “Quit that smirkin over there ya lousy lump of beet flesh,” Jasper yarped, interrupting his thoughts.

 “Anything for you O great Ape,” Faron bowed mockingly.

 Jasper sneared “Don’t get ter thinkin that I cant ring your neck at my pleasure”

 Faron snorted and pulled his hat low over his eyes, “Don’t get to thinking I’d let you.”

 It was at that instant the door swung open and hit the wall with a bang that would throw Faron’s life into an unpredicted twist.

 A barrel chested man with blonde hair and short trimmed beard took in the scene and his cheeks reddened angrily “Jasper you beet skinned turnip! Get out of my seat. Better yet get out of this room! Better yet get out of my sight and don’t even think about coming back for a week, do you hear me?” he shouted.

 Jasper fell out of his seat as he scrambled to get away in terror, “But sir I-”

 “I could snap you into two Jasper, OUT!” he roared. Jasper was out of the door in a split second and the man didn’t waste time in shutting it tightly. He then crossed the room and fell into the emptied chair tiredly.

 “Sick of that man. . If you can even consider him a man. I could swear he was the blood of a worm in him,” he said, turning his attention to Faron who had observed the whole scene discretely from under the shadow of his cap, “and here you are. Faron, the Terror of the Berma Majesties. My name is Lance. I’m the head guard of Antha, and I’m very, very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 Lance got up with a sigh and pulled out a ring of keys, walking slowly over to unlock the cell.

 “And I am proud to be the first to call you King Faron of Anthas,” he bowed low as he swung the barred door open, “welcome to your kingdom your majesty.”

Quagzor Chapter 12

Aghast and was that his name also? For the creature therewithé approximately before oureyes did indeed seem of the netherworld betwixt this’n’that of ours and there’s be neither here inside one, our, but rather caught spliced as it were in each in similitude. Rather that than it be one of the Shodowy Age wance the deamons roamed a free and afreared by man and man-beast alike. Yet it’s festivities could not attract much fanfare from Drasdenofagus worhwithé he strode naught but a hair’s breadth as to facing the creatures gnarled and disfiguratively shappend body. But lo! And might was the bellowed outcry from his lungs passing out his mouth the roar of Ten Thousand Mydringal again upon the hither earth and I was there behind him all to behold this wonder and gape at its delightful spread across the now barren air in front of my fair Drasdenofagus. Pouring out from his bowels a sound no longer came yet the creature had been consumed by the hearty banshee scream and with a firm foot on the ground I didst clasp my comrade’s shoulder and proclaim him Count and Lord upon high Tower of the Bellowing Clan of Agamammoth come again. And his embrace was sure and steady and we knew naught, but that was more than enough for the crystal eye had fallen upon us surely now, though we knew it not and fell deeds were highly probably upon our return to the Fairey Grove.