Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts

Monday, August 16, 2010

Miss Falfaren catches a werewolf


I

The elf Ireniana Falfaren and her halfling companion Melissa Tarsburrough walked quietly into the lavishly decorated ball room that located in the eastern wing of Mauterinn's Bronze Scale Inn.


Drumming her fingers on the handle of her sword, Falfaren scanned the entire ball room, staring at the dozens of guests who were lining up to fill their mugs, steins, and wine goblets.  Melissa, whose cape and leathers matched that of Falfaren, stared at the purple and gold banners that hung around the room.  Each banner was lined with golden feathers and embossed with the image of a foaming mug resting on a plate.


The halfling's almond shaped blue eyes stared at a group of drunkards waving their half-filled mugs back and forth while stumbling over one another.


"Is this all they do?" Melissa muttered to the detective in a disapproving voice as her fingers went to the handle of her own sword sheathed on her belt.


Falfaren smirked, her slanted eyes watching a group of dwarves across the room sharing a keg of ale.  "This is not so bad Melissa, after all it is a party."


“It is a celebration dedicated to the god of wine,“ Melissa said as they they walked over to a small square table.  Already at the table was a muscular green skinned ork and a human with short sandy brown hair, both of them covered  from head to toe in the standard chain armor worn by all of the city’s officers.


Falfaren greeted the two as she extended her hand.  “Evening gentlemen, my name is Ireniana Falfaren and this is my companion Melissa Tarsburrough."


"Where did you get the chicken and the corn?" Melissa asked curiously, looking at the meals both officers had in front of them.


"At the table at the other side of the room," The human replied as he rose to shake the elf's hand.  "I am Captain Nestor Rogers, and this is my partner Graymood Danrys.  He was just promoted to Lieutenant this morning."


Falfaren removed her plum colored fedora, revealing her long clurly black hair.  She glanced at the ork as he stroked his fumanchu mustache.  "Graymood Danrys, that name sounds familiar."


"That‘s because I used to fight in the arena,“ the ork responded in his baritone voice, his thin lips parting in a smile.  “I have been a city officer for the last six months, but Nestor and I still fight in the city arena during our time off.”


"I was a Sergeant of the city watch, back home in Delnair,“ Falfaren said with a smile of her own.  “Melissa and I have been living in Mauertain for a little over nine months.


Nestor nodded and said,” Yes we heard about the case with the young girl and the demon cult you busted.  Perhaps you would like to share the table with us.”


"Consider the offer accepted," the halfling answered in a casual voice.  "What brings you both here?"


The officers smiled as a robust red haired serving girl brought over four steins and set them in the middle of table, then set down two plates of chicken, potatoes, and corn in front of Falfaren and Melissa.  "We are here to celebrate Graymood‘s promotion."


"Marshall Armarose insisted we celebrate by drinking,” the ork added, showing his left arm that was lined with purple scars.  "What brings the great Miss Falfaren and Melissa?  You are a long way from your office near the docks."


Falfaren was about to respond, when she saw a blurred reflection on the side of her beer stein.  Putting her response to the ork's question on hold, she glanced back to see a tall elven priest standing over her shoulder.  She noticed the wine red robes he wore over his olive colored skin.  "And what can I do for a servant of the Winelord?" she asked in a slightly irritated voice.


The priest extended his hand and Falfaren quickly brought out her invitation.  "Here is my ticket, written at the bottom it says ‘Ireni Falfaren, coming here in place of Charlie Hawkshadow’.  He was unable to attend.  Melissa here is my plus one."


"I know who you are Miss Ireniana Falfaren," the priest said in the elvish dialect as he pulled over a chair from the table behind him.  "I am Irvinevell Savigon, from a small village outside of Delnair, although I have been at this lovely establishment many years before."


The priest glanced at Nestor and Graymood, before leaning close and whispering," Perhaps you could join me at my table with my fellow priests instead of sitting here with these brutes whose only quality is they know how to swing a weapon.  From there you will be able to be close to High Priestess Natasha Thorn as she gives her speech."


"Tempting," Falfaren responded, stroking her chin as if she had a beard while glancing at the rips in the priest's cuffs and leggings.  "But if you knew my reputation, you would know that I rarely keep in contact with anyone in Delnair, except of loved ones. You would also know that due to my experiences as a child, and my view of religion as a whole, I prefer not to be seen in the company of pompous clergymen like yourself."


