Upcoming Mythklok chapter bitlet
I'm heading out of town for a week, so the Mythklok crew is gonna put their feet up, sip tiki drinks, and make catty remarks about poorly dressed celebrities (well, Ganesh and Raz will be doing that). I hope one of you will think to occasionally throw Sariel a pie.
Anyways, IF you're curious about where the story will be zig-zagging to after that, this is a fragment of one of the upcoming chapters that I've been poking at. This is NOT the next chapter, so it's out of sequence. And I don't 100% guarantee it's in final form.
And, this post is locked, so it's just us here talkin'.
The earth is not uniform. Not really.
Some say the Creator was in the midst of a passion for texturing the week He Created it.
(Others claim that it was simply a bit of a rush job, as he was hurrying to get back to his favorite telenovela. Conchita, Yolanda's fiery younger sister, broke her engagement to the Innkeeper's son that week.)
Whatever the reason, some spots on the earth have more magic than others.
And some have a lot more magic.
One of the most powerful, most secret places in this world exists only in the Dreamtime, deep inside the sacred rock, Uluru. There it has been tended to for generations by the Koori, the Dream Walkers of the place now known as Australia.
Recently, the Old One, Seth, has risen again to walk among men. No one is sure exactly how old the Old Ones are. They don't usually attend cocktail parties where you might pop the question. It is said that they might pre-date the Creator himself. And that they may even pre-date the plot line of Corazon de Azul, which would make them very old indeed.
Seth has seized rule of the major cities that lie along Australia’s extensive coastline. But he desperately wants to find the sacred place in its interior. He craves its power; he desires its secrets.
He's also just sort of an asshole.
Seth has recently allied himself with some other very powerful beings. He has been using their warrior skills hoping to rob the Koori of their secret.
The Koori are brave. And the Koori are wise. And the Koori are shredders of legend.
But the noble Koori cannot hold out forever against Seth's relentless assaults.
Each day, the Old One moves closer....
The Australian interior.....
"Koooooooriiiiiiiii! Come out and plaaaa-aaaaay!"
The taunt echoed up and down and all around the rock formations of the dry Australian interior.
The Seraphim looked at each other and chuckled cruelly. They were True Formed, and so were approximately as big as monster trucks. Each possessed three sets of wings, smaller sets covering their feet and heads, the largest - the thoracic wings, magnificent in flight, terrible in warfare, with feathers tough as steel - could have easily lofted a jumbo jet.
Recently there had been a war in Heaven. It wasn't the first such, but it may well have been the last. And these awesome fellows, unfortunately, had chosen the losing side. Fortunately for them, however, the land down under was now being run by a sociopathic madman, who, according to rumor (and angels, among their many other faults, adore gossip) may well have been the reincarnation of a particularly nasty Elder God. And this madman knew to value powerful allies.
The Seraph leading the taunts, who evidently did not feel striking enough as a six-winged behemoth, had styled his hair into an elaborate mohawk, and had in addition either dyed or magicked it a striking electric blue. Several of his large, laughing friends were similarly coiffed, leading one to speculate about the inevitable depletion of quality hair products in a post apocalyptic Australian outback.
The Koori Dream Walkers were themselves huddled not terribly far from where the taunting angels now crouched. "Our immediate future appears bleak, O most excellent brothers," whispered one.
"And I greatly fear for our continued access to high quality hair care products, dudes," another answered, to much impassioned nodding.
Suddenly, another being appeared in their midst.
"Most excellent Pickles dude! We are most, most pleased to see you!" the Koori dudes cheered.
"Koori doods!" Pickles exclaimed, embracing the leader.
"This is our most desperate hour, most excellent Pickles dude."
"Don't worry, doods! I brought friends,” Pickles cheerily told them.
Pickles waved over to where two beings stood. In contrast to the Seraphim, they were not terribly large. They were dressed all in black and wore dark sunglasses. The woman, who was by far the shorter of the two, had long, dark hair. The man put a hand through his close-cropped light hair. He looked as if his head had recently been shaved.
"Uh," commented the lead Koori. "Not to doubt your sincerity, my most excellent friend, Pickles, but we are currently under fire by a contingent of Seraphim warriors. Should you perhaps have brought more friends?"
"And maybe some small arms?"
"And a tank?"
Pickles looked back.
His two black clad friends looked at each other and smiled.
