Something about this bloggie

Ok, I admit that I've failed somewhere before. But anyway welcome. Just a brief intro on what you should expect here:
1. Football. Not gonna post much of that any soon since season is over. :S
2. Anime, Games, etc. Just abt anything conceivable under the Japanese radar barring anything and everything Rule 34. Now that's illegal. Period. -.-;
3. Music. Everything to do with it is listed under the tab.
5. Unacceptable humour: Anything and everything is fair game here. As long as I don't get rounded up by the ISA. -.-'

The Known World=Fantasy world building in process. I: Used to be glossary, now devoted to random rambling; II: Character Concepts; III: Lore.
7. der Wolf=my Fictionpress account under the moniker Tsumujikaze no Soujutsu. A Ranger's Tale is hosted under this page. :)
8. New section now upped. Maybe I should also gun for upping A Ranger's Tale here since I do have this funny feeling that traffic coming to here is way more than whatever I'll get in FP.

Statement of intent: Everything said here is a figment of personal opinion, be it me or anybody commenting. I try to be responsible, but my parents=/=parents of the world.

@Druid of Luhn: Crap. Should have remembered far earlier to give you the credit for your CSS text box code. :(

A/N: But sadly, it seems that your CSS text box code has now been halved efficiency wise. :(

That most important note I should have added: Any images posted in this blog are NOT my own stuff. I got them from Google image search, I don't earn any shit by being a thief and liar. Those responsible for the pictures, rest assured that you all are great artists in your own regards. Sadly, we all know what limited space means in terms of posting.

Latest Note: Changed alignment for my page widgets due to my worry that I can't centre align the thing.

Note on A Ranger's Tale: In case any complaining fella wants to have a legal case with me, let this be known that A Ranger's Tale is rated M by default. I've upped the swearing and somewhat a bit on the dark/gritty factor. You all have been warned, let no little boy and girl enter the forbidden realm.

Latest on ART: A Ranger's Tale now starting to kick back in gear. But I really hate the insanely fluctuating climate here in S'pore.

P.S: Oh, and one more thing. Vid below is yet another ideal OP for A Ranger's Tale.

Friday, 28 February 2014

Nothing better to do... Pt II

But at least I showed up on TV last night for something I've done. Legally ofc. :P Oh, and one more thing:
Concepts are meant to be concepts, hence do not say never either way.
Come 3rd of March 2014...
We will no longer see this guy alive.
Don't believe me, I sumpah

Armour Mastery tweaks
1. Armour mastery remains under 3 types: Light, Medium, Heavy.
2. Characters with Heavy Armour mastery cannot utilise Evasion.
3. Characters with Light Armour mastery gain 10% bonus chance of Evasion.
4. Characters with Light Armour mastery gain 15% bonus chance of Evasion when not equipped with any armour.

Weapon Mastery (New!)
1. Every character (including sellswords) will have Weapon mastery.
2. Weapon mastery will increase as characters level up.

1. Elemental affinity is now triggered based on percentage chances.
2. Every character/enemy starts the battle w/full SP, i.e. SP=Stamina Points.
3. New system-EX moves. Will take up 1/3 of character's SP gauge.
4. Feat now consumes 1/2 of character's SP gauge.
5. Overdrive consumes 100% SP.
6. Once any character SP reaches 0, that character will suffer -1 for all stats.
7. Stats system remains the same, i.e. Rank S to D.
8. EX/Feat/Overdrive moves are counted as special attacks.

PC tweaks

Starting level-15

Expertise level up bonus-Critical damage increase by 3% per level up.

Weapon mastery-Longsword [normal damage-slashing; critical damage-slashing, piercing]
Starting level-4
Mastery level up bonus-Critical chance increase by 2% per level up.

Rangers are masters of wilderness, lords ruling the hunt. With nary an information gleaned from these enigmatic warriors, not even a half-wit would try riling their ire. Unfortunately for those already done so, the dead tend to have many companions.
Class Skill-Warping
[Assassinate: Counts as critical damage; target damage]
[Vulnerable: Attacks cost more SP; target debuff]
(60% chance to trigger)

Armour mastery-Light
Default Armour: Leather Cuirass
Equipment Rank: D

Effect: Focus attacks are counted as ranged damage with Lightning effect.

Effect: Chance of reducing attacked enemy's Fortitude unless enemy is healed.
(65% chance to trigger)

Seasonal element-Winter
Effect: The lower the attacked enemy's HP, the higher damage that enemy receives from this character.

Wolves are giant beast living alone, their greatest strength lies in a strong will to survive. Until it finds a mate, a wolf can and will only die alone. Accounted as a major threat to civilisation, they are mercilessly hunted down with varying success. Yet, these beasts will never cease their baleful howl and cruel jaws.
Effect: +1 Fortitude once HP drops below 60%; +1 Strength once HP drops below 40%.

[Attacks are counted as under Stealth effect when fighting in forest terrain.]

Martial Zenith
[Physical attacks deal full damage against Demons.]

[+5% damage for every 10% HP gone.]

Feint-Automatically trigger an attack if this Stance is interrupted by a melee attack; not counted as counterattack.
(Stance window duration-Short)

SP cost: 20%
[Avoidance: Immune to attacks caused by enemies under Stealth effect; self buff]
(Effect duration-Until starting of next turn)

Mobility Focus
SP cost: 16%
[Striker: Physical attacks deal 20% more damage; self buff]
[Reprisal: Only applicable during counterattack; self buff]
[Adversity: Costs lower SP if fighting against higher number of enemies]
[Expertise bonus: Trigger automatically instead; Affinity bonus: 30% chance to attack nearest enemy]
(Effect duration-1 bout)

Sudden Strike
SP cost: 16%
[Assassinate: Counts as critical damage upon hit; target damage]
[Hemorrhage: Suffer additional damage over time; DPS target debuff]
(Effect duration-Remainder of current bout)

This is a wolf sounding its baleful horn, a roar akin to mournful wail.
Apply Panic upon damage.
[Panic: Enemy suffers lower chance to hit while taking more damage; target debuff]
(Effect duration-Remainder of current bout)

Omega's Dare
Omega are wolves surviving without a home. Wandering from one territory to another, an omega wolf is the most dangerous wolf.
+1 Speed, but cannot Parry/Block. Evasion, however, is still possible.
(Duration effect-Remainder of current bout)

Revenge is every sword's best friend, vengeance its finest companion. 'Tis fury unleashed and retribution unabated.
+2 Strength.
(Duration effect-Until starting of next turn)

Sword and storm, ice and fire.
+2 Dexterity and +2 Speed; +5% Evasion for every successful hit.
[Draining: Can only be used once per battle.]
(Duration effect-3 bouts)

Firestorm-Deal damage to all enemies.
HP cost: 18%
Area of effect: Surrounding circle
[Fire-Reduce amount of enemy HP healed by 12%]
[Destroy Armour-Subsequent damage dealt ignores Armour]
[Absolute-Effects count as permanent]
(Magic duration-Instant)

Turbulent Cut-Deal continuous damage to surrounding enemies.
HP cost: 5%
[Air: SP will not be depleted for 10 seconds]
[Hemorrhage: Suffer additional damage over time unless healed; target DPS]
(Magic duration-6 seconds)

Stone Skin-Ignore damage from next physical attack.
HP cost: 3%
[Earth: Deal higher physical damage for next 5 seconds]
[Fortify: Take less physical damage until starting of next turn]
(Magic duration-Instant)

Blood Freeze-Nearest enemy takes damage.
HP cost: 5%
[Ice: Enemy takes more damage]
[Immobility: Suffer -10% chance to hit]
(Magic duration-10 seconds)

Storm Chaser-Regain 25% SP.
HP cost: 20%
[Lightning: Reduce enemy's Fortitude by 1 unless healed]
[Elemental Entity: Immune to physical damage]
(Magic duration-10 seconds)

[Assassinate: Counts as critical damage; target damage]
[Penetrate: 50% damage to armour]

Chaos Incarnate-Execute Vánagandr against all enemies on screen.
[Wrathful: Will always hit and deal full damage]

To be cont'd...