Before Irvinevell could respond to Falfaren's words, Nestor and Graymood stood up from their seats, causing the priest to walk back to his table.


"Graymood and I are going to fill our cups," the captain began while watching the priest.  "Perhaps we could fill yours as well."


"No thank you," the halfling said with a shake of her head as she began eating.


Falfaren smiled and leaned back in her chair.  "I guess I will have Melissa's cup then.  Bring whatever they have that is strong."


Nestor nodded and looked to his friend.  "I think we can find something that will live up to the lady's expectations."


As the gentlemen left, Melissa leaned close to Falfaren and whispered," He is still staring this way, and talking with his fellow priests.  They all seem to be wearing silver medallions."


"That is the standard of all priests," Falfaren said as Nestor and Graymood quickly returned with their hands full of drinks.  She took a big gulp of one drink and said,” This is quite strong, nice work gentlemen.”


All eyes turned towards the front of the ball room where a beautiful woman wearing priestly robes walked onto the small stage.  Her shoulder length black hair was parted down the middle.


"Thank you all for attending," the woman whom Falfaren and Melissa guessed was the high priestess Natasha Thorn.  "We all must thank the Winelord for this occasion to come together and celebrate the good things that he and the other gods have brought us in life."


Sounds of prayers thanking the wine god echoed throughout the room.  Melissa kept her silence while Falfaren drank her ale in a loud and obnoxious manner.


Natasha's wide eyes stared at the elf, who finished with a belch.  "Oh please continue sister, I am sure we are all eager to hear the glorious words of Duncan," Falfaren said as Thorn's eyes, along with the eyes of her fellow priests, set upon her.


The high priestess closed her eyes.  "Tonight is not just about sharing drinks and memories-" her words were replaced by rapid breaths while her left arm clutched her right arm.  "We must also not forget..."  She let out a grunt as she bent low.


Just as the priests jumped from their table to help their priestess when all light-candlelit and magical-went out-followed by the silence of the music.


The guests began to whisper amongst themselves until a feral growl filled the room.  It was followed by a blood curdling cry and the tearing of clothing and flesh.


The priests of the Winelord chanted a spell that re-illuminated the room.  The high priestess Thorn appeared to have vanished.  Laying on the ground where she had stood was the body of a dwarf covered in his own blood.  Irvinevell quickly turned over his body, revealing to everyone, the dwarf’s stomach that was ripped open.


"Jondin...," whispered the elf before stepping back to allow the remainder of his brethren to carry the dwarf's body.


The guests began whispering amongst themselves their theories of how the priest was killed by a creature that must have taken Natasha.  Irvinevell held his hand up to silence the guests.  "Our high priestess is missing and one of our brothers is dead."  His eyes went over to Nestor as he added," It appears the Mauertain guards are not as efficient in their protection as they boast."


Both Nestor and Graymood were about to repond, when Melissa stood up.  "And why weren't you able to protect your high priestess?  Perhaps you were too drunk..."  She stopped as two of the priests walked forward, which she responded by drawing her sword.


"I am merely saying that officers of high ranking should have been able to stand up a murderous beast," the priest corrected as he made his way over to the table, his eyes looking with Melissa‘s.  "However-" Irvinevell gasped as Falfaren had drawn her sword and placed its tip at the priest's neck.


"Then perhaps it's best if you let more qualified individuals take care of this matter," Falfaren snapped.  "Brother Irvinevell, you will continue your little party outside of this ball room while my companions and I get to the bottom of this matter."


Irvinevell glared at the elf holding the sword.  "You?  The one who was drowning herself in alcohol while Natasha was singing the praises and glory of Lord Duncan."


Falfaren sneered as she stood up and walked past the priest.  "If your god is a true lover of the drink, he would have encouraged that I partake in downing the sweet nectar."


Before the priest could say any more, a woman with strawberry blond hair stepped between Falfaren and the priest.  Although she wore a silk dress and expensive shoes, Falfaren could tell by her stature and the fire in her eyes that she was a woman of authority.