And then in a flash of steel she was holding a very big sword. And he flourished in his hands two machetes, which he held, crossing his chest.
"We're just gonna go have a little chat," the man grinned.
And then they weren't standing there anymore.
Anyways, IF you're curious about where the story will be zig-zagging to after that, this is a fragment of one of the upcoming chapters that I've been poking at. This is NOT the next chapter, so it's out of sequence. And I don't 100% guarantee it's in final form.
And, this post is locked, so it's just us here talkin'.
The earth is not uniform. Not really.
Some say the Creator was in the midst of a passion for texturing the week He Created it.
(Others claim that it was simply a bit of a rush job, as he was hurrying to get back to his favorite telenovela. Conchita, Yolanda's fiery younger sister, broke her engagement to the Innkeeper's son that week.)
Whatever the reason, some spots on the earth have more magic than others.
And some have a lot more magic.
One of the most powerful, most secret places in this world exists only in the Dreamtime, deep inside the sacred rock, Uluru. There it has been tended to for generations by the Koori, the Dream Walkers of the place now known as Australia.
Recently, the Old One, Seth, has risen again to walk among men. No one is sure exactly how old the Old Ones are. They don't usually attend cocktail parties where you might pop the question. It is said that they might pre-date the Creator himself. And that they may even pre-date the plot line of Corazon de Azul, which would make them very old indeed.
Seth has seized rule of the major cities that lie along Australia’s extensive coastline. But he desperately wants to find the sacred place in its interior. He craves its power; he desires its secrets.
He's also just sort of an asshole.
Seth has recently allied himself with some other very powerful beings. He has been using their warrior skills hoping to rob the Koori of their secret.
The Koori are brave. And the Koori are wise. And the Koori are shredders of legend.
But the noble Koori cannot hold out forever against Seth's relentless assaults.
Each day, the Old One moves closer....
The Australian interior.....
"Koooooooriiiiiiiii! Come out and plaaaa-aaaaay!"
The taunt echoed up and down and all around the rock formations of the dry Australian interior.
The Seraphim looked at each other and chuckled cruelly. They were True Formed, and so were approximately as big as monster trucks. Each possessed three sets of wings, smaller sets covering their feet and heads, the largest - the thoracic wings, magnificent in flight, terrible in warfare, with feathers tough as steel - could have easily lofted a jumbo jet.
Recently there had been a war in Heaven. It wasn't the first such, but it may well have been the last. And these awesome fellows, unfortunately, had chosen the losing side. Fortunately for them, however, the land down under was now being run by a sociopathic madman, who, according to rumor (and angels, among their many other faults, adore gossip) may well have been the reincarnation of a particularly nasty Elder God. And this madman knew to value powerful allies.
The Seraph leading the taunts, who evidently did not feel striking enough as a six-winged behemoth, had styled his hair into an elaborate mohawk, and had in addition either dyed or magicked it a striking electric blue. Several of his large, laughing friends were similarly coiffed, leading one to speculate about the inevitable depletion of quality hair products in a post apocalyptic Australian outback.
The Koori Dream Walkers were themselves huddled not terribly far from where the taunting angels now crouched. "Our immediate future appears bleak, O most excellent brothers," whispered one.
"And I greatly fear for our continued access to high quality hair care products, dudes," another answered, to much impassioned nodding.
Suddenly, another being appeared in their midst.
"Most excellent Pickles dude! We are most, most pleased to see you!" the Koori dudes cheered.
"Koori doods!" Pickles exclaimed, embracing the leader.
"This is our most desperate hour, most excellent Pickles dude."
"Don't worry, doods! I brought friends,” Pickles cheerily told them.
Pickles waved over to where two beings stood. In contrast to the Seraphim, they were not terribly large. They were dressed all in black and wore dark sunglasses. The woman, who was by far the shorter of the two, had long, dark hair. The man put a hand through his close-cropped light hair. He looked as if his head had recently been shaved.
"Uh," commented the lead Koori. "Not to doubt your sincerity, my most excellent friend, Pickles, but we are currently under fire by a contingent of Seraphim warriors. Should you perhaps have brought more friends?"
"And maybe some small arms?"
"And a tank?"
Pickles looked back.
His two black clad friends looked at each other and smiled.
And then in a flash of steel she was holding a very big sword. And he flourished in his hands two machetes, which he held, crossing his chest.
"We're just gonna go have a little chat," the man grinned.
And then they weren't standing there anymore.