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Post by Ghost (Samm) on Nov 25, 2006 23:07:35 GMT -5
Heretic! Keep writing.. that's all I can say!
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Post by Ghost (Samm) on Dec 13, 2006 14:00:20 GMT -5
Any new crazy and awesome writings that rip face? If so, can you please post them? I want to read them!
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Post by Heretic on Dec 13, 2006 17:01:18 GMT -5
It was ever so cold on the girl's face. The chilly wind blew against her cheek, blushing its normally pale surface. "It will be all right, Connla," she said to the little boy pressed against her skirts. "Your father is a brave warrior." Unconsciously she pushed the hair back from her eyes and looked out across the rocky beach where the warriors stood silently. Rank upon rank of braided hair, dully gleaming swords, thick-shafted spears and proud, fierce faces painted with woad in twisting designs. She gripped her own spear tighter and ran a hand through the boy's black hair.
She heard two men coming up behind her, and she turned. Her husband, a tall man, strong and lithe, hair black as pitch and blue eyes so light they were almost colourless. Her uncle, old, his weathered face wrinkled, his white locks covered with leaves. He held a knife in one hand, and she felt a chill that was not from the wind go through her.
"They will make the sacrifice soon," her husband whispered, drawing her close for a moment before watching without expression the old man going down onto the beach. He must have felt the tremor go through her, for he slid his strong arm around her waist. "Aife, the goddess must be with us. The blood must be shed. Although," he said, raising his dark head and snorting with distaste, "Morrighan could probably do without the smell of roasting flesh."
She looked down again to where the old man had gone, now joined by others. They had lit a fire and were chanting, joined by the deep, harsh voices of the warriors about them. Through the linen of her dress she felt the rumble of Noisu's voice, calling out the words of the ancient chant. Slowly she joined in, adding her own voice to the ritual.
He was brought forth then, a captured Roman legionnaire. His dark, curly hair was matted with blood, and his body bore the marks of torment. Two warriors dragged him on his face to the druids, lifting him to his feet with a violent jerk. Her uncle raised the knife as the chanting swelled around him.
The Roman lifted his head then. His eyes were fierce, without fear. He reared and shouted, "They come! They come! You shall all fall in this place! Your souls will soon join mine in Tartarus!" He had time for no more, for the knife was drawn swiftly across his throat with a sheet of blood and his body was cast into the flames. He jerked, then lay still as the fires consumed him.
The warriors threw back their head and screamed. "MORRIGHAN!" The fearful name of the Celtic death goddess, the mistress of war and battle rang out across the breaking waves.
Aife felt her husband stiffen suddenly. Alarmed, she turned to him. His face was without expression but the blood seemed to have left it entirely. "What is it?" she asked, dreading the answer, knowing exactly what it was. "Do you see... her?"
He nodded slightly, and she followed his pointed finger to the seaside. She saw it too then: a woman, shaking as she wept, long black tresses falling over the bloody veils that she washed. Two ravens strutted about her, inspecting and observing the Celts arrayed about them. "I see her," she said, not quite willing to accept this. For a Celtic warrior to see the goddess meant that their death was at hand.
A hand touched her cheek. She looked up into Noisu's face, struck by the lack of fear. "It is our time," he said. He seemed to hesitate, then said, "At least we shall not be kept waiting for each other." His lips curled in a smile, and bending down he kissed her forehead.
"They come!" they heard. The boats came through the frothing sea, packed with armed men. She could see the heads of their spears and the gleam of swords. The banner was raised, an eagle at the head, and woven into the red cloth the four letters: SPQR.
The Celtic warriors let out a great shout, beating their weapons upon their shields. "Come and fight us," they taunted. "Send forth your strongest men! We are not afraid." A volley of arrows sailed over their heads, darting into the boats. Aife's heart leapt as she saw they fall, but sank again when she saw the Romans casually lift their broad shields. The shafts sunk into the wood, and no death-cries came from the boats.
Then she seized the hem of her dress and rent it. She stood, nearly naked, swirling tattoos covering her body. She screamed and heard the other women screaming, letting their hair fall loose. They were rewarded with looks of fear from the Romans. She shook her spear at them, holding it over her head and wailing.
With a rush, the Celts charged.
~
This is an interpretation of an actual battle that took place. The characters, while fictional, serve to put a human face to the Celtic men and women who made their last stand at the Isle of Mona, and were slaughtered there by Roman legionnaires.
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Post by Ghost (Samm) on Dec 13, 2006 17:19:22 GMT -5
Heretic... whoa.. I've read about that battle I believe.. and that is completely amazing the way you retold that.. and Morrigan!! Whoa... I forgot you knew about her.. Another beautiful piece yet again! Did you write that on the spot?
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Post by Koigokoro on Dec 13, 2006 18:38:52 GMT -5
Wow Heretic!!! Simply Amazing. You told me about that battle, right? and I already knew about Morrighan.... so it sort of made me double back! That was truly amazing. I want your writing ability..... (jealousy passes over Koigokoro's face...."Stupid Heretic... blessed with charm, good looks, AND writing ability's!!") no, I'm just joking!
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Post by Heretic on Dec 13, 2006 19:22:08 GMT -5
I guess this could be the pose page.
And thank you, Koigokoro. You have all three said qualities: that is, good looks, writing abilities, and charm.
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Post by Koigokoro on Dec 13, 2006 21:42:20 GMT -5
might want to re-thing on charm...... but thank-you!
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Post by Ghost (Samm) on Dec 13, 2006 23:26:09 GMT -5
Awww, man, you guys are amazing writers.. I wish I could write like you both!! *sulks in chair and wishes... then falls off chair laughing.*
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Post by Koigokoro on Jan 5, 2007 21:57:01 GMT -5
haha, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not all that good. Heretic is 10x better, by far.
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Post by Ghost (Samm) on Jan 9, 2007 14:49:55 GMT -5
Nay, you are amazing!!!!
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Post by Koigokoro on Jan 9, 2007 17:36:28 GMT -5
Ghost.... have you ever seen any of my righting, or just my poems.....
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Post by Heretic on Jan 9, 2007 17:59:14 GMT -5
I have. And Ghost is right. And you are wrong (poke.)
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Post by Heretic on Jan 9, 2007 18:03:08 GMT -5
I'm working on a piece, not finished yet, recounting the battle outside my house. It'll be mostly speculation, with very little actual fact because I know so little about the battle. I'll write what I know. So don't read this as an actual account of the battle, because this is fiction based very loosely on an event that happened before mankind learned how to forge weapons.
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Post by Koigokoro on Jan 9, 2007 18:54:20 GMT -5
just don't forget to have the trees as graves!
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Post by Koigokoro on Jan 9, 2007 18:55:21 GMT -5
I have. And Ghost is right. And you are wrong (poke.) I'm not as good as you...... >.<#!!!!!!!(POKE!!!)
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