Monday, 24 February 2014

Both Lion and a Lancer

"A lion is guardian, its might and strength everlasting. Blessed is the one earning its loyalty by merit, woe unto those trying to subjugate its pride."
~Encyclopedia Bestiary


A Ranger’s Tale


“Ah… I’m so tired,” whined a tanned Cinha girl, her Causacean counterpart raising an eyebrow.

“But I thought you’re used to hard labour, Lol.”

“The name’s Lolyx, not Lol,” snapped the peevish lass, the irony behind such a reaction not lost unto her, “You got a good life comparatively, Ceres.”

“I was only in charge of the kitchen,” frowned the attractive brunette, her auburn locks ruffled.

“That’s because my family is piss poor and my old man couldn’t pay off his gambling debts,” Lolyx stuck out her tongue in reply.


“Yes, what?”

“Do you believe everything is too good to be true?” Ceres continued whispering, her dark brown orbs focused on a flock of crows passing by.

“Yeah, I know why,” frowned a puzzled Lolyx, “I mean that Sarel whatever was willing to offer us this tavern despite neither me nor you asking for anything.”

“But it seems weirdly nostalgic,” smiled Ceres wistfully, “As if this will be our home.”

“Bah, only for you,” scoffed Lolyx, her eyes betraying a nasty glint, “That stupid ass Lars better come back home as soon as possible.”

“Let’s just get some sleep,” sighed the fair redhead, “Annie Nan will scold us if we happen to doze off again.”


This wasn’t a fair fight, Guy Cody knew as much. The problem had never been about Bart’s handicap, but rather his unnerving calm in spite of this. Losing count of minutes passing by, the young lion could only maintain his narrow glare against that smirking bat. As he paced about attempting to find an opening, the Kalaran lad started analysing the situation. Only to find nary a clue with Bart betraying nothing bar his own back against the wooden railing.

Fuck that scoundrel, he’s purposely standing ground on the Sea Conch.

The Sea Conch, a ship named after that legendary war horn owned by Gibron the Seafarer. Said to possess a commanding aura equivalent to a thousand leaders of men, this was another hero enrapturing Guy’s childhood innocence. To think a fat bastard like Parnaby Davow is able to come up with that name, noted a sardonic lion both young and bitter.

“Heroes are not gods, Sand Guy. Please take note if you really want to be one.”

Gnashing his teeth before Lars’ mocking advice haunting him, the lion of Teesside released a snarling roar. Blind Bart taunted him with a dare, he’s now determined to make this single duel count. Gripping Gae Buidhe tightly in both hands, a golden streak was deflected even before the tip could reach its quarry’s throat.

Glowering against an adversary true, Guy could not fathom where Bart got his daggers from. He remembered Lukas mentioning something about Histalonian knives immensely prized for their perfect balance, surely that androgynous friend of his was no liar. However, that did not answer Guy’s unasked question.

Please don’t tell me he conjured shit out of thin air…

Then more daggers flew at him, all seemingly thrown simultaneously. Managing to parry just one out three unleashed, the lion was wounded. A cut across the temple and his side, the raging beast in him started calling for blood. Never before had Guy felt this way until he recalled a certain individual, his damning form standing tall above a sea of charring dead.

I’m gonna settle the score one fine day, just you wait.

An abrupt assault suddenly took place, a flurry of strikes trying to knock Bart off balance. Whistling in an impressive manner, Bart never imagined the young upstart pulling off such a daring move. A normal opponent would opt to play cautious, but not this one. He’s a risk taker and none of those the pirate lord killed before were guilty of having that trait.

You know my back is facing the railing. That’s the correct call, boy.

Fortune favours the bold, Garyth Parkins’ philosophy remained alive and kicking in Guy Cody’s life. Recklessly bold, yes. But this was why he’s willing to play a game of dice pitting hope against despair. Blocking the noise released by seagulls oblivious to the fight below, Guy understood one thing right from the start. One minor mistake and he might as well bade his life farewell.

Six lashes was all Guy Cody could manage, seven quick flicks delivered Bart from whatever danger otherwise. The seventh slash missing its prey by merely an inch or two, the blind brigand nevertheless stayed focused. Motivated by the scent of blood was one thing, relinquishing his absolute advantage in defence quite another. Yet, the boy shall bend his knee before his condescending leer.

With his head missing and his broad mine to fuck.

Never one to throw in the fight, a flashing image branded itself deep in his mind. Playing buff poker had never been so exhilarating before, a bunch of cadets from the Wearside Division promptly floored. It’s all the young lion needed to display an offensive intent without constraint, Pallister Scholes was right in complimenting his drive.

People called you a worthless piece of shit, but I’ve seen people far better and less focused.


“Stop your gaping, boy,” sighed Moggray Tonn, “You’ll catch sea gnats laying eggs on your tongue.”

Jase Steele promptly shut his jaw, his gaze nonetheless remained fixated on the fight.

“What do you think of him?” smiled Moggray, Jase’s reaction betraying his thoughts.

“I… I…”

“Stop stammering and say something humane,” snapped Moggray without warning, his grey eyes suddenly turning hard.

“I’d gladly wish Lady Karen a blissful union otherwise. Alas once a smallborne, forever one.”

“That’s good enough, Jase,” answered the Northern Lion, his grin growing wider, “That boy already has some other girl in mind.”


The aggressive barrage never paused even once, a ceaseless storm forged from gold and steel forcing Bart into a passive stance. If not for the ability to materialise knives envisioned from the depth of his mind, he would be feeding the sharks all by himself.

The gods must be blind to grant me Denial of Oblivion.

Despite the furious pressure sustained at breakneck speed, he never wavered a single bit. No matter how many daggers he broke, a boy shall always be one. All he needed was a lucky break. And it will come soon enough, smirked the pirate blind.

A vicious slash received a parry diverting it to the left, Guy shifted his steps to the right. One fluid turn of his trusted spear and Bart took a glancing thrust across the bicep. Finally gaining a vital head start, definitely Bart would collapse from a shrivelled wound soon enough, no matter how minor.

Both combatants sensed the clock winding down, hours converted to minutes and minutes turning into seconds. Everything became a blurring myriad, Bart could only see a lion and Guy Cody a giant bat. Ferocity knew no bounds, agility deprived of sight proven unfathomable. The wind responded to the violent conflict ongoing, both combatants’ hair thrashing along the flow.

Then it all took place in a blur, the lion of Teesside suddenly felt the wooden deck vanishing into thin air. His body became lighter, the wind chilling his spine. His ears went deaf from the roaring waves down below, fear soon seized a stranglehold onto him.

Then he gripped tightly with one hand a sturdy railing.


“Shit,” grimaced Bigan, “Gody’s fucked.”

A slap promptly knock the wind off his sails, the back of his skull humming a painful lullaby.

“That must have been painful for you, so shut up the fuck up Noisy Gun,” snorted Moggray before turning his sombre visage unto the unnerving scene unfolding.