“I am Marshall Juliet Armarose,“ the woman said as she stared directly into the priest’s eyes.  “These men here are the finest in Mauertain’s guards, and with them are two citizens who have been making a name for themselves by helping others with matters that we are unable to attend to.“


Falfaren and Melissa both felt flattered as Marshall Armarose continued,“ And since this crime has taken place outside of a church, you have no right to tell anyone, especially my officers, or these women that they can not partake in this investigation.  Now I suggest you go interrogate, pray, weep, or whatever it is you priests do for your dead."


Offended and angered by the marshall’s words, Irvinevell glared at Falfaren once more, then walked back to his fellow priests to escort the remainder of the guests out of the ball room.  “I assure you marshall, that since this crime will be handled by the church.”


Armarose turned to both Melissa and Falfaren and said,” I have heard some good things about you from the citizens of the city.  We could always use some help on matters like these.”


“We would be honored to help marshall,” Falfaren answered.


“Good to hear,” Armarose said as she looked to Nestor and Graymood and added,” Captain, lieutenant, I know that I gave you both the night off, but if you can, see that you help these two anything they need.  Now if you excuse me, I have to tell my guards to keep an eye on the guests.”


“Yes ma’am,” the two officers said in unison.


As the marshall walked away, Falfaren looked where the dwarf was slain, noting the splatters of blood and tiny chunks of entrails left on the floor.  Nestor and Graymood stood a few feet away from the elf, ready to help.


"From the way the body had looked, it seemed the poor man was ripped apart by an animal,” Falfaren said, looking at her three companions.   “I guess that would explain the growl when the room went dark."


“I guess that clears us two-legged folk,” Graymood remarked.


Nestor folded his hand and shuffled his feet.  "Such a kill would be have to be quick, requiring one of speed.”


""There may be something else in this room, something the creature dropped, see if either of you two can find anything,” Falfaren  said to the officers.  “Drink some ale if you think it helps you."


Nestor and Graymood exchanged glances, confused that the detective would suggest consuming alcohol on an investigation.


"Or just leave the ale alone for a bit,” Falfaren said quickly, looking at their faces.  Looking at her Halfling friend, she asked  “What have you found Melissa?”


The halfling crossed her arms and walked in a circle.  "I haven't found much," she answered as she bent down and picked up a few strands of long white hair.  'Except this that is.  I agree that it could have been an animal that attacked the priest and nabbed Thorn, but we would have known if an animal came in."


Falfaren's lips parted in a grin.  "How so my dear Melissa?"


Melissa rolled her eyes, hating whenever Falfaren challenged her theories.  "I don't know.  There could have been a crash.  Perhaps those long ears of yours would have heard it come in, or we might have smelled it."


"There are beasts in the forests near Mauertain," Falfaren said, looking at the hair Melissa held in her fingertips.  "I think we are correct to assume this was the work of a lycanthrop; a were beast if you will.  There has been a rumor going around that were-wolves and were-boars have been roaming these parts."


“Maybe a were-wolf took Thorn,” Graymood said as he bent down and peered into a small puddle of the dwarf’s blood.  “Is that a rock?”


As Nestor walked over and handed his partner a napkin.  Melissa asked.  "But we would seen the were-wolf"  She took a step back, unaware that her right foot touched a small rectangle in the floor.


Falfaren was about to add to her theory, when she the floor came out from underneath her and she fell.


The halfling went over to the hole and looked down, seeing Falfaren standing in a pool of murky water.  "Are you all right?"


"Yes it seems that my fall was stopped by a large body," the elf answered as she rose to her feet.  "Well Melissa, it looks like we found how the beast could have escaped."


Nestor and Graymood looked down into the hole as Falfaren pulled up a large, well rounded headless corpse with sewage dripping and running down her arms.  While Melissa suppressed the urge to vomit, Graymood said," It appears that you have found the body of an ogre Miss Falfaren.  He looked like a healer from the arena"


"His name is Gorg," Nestor commented, crossing his arms.  “He was a nice enough fellow.”


"Interesting," the elf remarked, finding similar rips and tears in the body and throat that she found on the dwarf.  She then saw the small chain Graymood was holding in his hand "What is it you have there?"


“This was found in the dwarf’s blood,” the ork answered, holding up the chain.  Dangling from the chain was a small silver medallion with an elvish rune engraved in the center.”


Melissa looked at the charm and asked,” Do either of you know if this kind of charm is sold in the city?”


