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.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Problem Controversy?

In the greatest show of visual controversy yet, the latest SAFRA ad managed to attract plenty of friendly fire. And by friendly, I mean two NS dudes bio one chio-bu. The funny thing is that the creativity factor didn't sit well with many (?) netizens due to implied misogyny.

The ironic shit? Every man enjoys bio chio bu one unless married alrdy. Then again, having a wedding band will only mean the wife having a legit IOU to use against you. So married men, you've been warned. For me, I just feel that it's an issue of creativity misplaced. Any private gym pulling this off won't unplug Mt Vesuvius itself, I'm sure of that. (Link)

So why am I doing this stupid/pointless post? Because once people went back on their word, you won't give a **** unless you happen to be the one swindled. Especially when it comes to $$$. Especially when you get the death sentence after accidentally stepping on another unrelated person's toes. Therefore, I decided to channel my unworthy anger to something much more constructive.

P.S: Must be the haze, man...

Dark Arrow

NE 230 Summer

Slarvea… a land harbouring many memories. Then again, the same can be said for many other places. It’s already summer, but the wind is nevertheless balmy. Guess that’s why I prefer spending my summers here and not anywhere else.

“Well, ‘tis been a year since we met, old friend.”

They say the only gift better than a smile is a nice bottle of wine, I’m pretty sure Markawhelv will agree. They say the finest wine comes from the northern fiefs of Teutonia, I find it a travesty of logic to see nobody mentioning milk wine. There’s a common Kalaran saying: Ordinary folks have ordinary tastes, extraordinary ones are those deemed exotic.

If a genius ain’t exotic, I don’t know who else qualifies. Uncorking my wineskin, I flash a smile towards my kolaresh. Whatever happening countless years ago now seem like events taken place yesterday, I blame the sweet and sour taste belonging to my milk wine.


NE 200 Summer

“What do you mean by that?!”

Damn, I really hate people shouting in my ear. Why always me?

“No reinforcements, we’re screwed.”

The look on Tomas Daniev’s face is totally priceless, I bet no handsome sum could ever rival this. Maybe I should use a better word than “screwed”.

“Markawhelv!” barked Daniev in anger, his tone reminding me of some rabid mutt prepared to snap my fingers off, “The Tribe of Stream has gone back on their oath sworn!”

Wait, did I hear another story being told? Surely Markawhelv isn’t some cretin capable of buying some half assed contract sealed.

“The Tribe of Stream have never promised us anything,” replied my friend, his flaxen beard stroked thoughtfully, “They merely assured us of providing any help they can spare.”

“And they have plenty.”

All eyes are onto me, it definitely feels good to be noticed. If there’s anything I hate most, it would be assuming that invisible man. At least getting attention via acting stupid is a far better alternative.

“You better elaborate, dog!”

Okay, Daniev is really pissed off right now. I’m a Sudhlit, not a dog for fuck’s sake!

“Hold your ire, Tomas!”

Great, I got a belated saviour. Apparently, I can swear off drinks and bitches temporarily due to excessive force suffered.

“There’s no point shaking a worthless cur. I’ve just returned from the zoning.”

“What’s your report then, good Teryav?”

“Lost nine men out of every ten. Try counting it with ten fingers, Provum Markawhelv!”

Okay, so even the fiercest veteran available got himself nearly fucked. Moral of the story? Might is stronger than Magic, that is provided people believed in the latter. Nuva Teryav must be blessed with a damned strong wife.


“What? You mad?”

Yes, I’m really barking mad. Which part of Markawhelv’s orders do you not understand? Tapping my foot impatiently while seated on a low couch must have upped the temperature here. One has to give Slarveans some major credit though. ‘Tis one matter to live your life in a tent, quite another to build empty forts in case invasion says aye. If this is something only savages are able to do, then I daren’t try imagining how many idiots have lived and died in comfort. At least it feels nice sitting on something draped with bear pelts. Those beasts are greatly revered in Slarvea although it seems like a paradox to see them hunted due to that. Maybe there’s really a savage untamed living within even the most intelligent person.

“I am not mad, my dear Palus Irov. I see that your face have gone purple. Eaten something unclean last night? I told you not to eat that half cooked cony.”

Okay, it’s been confirmed. I should have thrown that cony leg straight into the fire.

“Look, I’m not interested in playing games with a barking mad Sudhlit mongrel. All I want is this: Any plans in mind? I’d have fed you to the wilds had not our Kammand ordering us not to do it.”

Indeed Provum Markawhelv knows Tristan Ajax well, but not well enough. You can only affirm whatever the other person wants you to know. That’s why winners in every conflict are the finest swindlers.

“When you lend s sheep to a stranger, why makes you do so?”