If Moggray Tonn managed to maintain his stoic form, Jase Steele chose to sell himself to turmoil. Attempts to muster any semblance of courage proven futile, he took a stride forward before getting brutally tripped. Standing on his feet became a torturous chore, the only child of Brynn Steele realised his ankle sprained.

“Pain is good for little boys who don’t know their place,” cooed a squatting Lara, her eyes never departing from a half kneeling lad of noble birth, “Keep watching the show, I tell you.”

“A show of sharks and men,” scoffed Bigan, “You’re a sick whore. Beautiful yes. Sick, confirmed yes.”

“Let’s make a bet, shall we?” reaching out for Moggray’s shirt collar, Lara von Dirkwind plastered her heaving bosom against the veteran’s chest, “If that cub fails, I will make my move.”

“And what if this cub is truly a lion walking amongst men?”

“Then I don’t have to do anything,” winked a winsome Half-Elven rogue.

“None of us have to, but I won’t call it good news,” frowned the Northern Lion as he kept chewing his lower lip.


The young lion got his breath knocked out, getting winded was never the best way to resume a fight. In battle, mercy shown would mean self-cruelty. Either Bart had gone suddenly crazy or he hadn’t got enough of playing. Neither answer seemed palatable to the young Kalaran.

“You seem calm for a cub prepared for slaughter,” quipped Bart while digging his nose, “Tell me your secret.”

“The secret is very simple,” retorted Guy with a bloody spat, his hand raised in reply, “If you want to torture me straightaway, my hand would’ve gotten a knife.”

A maniacal guffaw accompanied an equally maniacal bandit, Guy Cody stayed stoic nevertheless. After a brief moment of silent reprieve, Bart offered an unexpected question.

“What did you see before I threw you overboard?”

“A bat. A giant one.”

“And I saw lion in you, boy. We indeed belong to the same kind.”

“Fuck you,” snarled Guy, “You can try seeing me send orders to rape a girl, whore or no whore.”

No sooner those words left his ashen lips, the young lion doubled over in burning pain. Scratching his goateed chin with one hand, Bart willed a dagger to appear in the other.

“You’ve got three tries, boy. You can refuse once, twice or thrice. Won’t be fourth time lucky though.”

“Try me four times then and we shall see who dies,” growled a wild lion walking the brink of death, Gae Buidhe currently serving as his crutch.

No sooner the sandy blond voiced his damning intent, a silvery flash tore into his left thigh. Rendered numb in one leg, Guy Cody continued relaying his vehemence through a sneering dare. The second dagger struck true, its blade buried till the hilt at his shoulder. As both hands rejected a truce to loosen grip, knife number three managed to cut in cleanly at Guy’s abdomen. Nausea immediately assumed the form of death, Guy Cody could nearly taste its bitter fruit. He desired a swift death, here and now. Yet, he understood somehow that Bart wasn’t all that willing. Out of nowhere, however, something clicked in him. A recent fragment belonging to the past made its return. And with it heralded a glimmer of future.

Gae Buidhe feeds, Gae Dearg takes away. If you desire something or someone, surely a relevant price must be exacted. You’re blessed with an immense willpower, maybe that’s why you’re so batshit crazy.


“Wha… what the fuck is that?!” exclaimed Bigan, his stubby finger jabbed towards Guy’s direction while Moggray and Jase enrooted themselves with fearful awe.

“As if I know,” drawled Lara, her smile divulging admiration and mayhap something so much more, “The cub has finally grown an impressive mane.”


The wind suddenly turned twice as violent, the lion of Teesside relishing a dirge reaching its crescendo. How much had Gae Buidhe consumed, he perceived not. How much was required to unleash Gae Dearg, he understood fairly well. That playboy Lars was right in calling him batshit crazy.

The spear remained unchanged in form and length, yet from refined gold it became a burnished red. If Gae Buidhe represented mortality, what then about Gae Dearg’s meaning behind fatality? Guy Cody failed trying out the latter on Aeranath last time round, this blind murderer would fill in nicely.

A dagger was promptly flung swiftly, its point aimed at his forehead. With the sharpest flick of his wrist, the Crimson Thorn of Fatality cut open the space before Guy’s sapphire gaze. A crimson crescent lashed out at the dagger, an otherwise deadly projectile ended up shattered. In a blinking of an eye, the horizontal arc narrowed itself into a fiery arrow. Bart barely managed to evade the lethal lance, its wrath claiming instead a hostile crossbowman perched upon the opposite stern.

Caring not for his own man receiving a shattered skull with brains showering the rest below, Bart continued fighting the duel he craved so much for. His nerves wracked with ecstasy, never before did he ever had to fight such a difficult opposition. His leer soon transformed itself from sadistic to enthusiastic, now was the time to feel alive.

Damn all the bitches and riches. My time and destination has finally arrived.

His previous composure unflappable suddenly collapsing, such was the choice made by self-volition. Languid movement moments ago morphed into a flurry of foolhardiness, his defensive poise abdicating its throne in favour of a daredevil fighter.

With one moment gone, both repelled each other. Come the second moment passed, Guy Cody stood his stubborn ground. The third was punctuated by crimson lashes and blood red bolts, by the fifth a giant blind was finally mutilated beyond recognition. This was a victory for the supposedly weak, a lion meek nary the truth.

Then Guy Cody finally fell face down, for not even a lion living amongst men could wish to vanquish every foe.


“How long in the blue fuck must we wait?” grumbled a tattooed boy no older than thirteen, “Boss, I’m so…”

“Hungry,” completed Kymm Lios, “You’re my underling, Alaud. Don’t force me to repeat the same ol’shit.”

“Hey!” hollered Alaud abruptly, “I hear food!”

“Hear that rapping sound, boys?” shouted Kymm, his boisterous gang reciprocating the upcoming challenge, “Moggie’s tellin’ us to bust major ass! Woo!”


“Here’s your home, Guy. Make yourself comfy, don’t feel shy!”

I looked at the man calling himself Uncle Parky, his face is surely lined with scars. I tried telling him time and again, he said I should try getting some sleep once we reach home.

Home… why do I feel my real home should be at somewhere else? This looks like an inn, only without many girls.

“Oi, Nan! Crazy Park is finally back!”

Wow, that’s one noisy man. I thought people his age tend to be quieter. Wait, who said that? I know somebody did, but I just can’t…

“Yer basterd o’a willie, finelly willin’ ta come home?”

Okay, make that two noisy adults.

“Nan Annie, meet Guy Cody. Guy, just call her Annie Nan.”

Trying a straight gaze at that old woman is pain, I just don’t like her stern look. Human, yes. Nice, no. Then come my most dreaded moment.

“Yer Crazee Parkee’s neh’few? Dat man’s batsheet loonee, lern frum ya’dadee instad. ‘appen ta’ kno ‘im. Gut’d fer bee’nain Gerod…”

I don’t understand a word that sad woman says, but I know who is Gerod. He’s…

Wait, who is Gerod exactly?


“What’s in that skin bag?”

I glowered at that retarded kid, definitely curiosity won’t bring him back to life.


Well, guess what? Brat’s look is fucking priceless. Willing to wager my best wine here on every whore willing to pay him for a shag or three.

“It shouldn’t be piss,” frowned the sandy blond little boy, “I thought piss is the water coming out of us.”

Moral of the story: Not every curious kid is stupid. I’m gonna have fun with this.

“Oh, but we sellswords do drink piss and eat shit.”