Nestor nodded as his partner handed him the chain.  “That looks like something you could find at a jewelry shop.”


“Yes, but that specific rune is designated for a high ranking official of the church, or nobility,” Falfaren added as she got a look at the medallion.  “Captain, do you think your fellow officers would be able to handle a lycanthrop?  In case they come up against one?”


Nestor shrugged his shoulders and replied,” They really should not have any trouble.   Why do you ask?”


The elf glanced down at the body of the ogre and said,” We have to talk to Marshall Armarose and tell her that a killer may be inside of the inn.  Now could you both be dears and help me out of this hole?”


II


Falfaren, Melissa, and the officers met with Marshall Armarose in the Bronze Scale’s lobby and explained what they found with the chain and the trap door.  After getting assurance that everyone would be secure inside of the inn, Falfaren and Melissa examined the various priests and guests who were in the ballroom.


Once they were done with the guests, the marshall had Graymood lead them back into the ball room where they would be kept until - as she had put it - a development was made into the investigation.


Melissa walked past Falfaren as the priests of the Winelord walked to the ball room.  “We demand to be released to find our priestess,” Irvinedell said, looking at both Falfaren and Melissa.  “High Priestess Thorn is out there with that monster, she could be dead.”


“Mauertain’s finest is keeping their eyes posted if Natasha Thorn,” Nestor assured the priest.  “We’re going to inspect the inn, so if you could please wait into the ball room.”


“So we are to be kept here like common criminals,” the high priest interrupted. 


“For now yes,  as we believe that the killer is in this hotel,” the captain responded, suppressing the urge to snap at the priest.  “We have Mauertain’s finest on this matter.”


“Mauertain‘s finest indeed” the priest spat.


“Think of this as trying to protect you,“ Falfaren began.  “We also found a hole in the floor where we found the body of an orge who was wearing robes similar to the dwarf’s,”


The priest closed his eyes.  “Was his death like Jondin’s?”


The detective nodded at Irvinedell’s question.  “If you are wondering if his body was torn apart like the dwarf, then yes.”


“Then the high priestess is surely in danger,” Irvinedell whispered.


Falfaren had stepped away from the priest when Nestor walked to the end of the hall and said,” Miss Falfaren, I think we may have found something upstairs.”


She quickly followed Nestor around the corner where they saw droplets of blood on the stairs, leading up to the next floor.  Just as they were about to walk up the stairs, the high priestess appeared, her arms covered in scratches while a thin trail of dry blood went across her forehead.


“Miss Thorn, how convenient of you to appear,” Falfaren said in a quick voice.   “We thought the beast may have carried you off.”


The priestess glared at the detective, before walking back to her brethern.  “I managed to fight him off,” she said while breathing heavily.  “My ears must have heard him going into the kitchen.”


“Perhaps you could lead us there,” Nestor said as he and Falfaren were joined by Melissa and Graymood.


Thorn brought the four over to the kitchen where two servers and two cooks lay dead on the floor, their bodies torn viciously.


Nestor shook his head while both Melissa and Graymood held their hands over their mouths.  Only Falfaren stood there, no emotion in her face.  She stared at the large stains of blood and the frightened facial expressions on the bodies.


“You think we would have heard their screams, or the same type of growl,” Melissa said as she walked around one of the cooks.


“I am surprised that you did not hear anything Miss Falfaren,” Graymood said.


Nestor nodded and added,” It’s as if some kind of magic was at work here.”


For a moment, Melissa, and Graymood stared at the captain, while Falfaren approached the high priestess.  “The captain is right,” she began in a calm voice as she reached for the sword on her belt.  “Perhaps some sort of magic was at work.  Care to tell us what happened Miss Thorn?”


The high priestess slowly backed away from the detective.  “I do not know what you are speaking of Miss Falfaren.”


“I think you do,” Falfaren said as she glanced at the four bodies on the floor.  “After you seemingly vanished from the ball room, you came into this kitchen where you were still transformed.  The kitchen staff saw you, but they never had a chance, and you quickly tore them to pieces, just as you did the dwarf in the ball room and the ogre you killed prior to the feast.”


