Zwarves

Hi! It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything on this glorious blog. And since I’m pretty damn sure that no one has missed me, I’m not apologizing for neglecting the wonderful world of writing.

I remember being very ambitious when I started this blog – like you couldn’t tell from the blog’s title, eh?- to the point where I was reluctant to share any stories, or draft of stories, that I wrote. Because I didn’t want to spoil my precious ideas when the time comes to publish them and make loads of money.

 

Well, this is no longer the case. It’s not that I’ve given up on ever publishing a novel someday. But I just don’t feel overprotective as I used to be. I just want to write, and share my writings.

When I signed in the dashboard today, I found several drafts that I didn’t want to publish. Bellow you’ll find one of these drafts. I’ll continue to publish other drafts, continue writing other stories that I didn’t complete, and hopefully continue to write new stories.

 

 

 

A story about a guy who gets transported to a fantasy world through reading a book. And it turns out later that other people form the real world have been transported as well. Maybe even some historical figures (Like Napoleon) . And we read about our hero’s adventures in this strange land. The story has action, comedy, and adventure.

 

I  was walking down the merchant’s road, which cuts through Blindman’s Forest. It has been almost a week since I’ve seen another person. That was a relief, actually, since every encounter I’ve had in the last month has ended violently. Bandits, bounty hunters, and Zwarves populated the roads now.

I didn’t mind the bandits, nor the bounty hunters. Actually,  I enjoyed my little skirmishes with them, good sport. But I prayed that I never encounter another zwarf in my lifetime, although I knew this was not possible; those tiny-flesh-eating, earth-digging bastards are a nightmare to fight, or run from. You almost never face a zwarf who’s not accompanied by at least five of his kin. And if you do find one standing alone, you better turn around and start running, for you are surely being ambushed.

I’ve learned along time ago not to test my various skills on these tiny devils, since every time I try something new, they surprise me with how they react to it. One time I tried a fire spell. It didn’t affect zwarf, only made it more agile, and really, really pissed. Another time I tried an illusionary spell. I made myself look like a giant Orc with devilish eyes. The zwarf screamed. I thought my spell had worked. Turns out, he was calling more zwarves to attack the giant beast. I had a lot of running to do that day.

To me, they are technically zombies, dwarves risen from the dead. But these short monsters differed from the traditional zombies in many aspects. For one, they could talk, and they talked a lot. In fact, I didn’t fear any sneak attack from them. Even if, by any chance, a zwarf was alone, he would talk or sing to himself. One time, I witnessed a dwarven corpse as it rose into zwarfhood. The first thing it said as soon as it stood on its feet was, “Damn you Vidrum, you filthy whore!” And then it spat, and three of its teeth dropped onto the dirt, “Balls!” it cursed. Then it saw me. And I had to run. The rest is still blurry to me.

After following the road up and down a small hill, I was able to see the lights of Grintonshire through the thinning forest. And it wasn’t long before I was passing some of the small houses and workshops that were scattered on its outskirts. The night was quite in this town, but I could hear voices and sounds of movements emanating from some of the houses. And as I strolled deeper into town, I could hear the loud cheers and laughter of drunk men and dwarves, the clinking sounds of glassy mugs, and the occasional, and admittedly arousing, moanings of elvish whores. Yup, I was closing in on a fantastic bar, or tavern.

I braced myself when I read “Mania’s Bottom” on the withered sign; I didn’t know if Mania was dude or a chick. I wondered if he, or she, was actually inside the tavern, and if the word “Bottom” had any literal presentation inside the pup. I grabbed the door knob, took a deep breath, and barged inside.

It should have been bottoms

Loving The Assassin’s Apprentice

I was going to write “So far” at the end of the post’s title. But I know that I’ll like this book all the way to the end. Robin Hobb rocks, man!

By the way, I’ve just ordered a Kindle Paperwhite to speed up my reading. Always wanted to buy one. And this seems like a good time to finally do it.

I thought, having read the book already, that it was going to be a tedious task. But I couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve read the Farseer Trilogy a long time ago, and my English was way bellow the level of such book, it still is. Add to that the fact that I was too lazy to look up the words that I didn’t understand at the time, which were a lot, and you would see how I’m experiencing the book in a whole new light.