I find him sticking out his tongue somewhat grotesque, it must have been how I disembowelled some sick fuck bounty who got his kicks from castrating little boys.

“Ceres is teacher. She explained piss and shit to me.”

A teacher? Must have been an attractive spinster.

“Tell me how old this Ceres of yours is, so that I can pay her some money.”

Oh fuck, boy doesn’t look happy. He must have been to some whorehouse without getting educated.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but I don’t like your tone,” retorted a little boy mightily pissed off.

“You might as well say you don’t like my expression also.”

I hope he gets my answer because I hate playing petty arguments with petty little folks. Go eat shit, Ziron.

“Expression? You mean face? But I only don’t like your tone!”

Someone here must have gone full retard, it’s either me or him. I’m willing to give myself that benefit of doubt though. Guess I should really pay this Ceres a visit.

“Ceres is only thirteen and she’s a teacher. She doesn’t work in that inn full of girls because I don’t like the men there.”

Okay, something’s definitely wrong with his education. Decent people don’t let their kids wander about. Can’t say the same for these decent folks, what a shame.

“Here, take this.”

Entrusting my wineskin to someone incapable of appreciating liquor must have been my craziest stunt thus far, but I don’t care. Hyo’Ah was right in questioning my common sense till death did us part.

“Take this piss and sell it for some money. Get me?”

No answer given, only crickets chirping in the cool evening sky. But then again, what else do I expect from a kid who happened to take a wee little swig? The night is gonna be long and full of bullshit.


Saturday, 22 February 2014

Kenna (un)banned...

For no reason at all. Apparently, being a harmless human being in reality has its horrendous flaws unless you're equally docile in RL. But no matter what, at least it's good to do something constructive.

A/N: Due to a sudden surge in whimsical urge, I decided to do a footie post. All in all, this will entail 1 WC team in red and 1 sad bastard team in red.

Pointless note: Lately, it seems that a certain somebody is getting death threats from some unknown son of a bitch unseen. 'Nuff said.

That lucky WC team

Talk cock intro: Many will always remember South Korea for its vibrant entertainment circuit capable of throwing a curve ball or two. Footballing wise, the Koreans never had any big to cheer about unless we're talking about 1966 where it's a case of O Rei [1] vs 애국가. Come 2002, however, the Koreans finally got their biggest break. Many a romantic will still cry tears of patriotism over how the Taegeuk Warriors managed to pull one over the likes of La Furia Roja [2] and the Azzurri [3]. Yet, I believe the most understated achievement ever done was to one-up their most hated regional rival, Japan. Remember folks, 2002 was a joint venture between two nations with plenty of historical bad blood ever since Toyotomi Hideyoshi decided to park his Momoyama armada right at the Korean people's face. [4] In fact, 'tis a miracle to hear nary a Korean drinking song over such an over-achievement post 10 yrs later.

Sadly, 2002 would always remain as a one off, for times have changed. For one, La Furia Roja are currently Los Campeones 2010 with Pentacampeões being that fancied challenger. Then we also have the Azzurri proving every neutral pessimist and ardent hater wrong time and again. Coupled with the fact that サムライ・ブルー are still churning out flair players on a consistent basis, the future looks a tad too bleak for the Taeguek banner. [5] Or is it?

Of late, it seems that the Korean production line has came up with a few interesting names. Granted you'll never see a Kagawa "Evil Kagawa" Shinji or Honda "Civic" Keisuke, let alone Nakata "Cavaliere di Roma" Hidetoshi [6], but seeing how a certain Son "der Sohn" Heung-Min managed to seize the Fußball-Bundesliga by storm must have warmed the cockles of a certain Hong "화성" Myung-Bo's heart. [7]

무거운 짐: What must Hong-hyung do to make things work? I don't mean qualifying for last 16, but rather trying to make the most of every little thing. In football, there is little to no margin for error. Smash-and-grab victories were rightfully called so for a very good reason. For the Taegeuk Warriors, one little cock up can easily mean a three to four goal trashing.

Numero uno-Taegeukseong must NEVER be breached. The one thing Taegeuk Warriors are so proud of is their midfield, this being the reason why their national tenacity trumps even that of their Japanese counterparts. The interesting part about Korean history is that this is a people most used to getting invaded left, right and centre. Once you managed to invoke a nation's anger, be very sure that Liam Neeson will turn Korean.

Numero dos-will the real Lee "lol St George?" Chung-Yong please stand up? If this was to be some X-Men plot, then it's high time to see Scott Summers leading the line. Grabbing the game by its bollocks is suicide, how [8] Chung-Yong anchors the ball will go a long way in deciding which way the match swings.

Numero tres-Park "not Linkin' Park" Chu-Young, your mother country needs you now more than ever.

Prediction: Lagi slim chances of reaching last 16, but one does not simply diss a nation of zealots. You can be pretty sure the Taeguek Warriors will take one match at a time, 90 mins plus stoppage of nonstop tenacity at a time.

That Sad Bastard Team
Talk cock intro: We're hitting rock bottom now. Or is it? Not so surprisingly, Aitor "Amigo del Noreste" Karanka managed to pull off yet another shocker. After signing some unknown lad from Real Madrid Castilla, a certain Lee "not Tomlinson" Tomlin decided to go 3.5 yrs permanent. Considering we've just signed that bloke on loan while living off match suspension, that's truly a shocker.

Against Wigan, we couldn't find a way through a middle 5.
Against Blackburn, we couldn't find a way through Paul "Budgie no deshi" Robinson.
Against Watford, we got undone by friendly fire amounting to 2 moments of madness from the same guy. [9]
Against them ****ing dirty Leeds, what can we do?

Firstly, let's give credit where it's due. Brian "the Cinderella Man" McDermott has truly transform a team wracked by internal problems rather than on the pitch. While it's relatively easy to fix Neil "talking cock" Warnock's mess, the slightest cock up would also mean a potential backlash from the stands. Make no mistakes about it. The Leeds job ain't the worst shit possible in football management, but one wrong step in handling the dressing room could spell fatal. This is where McDermott made his mark. Like his incumbent counterpart, he's been there and done that in terms of Championship football. Yet, his ability to inspire any half-arsed dressing room is there for all to see. It's relatively easy to say Reading should sack him last season, but look where are the Royals now? Only 8 pts ahead with one more match alrdy played.

Tactically wise, McDermott also succeeded where Warnock had failed so horribly. When he realised his 3-5-2/5-3-2 won't work a shit throughout 46 fixtures, bloke switched to a 4-5-1 formation that somehow managed to work wonders once again.

So how does his 4-5-1 work exactly? A certain Ross "not McCormick" McCormack is again at the tactical core. We're pretty much butt hurt over the supposed fact that McCormack rebuffed our offer. [10] However, I'd have to say he made the right choice. Within the English footballing culture, the most likely candidate to skipper his team would always be either a CB or CM. Players capable of leading a flat line of 3-4 blokes clustered together. Not so for McCormack. By giving him the armband, it merely means McDermott trusting him equally much as how the late titan Sir Matt Busby trusted a certain George "best of Belfast" Best.

By granting McCormack the freedom to roam off-ball, his gaffer's decision merely affirms this Border Reiver's greatest gift-intelligent movement, positioning and a good first touch.

The onus: Key to victory would be doing something about McDermott's middle 5. If 3-5-2 and 5-3-2 doesn't work, it merely means there are other ways to create a flat 5. Devoting attention to McCormack would be outright fatal, for he's not the kind of player to stand at one spot and anchor play. One does not simply say McDermott has 12 million quids to spend.