“Irvenedell said that you all came to the inn the night before,” Falfaren said.  “Although we can not tell when it happened, but between yesterday evening and this morning, you must have transformed and so tracked him down, finished him, and then dumped his body in the trapped door that led into the sewer system.  You could have escaped, but you figured that someone would have found the body and they would have just dismissed the crime as a simple mugging.”


“But how did she find out about the trapped door?” Nestor asked.


“Irvenedell must have told you, as he had come to the inn previously,” Falfaren said.  “We also found the necklace that must have fallen off of you during your struggle in the ball room.”


“You have no proof the necklace is mine,” Thorn said, her hands balling into fists.  “It’s elvish, that necklace could belong to Irvinedell.”


“We did not mention that the necklace was elvish,” Graymood said, looking at Falfaren.


“My mother owned a necklace similar to that one,“ Falfaren added,” And Irvinedell was never referred to as a high priest, by anyone in his order.  He may be an authority figure within the group, but second only to you.”


Nestor turned to the high priestess and said,” Natasha Thorn, I think you should come with-” the captain never finished his words as Thorn charged him and drove her right fist into his armor.  She was about to go at his throat when Falfaren and Melissa lunged at her with their swords.


As the hair started to rise on her arms, Thorn took one look at the elf, then ran for the door.  “We have to stop her before she gets to the ball room,” Graymood said as he helped his partner to his feet.


“I think we can manage that Melissa,” Falfaren said as she and her Halfling companion ran for the door.


“Do you think she would go back to the ball room?” Melissa asked  as she and Falfaren left the kitchen.


The detective was about to answer when they heard she saw Thorn run past them and up the stairs.   They quickly raced up the stairs, only to find that the high priestess had jumped out of the window and into the city.


Falfaren cursed before turning to Melissa and saying,” We just let a creature who has killed six on the loose into a city with hundreds of people.”


“If there was ever ways to impress the Mauertain Guard and solidify our reputation among city officials,” Melissa commented  in a dry voice.  “This would not be one way to do it.”



III


Falfaren cursed as she looked up at the full moon that shared the night sky with thousands of stars.


"You've been staring at that thing a dozen times now," Melissa said as they crossed the intersection where Stoddarvale's Military Square intersected with its Nobles District.


"Do you think it was wise leaving Nestor and Graymood back at the inn?" Melissa asked the elf.


"They seemed eager to stay behind and keep the guests under control," Falfaren answered as they followed a faint scent of blood and sweat.  "They also were eager to keep the Drunklord's cronies off of our backs while we go search for their high priestess."


The two companions heard a scream come from down the street.  Drawing their weapons they raced down the street until they stopped at a small shop where the wooden door was broken down.  "I think we found what we were looking for," Falfaren said with a grin.


The stench of blood and rotten flesh filled the halfling's nose as she drew her sword as she said," And I thought the scent of you coming out of that trap door was bad, this is much worse.  The smell of death is much worse."


"One of life's little blessings my dear Melissa," Falfaren commented as she walked towards the door.  "I will go first.  I‘m sure Miss Thorn would love nothing more than to sink her claws into me."


Melissa muttered a soft prayer she entered the house behind Falfaren.  The halfling was not surprised to find the high priestess on the floor, her naked body sprouting fur and claws.  Natasha's red feral eyes looked at her, then at Falfaren.


"Miss Thorn, I believe you are resisting arrest Falfaren proclaimed in a proud voice.  "Unfortunately your fellow priests will not be able to help you this time.”


"That explains how the room was covered in darkness," Melissa said, reflecting back on the events in the ball room.  “Her priests must have cast a spell to cover the room.  We may have to keep them for questioning.”



"Please, my fellow priests were only trying to help," Natasha said in a quivering voice.  "I prayed to the Winelord to keep this curse from coming. but he warned me that he was powerless to stop it."


"A lot of good that did," the elf remarked, slowly moving her sword from left to right in a taunting gesture.  "You should have not come to the ball."


"It was Irvinevell's idea that we hold the ball, in hopes that I may be cured by my god if we held a feast in his honor," snapped the priestess as rage and hunger was coming over her.  “We chose the Bronze Scale because of the escape route, but he did not figure that the escape route would be blocked off by previous cave ins.”


"I take grief in knowing I killed one of my brethren and Grog, a servant who was looking for work,“ the high priestess said, as she rose to her feet.  “But as for you, who spurns the gods and flaunts her beliefs, I will enjoy ripping you into shreds."