One thing I didn’t forget about Ms. Hobb’s writing, and I still appreciate it now, is how she uses her words to describe a scene. Whenever I thought about her books, during the past ten or so years, I’ve always remembered how she used to describe the smells or odors of her scenes. More than often, Fitz, the main character and narrator of the story, would write about how a certain place “smelled” to him. I found that it always made me “feel” like I was there with him. Of course, if I didn’t understand the word that she associated the scent of the place with, the effect didn’t work for me. But still, most of the time, it really worked, and added another dimension to my visualization of here scenes.

I have a lot to say when it comes to Ms. Hobb’s books. But I’m in no hurry to blurt it all out now; I have a long journey ahead of me, till I reach the Fool’s Assassin.

Peace.

Dear Ms. Robin Hobb, Thank You!

Imagine being a Star Wars fan…

You’ve watched all the movies, maybe read some novels and comic books. And then it all just faded away into your mind as a lovely memory of a fantastic universe that supplements your daydreams and musings.

Now imagine yourself standing in line to buy a ticket to a movie. You haven’t planned on watching anything in particular. It just happens that you were passing by the local theater and, having nothing else to do, decided to go see a movie.

You’re standing in line, waiting, until the guy in front of you walks away, and you’re facing the lovely lady behind the counter. She asks which movie you want to buy a ticket for. So you raise your head to look at the screens behind her, and your jaw drops to the ground.

Somehow, you haven’t heard anything about it. I know it’s impossible for someone living in this day and age, who has the slightest interest in American entertainment, not to have heard or read about the new Star Wars movie. But for the sake of the analogy, imagine that you’ve never heard of it until the moment you saw it at your local theater, and you could buy the ticket to go in and see it right there, almost minutes after your knowledge of its existence.

If you can imagine how you would feel at that moment, then you have an idea about how I felt when I stumbled on the Fools’ Assassin while I was aimlessly browsing a book store in a foreign country.

I was on vacation, travelling with my lovely wife and daughter, good times. And it has been always my habit, as I walked beside a book store, to slow down, and browse the books inside, my eyes all dreamy and mystical. I was like a child who cries to his parents whenever they passed by a toy store, even though they’ve just bought an expensive toy for him, and he was holding the box in his hands.

Anyway, This time I did enter the bookstore, and while I was browsing through the Fantasy section, there I found it. I had recognized Robin Hobb’s name at first, and that was enough for me to pick up the book. But then I read the title, The Fool’s Assassin?

I kept staring at the book, not believing what my own eyes and sense of touch were telling me. How is it that I’ve never heard of this. She’s going back to Fitz and the Fool? I thought the story was over when I finished the Tawny Man trilogy. And now there is this book that I’m holding in my hands. I can go home and start reading immediately.

And that’s when I lost some of the ecstatic energy that I’ve just acquired. You see, I’ve read the Farseer trilogy and the rest of the books a long time ago. So I have only a vague recollection of the story. And for a story that I’m deeply in love with, I can’t go into a new chapter with such a cloudy memory of what happened before.

And so my journey begins. I have gone through my dusty book collection, and picked up the Assassin’s Apprentice. It’s time to visit some old friends.

I’ll try to marathon my way through these books since I can’t wait to read the new one. First it will be the Farseer trilogy, then the Liveship Traders Trilogy, and finally the Tawny Man trilogy.

Now, answer this question for me, do I have to read the Rain Wild Chronicles as well? I haven’t read them at all, actually.

Man! That’s almost 13 books. Well, now that I think about it, my analogy at the beginning of the post is simply a pile of bullshit. I have a long waiting ahead of me before I can read the Fool’s Assassin, sniff, sniff.

But I haven’t been reading much these last couple of years. It’s been a long time since I’ve read a full novel. But now, with a new chapter of Fitz’s life in my hands, I’ve got all the motivation I need to read more books in a couple of months than I have ever read in a full year.

And for that, I say to Ms. Hobb, Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

P.S. Enjoy your success while you can, until my novel comes out and renders all other fantasy books obsolete. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t let this knowledge stop you from writing your beautiful books. You still have a long future ahead of you before I publish my novel. Peace.

Back to Them Words

Dear Blog,

I am so freakin’ sorry. I’ve been gone for a long, long time.