I believe McDermott's strategy is very simple. To utilise how high McCormack plays as an indicator on how far the midfield will press. In order to do so in devastating effect, two conditions must be fulfilled:
1. McCormack must NOT get the ball.
2. McCormack must NOT make the first move.

Only once Leeds start their merry middle press will McCormack start to make his move. In short, his chances of banging in goals hinges directly on whether the midfield would be fast enough to disrupt us from playing the ball forward.

So how should we go about neutralising this threat? My suggestion is very simple, yet terribly batshit insane.
Split them down the middle, either pressure their back 4 or (even better) pin them back from the middle.

Who I'd like to see as our match winner

[2]: Doubt got any Korean playing in Liga.
[3]: Doubt Ahn "Traditore!" Jung-Hwan got forgive Italy
[4]: And to think people will only remember best how Japan colonised that once unified Korea.
[5]: Yes, "that nation" still got the upper hand. Not my problem though.
[6]: Yet another reason for Koreans to hate Italians.
[7]: Him and Psy should have a drink or two w/Gus "Me Gusta!" Poyet some day. We know who currently plays for Sunderland. Problem, Swansea?

[8]: Or rather where.
[9]: Please, no more of that shit. It's a miracle of tactics that we only managed to lose by a goal under 3 such circumstances thus far.
[10]: Apparently, had trolled many a Sad Smoggie Bastard.

Thursday, 20 February 2014

Nothing better to do...

Therefore I decided to pull some pointless(?) tweaks to A Ranger's Tale RPG. Before that however, allow me to up a clip just for teh lolz. :)

New note: Remember The Known World tags? Well, if it ain't official, it's merely concept. Ditto for this one also.

New note dua: I too stupid, forgot to switch back my FB status settings to Public.

Technique tweaks
1. Now conferring specific status upon a successful Technique Attack.
2. Yes, Technique is now a 2-fold system so as to speak. Gamer first select one specific Technique before combat, after which the relevant command input (i.e. Technique Attack) pressed will release its respective effect.
3. Magic stays unchanged. Just sayin' this lol!

Stats tweaks
1. Officially changed to a 4 stats system, namely Strength, Speed, Dexterity, Fortitude.
2. Ranking system stays unchanged.
3. Stat buff system stays unchanged.
4. Strength denotes the amount of damage dealt; Speed denotes the amount of critical damage dealt; Dexterity denotes the number of Attacks executable per command input once SP gauge is at least 1/2 full; Fortitude denotes the character's resistance to both physical damage and negative Magic effects.
5. HP not only indicates the maximum amount of damage any character can take, but above all is decided by a combination of Strength and Fortitude.
6. Evasion is decided by the combination of Speed and Dexterity.
7. Expertise no longer decides a character's stats.

1. Instead of affect whatever percentage relevant, Truth now affects the character's stats ala trigger effect.
2. This will go by the stat buff system stated above.
3. Ales' only Truth=Dragon (truly doubt Daenerys Targaryen was unwittingly responsible for Park Shin Hye's awakening sexuality[?] tho).

1. Starting sellswords now have their respective class. Or rather Human race.
2. Traits of sellswords: Kalaran-automatically block the next physical Attack upon successfully defeating an enemy; Teutonian-deal 25% more damage whenever SP is 3/4 full or more.; Slarvean-Attacks cost less SP; Tamurian-faster SP regeneration; Sudhlit-deal 2 ranged Attacks instead of just once; Cinha-deal double damage against enemies with 50% HP or less.

1. Ranged weapons can only be used during the character's 1st Attack unless said character belongs to the Archer Expertise.
2. Two handed weapons can only deal 1 Attack per command input unless said character belongs to the Berserker Expertise.
3. Exotic weapons can only be used by characters belonging to the Adapt Expertise.

1. Fencer
Weapon type usable-Blade
Expertise trait-Footwork
Apply Stealth to counterattack, +2% critical damage.
[Stealth: Attack will always hit; hit buff]
2. Lancer
Weapon type usable-Pole
Expertise trait-Duelist's Guile
Apply Off Guard for 3 seconds per hit; can stack up till 4 times, attacks cost less SP when attacking affected target.
[Off Guard: Enemy cannot counterattack; target debuff]
3. Berserker
Weapon usable-All unless specified otherwise
Expertise trait-Frenzy
Gain Momentum during the start of every bout; can stack up till 6 times, cannot use Magic.
[Momentum: Can attack 1 additional enemy and +10% damage dealt per Momentum gained; self buff]
[Burst: Consume 1 Momentum for every Focus attack, resultant damage automatically count as critical and will always hit; target damage]
4. Archer
Weapon type usable-Ranged, specified weapons
Expertise trait-Survival Artist
Attacks will slow down enemy. 60% chance to Aid.
[Aid: Deal damage to attacking/attacked enemy; damage support]
5. Adapt
Weapon type usable-All
Expertise trait-Spontaneous Flair
Attacks cost less SP,apply Mimicry to attacked enemy.
[Mimicry-Enemy Technique attacks cost more SP; target debuff]

To be cont'd (?) b/c I too tired alrdy...

Sunday, 16 February 2014

The 3 Big Bad(ass) Wolves... II

Der Einzelgänger

["People," Geralt turned his head, "like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they kill a trapped fox with an axe or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live." ]
~The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski

Geralt of Rivia and Triss
~by remoraz
How shit happens:
I believe I've heard of the Witcher as a novel series many years ago, but it's only when AnalAlex mentioned this series as a RPG in TFF did I start paying attention. Albeit it's possible that I might have stumbled across The Witcher II during one of my random window shopping spree at Comics Connection during my ITE/NSF era. Interestingly enough, the internet has more of Geralt than Elric.

Houston, we've got a problem here...
One interesting little info gleaned from the internet years ago concerned a certain spat between Moorcock and Sapkowski. In fact I can't even decided whether this was really a spat or some dark humor coming from Moorcock himself. What I do know so far is this-Moorcock doesn't seem to be utterly impressed with the term "White Wolf" being used by a 3rd party individual. Whether this opened the opportunity for Games Workshop, however, remains to be seen. That is unless GW managed to say something about these blokes alrdy...

The cold hard truth about loners
When we talk about loners, many a romantic picture comes to mind. For every Uzumaki Naruto, there will always be a Go Dok-Mi. This is romantic idealism, NOT the reality of all things social exile. I've been through 10+ years of such experience, I have no problem identifying w/idealism. However, realism tend to prevail 9 times out of 10, some might even call this a victory dedicated to cynicism. Because I want to be a cynical dick, I decide to list down the difference in details.

Two lone wolves, plenty(?) of common territory
The Witchers are basically surplus existence by time Geralt made his anti-heroic appearance. You see, the Witchers's greatest problem lies in not being able to adapt. Not towards whatever social norms, but rather the ever changing world. From renowned demon hunters, they have degenerated into sellswords for hire.

While I'm not gonna spoil anything where the True Apostles are concerned, it must also be noted that Aeranath doesn't have much skills in socializing. Or rather none at all. The only thing he's good at is basically summed up by good ol'Geralt himself:
"Power, sex. Sex, Power. They both come down to one thing - ****ing others."

On an interesting side-note, this is also something Jaime Lannister would gladly do.

Morality(?) vs Morality(?)
One thing I admire about Geralt is the fact that he really believes in moral crusaders. Not ideology wise, but rather recognizing their existence. In a world where everybody is living a fantasy world parallel to the Book of Judges, Geralt is nowhere better. The only problem he has? The understanding that every individual is born to be a jerk. Ditto goes for Aeranath also.