Natasha lunged at Falfaren, slashing her claws in a wild manner.  Falfaren sidestepped the priestess and stabbed her blade at the beast's throat, only to have it swatted out of her hand.


Before Falfaren could grab her sword, Natasha tackled her to the floor and bit into her lower neck, near the collarbone.


After letting out an irritated scream, the elf drove her fist several times into the back of Natasha's head, but the priestess continued to dig her teeth into Falfaren's flesh.


 Recalling some legends about werewolves, Melissa grabbed a silver coin from her pocket and stabbed her sword into the priestess' back, digging a hole deep enough to fit the coin.


Feeling the coin slide into her back, Natasha released her jaws from Falfaren's neck and tossed the halfling over her shoulder.  After taking a step towards the woman who had wounded her, Natasha fell to the floor and broke out in a rhythmic convulsion.


Falfaren sat up and rubbed her wounded neck as the priestess looked up at her once more, then collapsed to the floor.


Melissa stood up and stared in disbelief at Natasha's body.  "I just killed a high priestess...I have angered the gods."


"Yes, as well as saving all of Mauertain," Falfaren said in hopes of suppressing the pain and nausea.  She applied pressure to the wound as she walked over to Melissa, who jumped when she saw Natasha arms and legs twitch.


"Well, you almost killed a high priestess," the elf said as she reached into the hole in Natasha's back and pulled out the coin.


Melissa nodded and produced another silver coin from her pocket.  "I remembered reading that silver is like a poison to werewolves and other creatures afflicted with lycan's disease.  Perhaps the silver will only weaken her."


Falfaren found a piece of Natasha's torn robes near the doorway and used it to bandage her wound.  Seeing the object in the halfling's hand she said," I may need this coin, her bite could transform me.  As for our friend here, let's her back to the inn."


"Perhaps the priests can heal you," the halfling suggested in a sarcastic voice.


Falfaren grinned and shook her head.  "I would rather poison myself with the coin."


IV


Falfaren and Melissa were on their way back to the Bronze Scale when they passed Nestor and Graymood under a glowing lantern that was suspended on a post.


"I told you we would find them if we followed the smell," Graymood commented to his partner.  He and Nestor walked up to the women and said,” Lady Falfaren, you look terrible."


"I see you found the high priestess" Nestor said in what seemed like an agitated voice.


"Yes we did," Falfaren said, dropping the body unceremoniously in front of the two men.  After the priestess let out a soft, but painful moan, Falfaren then went into detail about their encounter with Natasha, then showed her new friends the coin which had immobilized the feral priestess.


"Has anyone told you that you can be insensitive sometimes Miss Falfaren?" the ork asked.


"I've told her a time or two," Melissa answered casually.  Her eyes then saw Irvinevell leading four of his priests towards them.  "Shouldn’t they be back at the inn?”


“That is why we came to find you,” Nestor said as the priests reached them.


Spotting the body of their high priestess, Irvinevell and his brothers in faith raced and picked up the body of Natasha Thorn.  While the others tried speaking to their sister-in-faith, Irvinevell looked up at Falfaren, his eyes flashed with anger and accusation.  "You did this?  You killed our high priestess?"


Falfaren pointed to her halfling companion and said," We injured her, well It was actually Melissa who injured her.  With a silver coin nonetheless.”  Falfaren rubbed her shoulder, hoping no one would notice the wound.  “I'm sure you would have been able to do the same thing if she would have transformed in the ball room, or would have you just let her run rampant and kill all of those innocent guests?"


Irvinevell said nothing as the other priests drew their maces at the elf.  Nestor and Graymood stepped in front of Falfaren.  "We did what we had to do to keep the city safe," Melissa said before Falfaren could make the same statement.


"It was a curse inflicted on her by a dark wizard,” Irvinevell said, looking at the halfling and the elf.  "There was many times when we pleaded with her to stay at the temple and search for a cure but she insisted with putting on a feast.  Our plan was for her to escape when she began to transform."


“But you did not count on Thorn taking matters into her own hands,“ Falfaren said as a shiver of pain ran down her neck.  “Her intentions may have been to escape, but she was stricken with hunger and saw the ball as an opportunity to sustain her hunger.”