Seeing Palus Irov gaping like a moron must have been the most satisfying moment ever, some things are indeed meant to be priceless. Slarvs don’t easily loan their cattle or flock to any stranger unless the borrower is willing to swear an oath. While there are rumours of individuals gutted alive due to their sheer audacity, at least I’m not that crazy. Either that or…

“Tristan Ajax is a thief and liar. He has no honour!”

I don’t know who has the balls to address my full name, but at least he’s correct. I am a thief and liar, so throw me into jail then.

“Are you what they say?”

Well, blow me down. How old is that lad? Fifteen? Sixteen? Definitely nowhere older than that. I’m gonna have fun with this.

“What’s your name, boshev?”

“Aran,” proclaimed the golden blond proudly, “Aran, son of Alisev.”


“No, sier. Nextborn.”

Well, that explains why he’s so scrawny then. I should introduce him to dear Bellnox. She’s gotta be the finest entertainer of men and I actually spent a night with her before going north. Sadly, that also means I’ll have to abduct him down south. The Slarvs basically loathe their Kalaran half-bred siblings with a passion, hence a no-go territory.

“Why not follow me since you’re so interested to know what I’ll be doing?”

Oh, I see tension and Slarvean fire here. Walking on knife’s edge has always been my specialty, I wouldn’t be standing straight and alive if opinions really matter most.

“Aran, son of Alisev. I know what you desire. Task yourself as my arms bearer and you shall be duly rewarded with truth and honesty. Not by my will but through an oath willing sworn.”


Present day

‘Tis a battle swift and brutal, I spoke to myself. Aran claimed that I saved his sister from getting raped, whoever she or the horny gang was anyway. If only I could recall how a hero manage to save a damsel in distress.

“You are no son of mine! My son is dead when this family’s servant wench seduced him to be poor!”

No son of my father? Well, that bloody old man was right apart from making Marges sound like a paid servant. Servant wench, yes. Getting paid? A bloody hell no. The moment my family employed scoundrels to do their dirty job was the night where I claimed my first kill.

“No… please… sadeh… talk! I talk! Just don’t kill me!”

Sadeh? Sorry, a sadeh doesn’t castrate his fellow males, let alone gutting them and leaving the dying for the condors.

“This is an abomination! Kish, what have you done to my name?”

That old scoundrel was right after all. His name is none of my business because it has never been this way all the while. Fuck Babin Sinh.

Heroes are not birthed from craven swine, but through mundane men. From now on, your name is no longer Kish.

Such was Leon’s final words before he bequeathed Fail-not unto me, so much for a dead man departing in peace. Guess that’s why I hate being a heroic figure.

“Well, time to go,” there was no mirth present in me as I got up, a finely cut stone made of topaz answering my smile with a twinkle, “Finished half the milk wine, the rest belongs to you.”

As the whitish brew watered Provum Markawhelv’s final destination, a refreshing summer breeze brings me back to that moment where the wind of war prevailed alongside with victory…

"Blow the horn, Aran. But only after I fired the arrow.”

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but who else can I trust?”

“Shut the fuck up, boshev. I will be aiming for anyone under the enemy’s banner, sound it straightaway after I released my bow.”

‘Tis a portrait of chaos, the main force was the first to strike. In war, assault comes before attrition. Yet, no one has the right to decide the numbers deployed. Then another horn was sounded, its owner neither me nor Markawhelv, let alone belonging to Aran.

It was Palus Irov announcing the advent of victory, the second army returning from a bountiful raid on the camp fortified by our foes. Only a battle won, but at least both Teutonia and the Kalaran Empire got their noses bloodied. The War of Chieftains had just started.


Background notes

Kolaresh: Slarvean term for comrade. Deemed offensive for any foreigner to use it.

Boshev: Slarvean term for any individual, male or female, below the age of seventeen, which is the adult age for every Slarvean.

Sier: Address of respect used for any man of senior age.

Sadeh: Sudhlit address of respect for any person born in a high ranking clan. Used within first or second person perspective.

Additional notes

The Sudhlits basically named their clans according to the patriarch’s name. Every Sudhlit is only entitled his/her first name. Concept of last name is literally unheard of.

Sinh is quintessentially the last name for every clan patriarch, its use being a symbol pointing to the head status.

Kish is a real person’s name. Or rather, it’s an Israelite name. The father of Saul, first king of Israel, was actually called Kish.

The War of Chieftains was a complicated conflict involving first the various Chieftains vying to be the Plains Lord due to the incumbent passing away abruptly without a will. Claims based on both deed and name were disputed by each other, hence resulting in a full blown war. At the same time, an alliance of Teutonia and the Kalaran Empire decided to march against Slarvea for reasons unknown. The alliance itself was something unseen and unheard of even till the current era. The war was finally resolved via mutual truce forged, but not before millions perished and a painstaking period of political wrangling.