Yet, it must also be noted that Geralt does have a sense of humanity left inside. More accurately speaking, he actually knows it and embraces it, no matter how much others view him as a monster of sorts. His moral compass has already gone beyond the black and white divide, however. Instead, his moral standard hinges on an absolute grey territory (interesting enough, the big bad wolf we all know so well is the Canis lupus, i.e. the grey wolf).
[“Only Evil and Greater Evil exist and beyond them, in the shadows, lurks True Evil. True Evil, Geralt, is something you can barely imagine, even if you believe nothing can still surprise you. And sometimes True Evil seizes you by the throat and demands that you choose between it and another, slightly lesser, Evil.”]
~The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski

Aeranath? Well, it's fairly accurate to say that his moral standard is nothing short of chaotic. The only way which I can explain this to you is shown below:

Oops, sallah. Should be this correct anjing-gila

So where will the similarities take Aera?
To be honest, I dunno. Yes, I do have a skeleton stashed somewhere in my creative closet, but srsly everything would still amount to shit unless I manage to do/add things along the way. Can you believe A Sea of Arms and Craft ain't even 10% done?

Monday, 10 February 2014

The 3 Big Bad(ass) Wolves... I

El Lobo Solitario
Elric of Melniboné
~by RosanneHayes

[Elric knew that everything that existed had its opposite. In danger he might find peace. And yet, of course, in peace there was danger. Being an imperfect creature in an imperfect world he would always know paradox. And that was why in paradox there was always a kind of truth. That was why philosophers and soothsayers flourished. In a perfect world there would be no place for them. In an imperfect world the mysteries were always without solution and that was why there was always a great choice of solutions.]
~The Elric Saga Part I by Michael Moorcock

How shit happens:
Let me first state that I know very little about this character apart from the fact that he's badass. Period. This is to say that I only know a few things about Elric.

1. He's the last emperor of Melniboné, an empire of non-humans, i.e. the Melnibonéans.
2. He always has been deeply disturbed by his people's sadistic practices, something which would play a major role in their demise.
3. He actually has a moral compass.
4. Also known (?) as the White Wolf due to his albino looks.

No inspirations then?
Have to say I ended up stumbling upon this character almost by chance. Even though I've sworn off TFF due to RL commitments, I only have many good memories about this site. One of my most notable finds is a few number of classy works/characters. Elric of Melniboné was one of these moments. The biggest problem about the series is this-I don't have time, $$$, and Paypal. This is also why when it comes to random analysis for any given work, I can only fight blind plus my right hand tied behind. Weirdly enough, it seems that info on the Elric saga synopsis is rather scarce.

So it's bullshitting then!
Well, technically so as to speak anyway. However, I ended up discovering Aera's whimsical character being accidentally similar to the Melnibonéans. Yet, his life is never about decadence and this is where the similarities end.
The funny thing about Aeranath is that he's born forever alone, ditto for Elric.
When Michael Moorcock conceived this character, his intent was clear right from the start-to create a main character utterly unlikable, yet capable of invoking sympathy from the audience. No prizes for guessing correctly where this part is going.
Also, the fact that Elric possesses a moral compass=/=he's a good person. It merely means he's perfectly humane and the same goes for Aeranath, i.e excluding the moral compass part. Elric has to live with guilt where his decisions are concerned, Aeranath doesn't have this restraint. In a surreal manner, one can say Aeranath is more of a Joker to Elric's Batman.

Any parallels then?
1. Elric's journey was that of tragedy and loss. This is also the story of Aeranath's past (albeit individual mileage differs).
2. Through a certain somebody, Aeranath managed to find a temporary reprieve from his inner demons. For Elric, we'd be talking about Zarozinia.
3. At the same time, Cymoril can be seen as Sarel Aphros of sorts due to a sense of infatuation. However, it could be argued that Sarel understands Aera more than Cymoril understanding Elric.
4. Not too sure if I'll pull off a Stormbringer where Fragarach is concerned. Still playing w/the idea.
5. Elric has companions. (doh!)
6. Even though the concept of True Apostles was inspired by Nasuverse itself, Aeranath's existence could be seen as 50% Elric, 50% Rule 63.
7. Not too sure if paradox is a pervasive theme for the Elric Saga, but I believe A Ranger's Tale is already an official tale on the beauty behind paradox.

Comparisons: The Real McCoy vs The Pretender
In terms of power level, Elric is quite obviously leaps and bounds ahead. However, Aeranath's lack of guilt would make him 3/4 as dangerous. Or maybe at least 1/2 to 1/3 anyway...
As for any potential Stormbringer vs Fragarach talk, I prefer to comment Elric's accursed sword is ten times more powerful albeit I've got no intention (at least of yet) to create Fragarach as some corruption almighty. Maybe totally not at all, who knows?
When it comes to romance (since every decent fantasy work seems have it, never mind substandard ones like this work of mine), both can be equally obsessed in a good sense. Elric decided to depart from the only life he knew for Zarozinia's sake, Hyo'Ah still remains as the only person capable of taming a wolf. And in case anyone is curious to ask, I'm not gonna entertain any questions on whether Alestrial will continue Hyo'Ah's legacy on a literal basis. Period.
In terms of relentless nature, I admit knowing nothing next to shit on Elric. I can try saying "oh, he's one extremely tough cookie!" where in fact this is 100% true for every main character in fiction, so I'm not about to court intellectual suicide. Perhaps this is why I'm much more comfortable creating Aeranath as a relentless hunter utterly devoid of remorse. If you think failure is a bad thing, you're an idiot. If you think being a loser is a bad thing, you're a moron. Aeranath doesn't become a deadly S.O.B just b/c he happens to own many a goon throughout his years uncounted.

to be cont'd...
Next-Final part on this post, def not this blog.

Monday, 3 February 2014

Blood and Honour, Lions Against Men

A/N: Before I kickstart this new chapter after such a short period gap, allow the troll to wish everybody a Happy Chinese New Year. Don't worry, I won't emulate Amos Yee b/c it takes a daring (?) S'porean to understand other better (?) S'poreans.
Notable fatalities: King Lear, Hamlet, MacBeth, the list goes (?) on.
Moral Crusaders vs Moral Terrorist(s), who shall come out victorious?


"What separates man from beast? Is it how we look in the mirror or something of opposing nature privy only to self?"
~Erik, Lord of Berserkers


A Ranger's Tale


The skies were of clearest blue with nary a cloud, the seagulls’ call being every seafarer’s constant companion. Mayhap only the navigator keeping count of days passed by, this was merely a voyage for many, yet an endless journey for the rest.

“Have you seen Joyce?” queried a worried Southgate Garatt, paternal instincts kicking him in the gut once again.

“No,” shrugged the navigator, “We’re in dead middle of the Endless Straits, so rest assured that we won’t see that frisky lass swimming naked.”

“I beg your pardon?” snarled the stocky brunette, a strong hand shaking his intended target like a worthless cur, “Kymm Lios, you better shut your mouth before I do it for you!”

“Try employing another navigator afterwards then,” grinned the roguish lad, his tattooed torso bared, “You don’t hire living beings from inside the Endless Straits.”

“Try me.”

“I’d rather try that girl…”


“Kymm is referring to weasel lass, not frisky lass,” quipped a bleary eyed Lara, a slender hand covering her yawning mouth, “Don’t make so much noise early in the morning!”