Irvinevell closed his eyes, saying nothing while the other priests began carrying the body away.


As they walked away, Natasha's eyes looked back at Melissa and Falfaren, her lips moving quickly.


"What do you think she said?" Nestor asked curiously.


"Perhaps a thank you," Melissa suggested.


"More like a curse," Falfaren before looking at Nestor and adding," I am guessing that since this Irvinedell was able to convince someone to keep this within the church."


“He brought up a doctrine that states that states that church crimes must be taken care of within the church,” Nestor answered in a solemn voice.  “Marshall Armarose is going directly to the king tomorrow, but it may be too late.”


A moment of silence passed the four, until Graymood stared at the bandage on Falfaren's neck that was now covered entirely in the elf's blood.  "Miss Falfaren, we should have someone look at that wound.."


Falfaren uncovered her bandage,a lair of dry blood covering where she had been bitten.  "I suppose if we ask the Winelord's-"


Nestor looked at the wound.  "In the forest, Graymood and I know of some druids and healers who owe us a favor and can help you.  My friend Lonicera, who is a skilled healer and a disciple of the Earthmother."


"She is also a centaur and quite pretty," Graymood added,” The human half, not the horse half.


"Sounds great," Falfaren remarked casually, covering up her wound once again.


As they began walking behind Nestor and Graymood, Melissa looked up at her friend and asked," You do not seem to like the idea of dealing with another priestess."


Falfaren shrugged and said," I admit, I do not know what to expect.  Although I hear the centaurs who roam the forests are not that hostile towards humans."


The halfling smiled, thinking back to the Bronze Scale.  "If you can walk away from this Lonicera without insulting her gods, then this will be a good night for you.”

Source: http://alstoverfiction.blogspot.com/2010/08/miss-falfaren-catches-werewolf.html

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Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Fabrications and Imposters

Last night I dreamed I was looking for someone. Twice I thought I had found them; but I soon realized they were imposters. Then the third time, I finally found the real thing...but unfortunately I woke up.


One of the imposters was Zelda from Pet Sematary....or at least something that looked like her. That was kind of creepy.


This morning, Jack and I watched iCarly. The episode was about a real life YouTube star named Lucas Cruikshank, who has found fame by portraying a character named Fred.


Sam and Carly showcase Fred's video on their iCarly webcast. They're about to show another video, and then their producer Freddie suggests otherwise. He admits he doesn't find the videos to be that funny. He isn't rude and nasty about it. He just states his opinion.


After stating his opinion, all hell breaks lose. Lucas declares his feelings have been hurt, and he's quitting his little show. Soon everyone is treating Freddie (the non Fred-fan) as a pariah. His simple statement of criticism is blown out of proportion. Reporters interview Carly, Sam, and Freddie, then edit the news report to make things look worse than they are.


In the end (SPOILER ALERT)......


Lucas admits that he was never offended, and it was all a scam. He points out that having this big drama increased both his and iCarly's web visitors.


The show made me feel uncomfortable because it brought back memories of my past internet experience. I gave an opinion, and suddenly I felt like I was the victim of a witch hunt. I don't think any outright lying happened, but there was manipulation of opinion via editing, deleting, withholding information, exaggerating, etc.


For me, the incident didn't increase visitor stats on my blog....mostly because I kept the drama off of my blog. I wonder if it increased stats for the others in the story. Maybe...probably.


So anyway, I have a lot of this dishonesty synchronocity going on. Why? I have no idea.


Today (several hours after watching iCarly) I watched some clips from a documentary on the Australian Screen website. I've been watching them in order, and the first one I came to today was from the film Forbidden Lies. It's about a Jordanian-American woman living in Australia who wrote a book about honor killings in the Middle East. She presented it as fact; said it was a tragedy that happened to her friend. But some clever Australians uncovered the truth. Author Norma Khouri is a con artist. Her story is a lie.


I did some reading with Lord Wiki regarding other literary frauds. He mentioned The Education of Little Tree. We read that in my children's Literature class in college. I was going to say how stupid for the professor to assign that, and not realize it was a fraud. BUT now I'm thinking maybe we read it, and then talked about it being a fraud. I can't remember. So there you go. Sometimes we can't tell the truth because we don't REMEMBER the truth. But we can be honest in saying we don't remember clearly. I think that helps.