“Early? It’s already noon by my own guess,” retorted Southgate.

“You’re two hours off, Stonegate!” beamed an annoying Bigan in triumph, “I’ve finally invented something capable of telling time via a shadow cast!”

“Dumbest motherfucker. The School of Structuring already did that,” muttered a derisive Kymm.

“I heard that, virgin,” grinned the Goblin, his smiling mug insinuating something about to happen, “I managed to insert a workstone after assembling the necessary structure. Sorry for killing your bird by accident. Parts do fly away due to unintentional accidents. Tasted like chicken though.”

“What? You ate Budgie? Come back here, you son of a green bitch!”

“Dumbest motherfucker,” growled Southgate, “Whatever ‘necessary structure’ means anyway.”


“More! I want more!”

Well, his look is a real bummer. What’s wrong with asking?

“More of what?”

“More of your stories!”

Wow, I’m so clever to tell him what I want. Dad was right in encouraging me to ask for anything.

“Fuck the stories! I only cook up shit for fun.”

Huh? Wait a holy sec, I need to get this clear.

“Erm… good sir, what is fuck and shit?”

“Shit is something everyone does since birth. As for fuck… well, you’ll grow up to be a man sooner rather than later.”

Well, I guess that’s a good enough answer.


Guy woke up in an instant, his sapphire orbs greeting the skies beyond and his paramour inside. He did not understand why Joyce’s existence is capable of getting Southgate hot under the collar, but surely trouble was his second name by birth. At least I’ll die a happy man once getting caught with my pants down, mused the self-deprecating blond.

You’re pretty good for an unschooled cub, do you not know that?

Damning memories skewering his soul, this was a certain seductress cutting his heart apart. If not for her, he wouldn’t be here. If not for her, he wouldn’t have little to no qualms in shagging any lass outside his beloved Alestrial. Yet, who was the one starting the proverbial fire? It wasn’t the Grand Damsel, but that man.

That man in his dream…

Any sombre thoughts entertained moments ago collapsed under the weight of his fiery loins, the culprit none other than a dainty hand brushed across his crotch. Blushing furiously despite the apparent, Guy Cody wished he could jump into the sea right now.

If only sharks ain’t real…

“Joyce! I know you’re in there with that boy!” frantic pounding shocking his senses like a winter spring, the young lion knew he’s officially screwed, “Come out this fucking moment, you get me?!”

Attempts in getting dressed verily futile, the sandy blond realised it’d take some time for his erected member to stay down. Then it happened all too fast, the door to Joyce’s room broken down.

“Oh hi,” grinned a sheepish Guy Cody, a hand raised in response to Southgate’s bulging stare.

“Mmm, Guy… heh heh heh…” giggled a still sleeping Joyce, “You’re so strong and forceful.”

“Wait! I can explain this!”

If the young Kalaran thought he could slip away through a momentary miracle, Southgate Garatt was about to prove somebody wrong.



“So let me get this straight,” asked an impish Bigan, “You managed to…”

“Shut up, green jackass,” snapped Southgate.

“Don’t call me a green jackass!”

“Oh, and ‘tis acceptable for me to become Stonegate?”

“That’s ‘cuz you looked like a stone statue nine times out of ten!”

Jase and Konnor could only balk before a comical brawl unfolding before their gaping visage, Moggray Tonn chuckling akin to no tomorrow. If Guy had any reaction from an overzealous fight, he merely tried looking somewhere else. Only to discover an irate Joenne staring down at him. Swallowing his saliva nervously, Guy tried getting away to no avail. Getting yanked backwards forcefully, Guy Cody finally understood any rumours pertaining to Joenne Nances’ absurd strength was no laughing matter. Even though he suspected that was down to his current circumstances.

“Pervert!” screamed Joenne, her shrill voice piercing every listener’s ears, “I hate you! You know we all like you!”


“What’s that reaction, Konnor Riples?” retorted Joenne with a finger pointing at his direction menacingly, the young Home Guard of House Steele becoming her next potential target, “I know you because Ales always mentioned your name.”

“Lady Joenne,” coughed Jase in a civil manner, a curtsy accentuating a deliberate show of pomp, “May this lowly scion be so daring to ask who are the ones you’re referring to?”

“I… well, I mean everyone here likes our moronic friend,” clearing her throat, an embarrassed Joenne tried putting up her bravest front, “Right, moron?”

“Sorry, this moron here is not impressed,” frowned Guy, his arms folded together in non-amusement, “I’m also…”

“Answer me,” requested Jase Steele, his glare pointing barbs against Guy betraying a majestic air belonging only to a war commander most able, “Is it true that Lady Karen likes… this smallborne?”

Under ordinary circumstances and equally ordinary people, Jase’s demand would have invoked fear from every watcher. Unfortunately for him, ordinary folks would never get themselves into unarmed fights and armed battles within the same mention. Mayhap Lars was right in calling him both lion and a man. Then it took place all too suddenly, a massive boom resulting in a mast broken and killing a nearby sailor. Joenne could only stare with horror, a dead man’s skull split open like a grotesque melon casting a binding spell on a noble lady. She had seen nothing like this, was this truly what war is all about? Before she could even attempt an answer to a question numbing her mind, her throat got seared by fire and flaring pain. Then came darkness forevermore…


If Blind Bart was capable of sight, no one would have batted an eyelid over the fact that he’s able to sense actual things even from three miles away. Unfortunately, his youngest crew member got himself into trouble. Making huge strides impossible for a blind man, Bart grabbed the poor boy by his neck. If the rest had any questions waiting to be asked, they chose to keep quiet because a silent man is the wisest man.

“Brat!” snarled the wiry pirate, “Did I told ya’ to fire yar crossbow?”

“Baw… bawss…” stammered a frantic lad, his knees undermined by fear.

Nothing was uttered hence after bar a bloody fountain, gurgling sound hailed from an open throat akin to music to Blind Bart’s ears. Tossing a youth nearing death overboard, a swarm of sharks gleefully accepted their present bestowed. He needed not any instructions to give, every single word was explicitly stated beforehand. Wreck their ship, take their gold, fuck their bitches, and kill the rest. If anyone knew the secret behind Bart’s supernatural sight, that person was no longer deemed alive.


“Shit! How many men we’ve lost?” hollered Southgate as he hacked down yet another pirate.

“Don’t ask me, moron!” roared back Jase, his keen blade biting deeply into its latest kill, “Konnor… Konnor! Where are you?!”

“Come and get a dead man and your rightful due if you dare!”

Jase’s heart skipped a beat upon recognising the speaker and his tone. Surely Konnor…


“Eiyo bawss!” exclaimed a gleeful man old but strong, his fellows tossing a shrieking lass onto the deck “We gert par’cell!”

“Fark da par’cell,” grinned the leader, “Jus’ ‘member ter lemme ‘ave da last an’ finest sh’ot.”

Ignoring the victim’s heightening screams, Blind Bart signalled to his right hand man. Taking over the telescope from his superior, the middle aged sellsword nodded silently.

“Help me see if there’s anybody worthy to fight.”

“Aye, bawss,” taking a minute or two to complete his task, Bart’s second mate gave a salute even though Bart would never see this coming.

“Anyone?” continue whispering the pirate lord, his leer betraying a lust to maim and kill.

“Two boys, one dead and the other alive,” came an apathetic reply, “The one left standing seems to have slain at least three to four of our brothers with every damned survivor cowed. Guess they need either stick or cunt.”