There's an infamous Australia-related example; Mutant Message Down Under. This is the one in which an American woman claims she spent spiritual bonding time with Aboriginal Australians.


There are other examples.


People find fame and fortune by telling lies.


You know....you can do that ETHICALLY by calling your work fiction. Simple as that. Fiction does sell pretty well, actually. At least I think it does.


Although I wrote a novel, put it online, LABELED it as a novel, and people thought it was true. I got all these emails from people telling me they understood what I was going through. I had to explain that it was a novel...fiction. Maybe a lot of people don't know that novel means fiction. If I was putting my true life story up, I would have called it memoirs....or a blog. Whatever.


Why do people create these elaborate lies?


I'd say it's for....


a) attention (definitely!)
b) money (if they're getting their work published)
c) sympathy
d) the thrill of tricking people.


What are the consequences of lying?


Well, I think the biggest one is that it creates distrust, and often towards people who don't deserve this distrust.


I'm now reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. This is the one in which the media and Ministry of Magic paints Potter to be a dishonest brat who's starved for attention. Now we the readers know the truth (well the fictional truth, at least). Harry Potter is completely honest and has REALLY been in horrible dangerous situations. He's not making stuff up. But the characters in the novel aren't privy to the knowledge we're getting. Why SHOULD they believe Potter? It's hard to do so when you've witnessed so many lies before.


A year or so ago, a young teenager pulled at the heartstrings of many bloggers. She was suffering from cancer. In her blog, she wrote about her troubles and sorrows. Other bloggers reached out to her, not just in the blogging world. They reached out beyond that. They called her on the phone. They sent her gifts. They sent out much love.


Then the cancer victim admitted it was all a lie. She didn't have cancer. She made it all up.


What a slap in the face to compassion. How are these bloggers going to react, in the future, when they encounter other people claiming to have cancer?


There's a brilliant scene in Swords and Crowns and Rings where a man won't allow some homeless people to seek shelter on his property. He cruelly sends them away. They stay anyway, sleeping with the pigs. One man dies from the cold. The others get angry at the farmer.


One of the characters (I forget who) defends the man.


Ah, here we go. I got the book, and found the passage. It's Jerry who does the defending. Although now I can't even remember who Jerry was.


Anyway, he says...But if the farmer's wife had the bad luck he told us about, tools pinched, vandalism, maybe worse, his daughter done over, or his wife terrorised-eh? Can you blame him for locking things up?


When it comes to just compassion, I feel it's usually better to play the fool than the cold-hearted bitch.


But if you go beyond sympathy....it's difficult. What if it's money....lots of money? Should we help someone, or ignore them because we believe they're a con artist?


Let's say a wealthy teen from the suburbs wants some extra cash. She doesn't want to work, so she goes around telling people that she's homeless and needs a few dollars so she can eat...or buy a train ticket...or call her parents.


I'm sure there are many stories like this.


But there probably are also stories of people who REALLY are stranded and in need of some food and money. How many of those truly in need have been ignored and turned down because liars have taught us to be distrustful?


Then there's the whole safety thing.


Now I don't know how much is real, and how much is urban legend. But I've heard of the serial killer/kidnapper horror stories. Men trick women into thinking someone is in need. They use this as a lure, and then they trap them. You know....like that scene in Silence of the Lambs. Scary!


It's really hard to be trustful in this world.


What are we to do?


I guess the best solution is to be open-minded and open-hearted...but also skeptical.


While we're on the subject of honesty....


I just want to remind people that I don't usually post things the day I write them. So although my blog is very honest about what I'm thinking, and what goes on in my life....the timing of stuff is usually dishonest.


So when I say Last night I dreamed I was looking for someone....it's a LIE. Well, it is true as I'm writing this. But when I post it, it won't be true anymore. AH....unless I end up having the same dream the night before I post this.


And by the time any of you read this, I shall probably be finished with reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.


I just wanted to make sure we're straight and clear.


I'm weirdly paranoid about misleading people....well, unless I'm joking. But if I'm joking, I reveal the truth pretty quickly.





Source: http://notreallyaustralian.blogspot.com/2010/08/fabrications-and-imposters.html

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Sunday, May 23, 2010

Last Lost: "The End"

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