“G’oad,” snickered the blind bandit, the customary pirate accent making its return, “Dismees’d.”


“...nawt?” Bart’s laughter sounded like a terrible spectre, a hand slapping his counterpart in a friendly manner, “Ah’ deares’ Neut, go ‘anjoy dat lil’ kow o’er ‘der. ‘Eef ‘er arss steel intact, ye bee ‘er first moite.”

Impassive visage giving way to a sadistic smile, Neut promptly stripped himself naked while barking harsh orders to his men. As for Blind Bart, he only had one intent.

Indeed I’ve seen one like me after so many years. Tell me, boy… what is your Truth?


“E… E… Ed?” stammered a nervous knave wielding a pair of knifes, “Ye go’s first?”

“Dun b’ fool’ reetard!” snapped Ed, “See wat sod did too sex o’owr fellas jus now?”

The battle remains raging still, time had frozen in place for Ed and his fellowmen. Here before them stood a lion amongst men, his stature akin to a towering king of beasts. Silence accompanied him, terror was their companion. In one hand gripped a golden spear, the other clenched into a fist. None could discern the dead man’s identity, everyone knew this was a fight unwinnable. In a blinking of an eye, Ed and his other two friends were brutally cut down. Only then did the lion revert back to man.

“Guy!” snarled Southgate, the sword Gemma bequeathed unto him decorated with blood and bits of entrails stuck on its surface, “You son of a bitch better do something about that smiling son of a scoundrel, get me?!”

An initial dumbfound expression soon gave way to a massive fury unrivalled, any semblance of composure ceding ground to burgeoning rage. Never before had he imagined this to happen even though fundamental logic decreed otherwise, surely the pirates’ living toy was already wasted. Keen sapphire orbs unable to tear themselves off a broken lass continually raped, woe be unto those incurring the wrath of a god. A god not of holiness, but one belonging to war and spear. Never dwelling at any paradise utmost high, but wearing a coat made from flesh and blood. How Guy wished for the courage to confront himself, for he truly dreaded the day where people ended asking him where is Joenne Nances. An innocent party killed, another now akin to the living dead.

“Saints don't exist, boy. So long as you retain the courage to admit your flaws and face this cruel world, ten years from now you'll be a splendid man.”

Was that an advice or mockery disguised as such? Never before had Guy tried answering simple questions wholly profound, let alone just one. Recalling being mocked an idiot devoid of worth, how he wished time would suddenly reverse its course and staying put. Futile regrets begetting futile lamentations, he knew what needs to be done.

“Let’s have a wager, cretin. I bet you’ll get laid less than two years after I and Elys get married, deal? Just don’t tell me that stupidest obvious, okay?”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion currently, the young lion of Teesside allowing instincts to supplant his humanity. With a roar shattering the heavens and dispersing flocks of seagulls, Guy Cody now only desired one single result.

Their boss…


Feeling a tremor shaking her heart, Karen Tenias paused to contemplate the reason. Being locked up like a prisoner in luxury was one thing, unease ravaging her inner self quite another. Attempting to seek an absolute solace nearby, she reached out for that one thing preserving her intact from that trauma. Ransacking whatever left of her belongings, the daughter of House Tenias prayed fervently to the Father for a positive outcome.

Only to see a damaged portrait torn nearly into half, a split sundering Joenne’s smiling face.

Why… O’Father above, please don’t let this be true. I beseech You to grant Guy Your strength, for chivalry is the mark of men blessed with a lion’s heart…


“Arr’, boy, yer fearful o’me?”

Bloodshed for now ceased upon Blind Bart’s behest, no one was idiotic enough not to understand his intent. Before his cooing taunt stood a young boy no older than the one he fed to the sharks, his majestic form invoking a guess creeping from heart unto lips.

“Lion versus a bat,” his sudden shift in accent taking every outsider aback.

But not this boy whose glare betrayed a lion hungry for vengeance.

“Oy!” hollered Bart, “Yer scrummy dawgs betta fark ‘er till ah’ ‘ear ‘er beggin’ fer ‘mer, geddit?”

“Oh shit, this doesn’t look good, Scargray,” commented Bigan, his default demeanor usurped by a grimace brimming with hate and distaste, “What about our guys stuck below? You gonna let them rot?”

A sharp rapping sound from his spear butt echoed throughout the high noon sky, Bigan’s ears stung badly at close proximity. Understanding Moggray’s message, Bigan flashed a hushing sign one like Jase would surely understand. Thankfully Brynn Steele’s only child learnt well thus far, at least a nodding head would ensure its owner whole.

“Come here, cur!” shouted Southgate Garrat, his anger displayed in fullest glory, “You raped, you murdered, you plundered. Your bounty is here, cur!”

Jase turned a shocked glance at Southgate’s direction, fear of reprisal seizing his heart with the tongue held to ransom. Before he could even attempt calming a hardened soldier rapidly breaking down, somebody else did the job for him. A hard fist to the gut was all Bigan needed to silence an emotional man from getting under his greenest hide.

“Oh my, someone is gonna get killed.”

Swift as a pouncing cat, Lara von Dirkwind appeared from nowhere, her abrupt assault cementing whatever assumed by Guy more than mere days ago. However, her target was none other than Bart, any ambiguity pertaining to her personal allegiance temporary put to bed.

Bart would have nothing of that though, a dagger flashing across the Half Elf’s neck. Only to end up slicing empty air and a mocking laugh.

Definitely a mistress of assassination arts, Lara’s actual target was positioned merely two feet away or so. In a world where sellswords and knaves ply their trade, only one law matters as the golden rule.

“Do anything, but don’t get yourself caught.”

With those parting words, Lara set about disemboweling revelers born with a member each. Brandishing her dirk like a playful tabby cat, Neut became her first kill. Irony behind death during anal penetration not lost unto the fiery redhead, an ice cool calm ensured her mission accomplished with nary a hassle.

Stunning flashes of silvery death beguiling every watcher, only three individuals stayed unfazed. Moggray Tonn, Blind Bart, and lastly…

Three men in the middle of rape, the first to die being he who raped Joyce from behind. Then the one forcing his way with her mouth and lastly that rapist ploughing her crotch. The first blow was done through a normal grip method, the following two twice as brutal with her dagger held in reverse grip. Two slashes from behind and one plunging downward, three slashes not gone to waste especially for her third man. Better don’t get myself castrated alive someday down the road.


“Eh, the omen sucks man,” drawled Conwer, his flippant attitude earning a slap from behind.

“Do not make a jape against the death’s decree, boy,” rang a raspy voice, a wizened Elf glaring back like a living embodiment of judgment true, “We are cursed and blessed at the same time to dance with mortality.”

Conwer tried devising a witty response, only to be silenced by an individual only slightly stronger built than him.

Huan de Weon, Meister Elder and fellow brethren in black, please allow Conwer to enjoy his moment. For war is nigh, our Elven arms soon to taste blood and life taken from others rather than our own.”

Huan de Weon had seen many battles won and lost, many a worthy man fought and died. Yet, this fellow Homm’Nua no more half a century older than Conwer was no less an enigma incapable of fear. He who commands awe from the Shadow Brotherhood, outright fear from the rest. A little wonder why Karen Tenias was fortunate enough to survive those foul Demons’ murderous lust.

Woe unto you, O’Homm’Eot. Kerstein de ever hungry, his sabre wrought of Elven steel forever starving.


O’Treachery, thou roarest in crimson and gold.
O’Ceres utmost fair, thy blood and chastity sheddest I shalt avenge.