I wish I can promise you that I’ll be staying for good this time. But we both know that I don’t have the right to give such promises. All I can do is hope that I surprise myself and actually stay committed for a year, at least.

And guess what, my dear and neglected blog, I have some changes to make regarding my posts. I will not post portions of the stories that I’m working on any more. I found that doing this in the past was wrong. First drafts need to be done behind closed doors. They are too ugly and weird to be shown to the world. And they need to be. So I’ll keep them to myself, until it’s time for them to be revealed to the masses, making me ridiculously rich and famous in the process.

So if I’m not going to write stories here, what else?

I guess I’ll be writing about the books I’m reading, and my thoughts about them. I might also blog about stories in other medias, like video games, movies, and TV shows.

The important thing is that I’m back. And I hope that I stay this time.

M. Gate out.

The Knight And The Crazy Old Man – Part 10

Hylven tried to make sense of the floating figure. Its human shape was hardly visible behind the cloud of dust and smoke that whirled around it. The King had just called it Vazrill. But how could that be? thought the young knight. According to the story he was told by the old man, the dark wizard lived hundreds of years ago. He can’t be alive now. But then again, the King has been acting in madness this entire day; he could be simply blurting out random words from his memory.

The King spoke to the dark figure, slowly, “You will not succeed. There are things that are beyond your reach. The world of men will thrive. We have made sure of it.”
Continue reading

The Knight And The Crazy Old Man – Part9

Greetings, my dear readers,

Today was my last day with the monkeys; I will not see them for a whole month, yay!

If you haven’t, read the previous parts: Part1Part2Part3Part4Part5Part6, Part7, and Part8.

I finally got back to continuing this really EPIC fantasy story.

So, let’s not waste any time and delve into it:

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Sir Trist, Hylven, and Rother watched in disbelief, as King Shallow destroyed the Shrinkten forces inside Dartom. Young soldiers were torn to pieces, silver and grey knights were killed, and even the horses weren’t spared. The mad giant was advancing through the training grounds, and no one was able to stop him.

The White Knight was the first to snap out of the shock and act. He kicked his horse and rushed into the castle. Hylven was next to follow “My lord! No!” he called after him. Continue reading

The Knight And The Crazy Old Man – Part7

Greetings, my dear fans.

Too many monkeys today! I could barely write a sentence without interruption!

I’m happy to tell you that I’ll be signing my books in my room today, alone, so that no one can claim them to be his own. I bought those books with my hard-earned money, thief!

If you haven’t, read the previous parts: Part1Part2Part3Part4, Part5, and Part6

Anyway, Let us continue our fantastic journey, through the great plains of Shrinkshard, and follow the young knights, as they try to stop their king from reaching the great fortress, Dartom: Continue reading

The Knight and The Crazy Old Man – Part6

Greetings, My ever-increasing devotees.

Another day, another thousand words, give or take a few hundreds.

Today is a really beautiful day. As I always like to say :

Today is a really beautiful day!

If you haven’t, read the previous parts: Part1, Part2, Part3, Part4, and Part5

Now Let us continue this once-in-a-life-time-opportunity-for-you-to-read-a-really-epic story:

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Mount Svarg was named after the legendary country that lies to the north of it, Svargania. It is said that Svargania is much lower than Shrinkshard. That’s why no Svarganian was ever able to cross over. The southern side of the mountain, is also so steep, it is impossible to climb.

This is why many people consider the whole country of Svargania to be only a legend, since there is no evidence of its existence, save for a few ancient writings that are kept in the library of the royal castle.

These ancient documents give a frightening image of the Svarganians. They dabbled in the Black Arts, killed children in rituals, and concurred every country they could reach. But they could never climb Mount Svarg.

******* Continue reading

The Knight and The Crazy Old Man – Part5

Greetings,

Here are the previous parts: Part1, Part2, Part3, and Part4

Now let us continue with the story:

Yurdin hated his job as a guard, it was so boring. Still, he appreciated the safety of it. Being a gate guard insured a life free from the dangers of the battlefield. And he wasn’t alone in his post, Glinton, was always on duty with him, and they got along well.

Glinton was half asleep, when Yurdin saw the King coming out of inner gates, covered in blood. Yurdin screamed at his partner “Glin! Wake up! It’s the King!”

The sleepy guard was startled by the call. His eyes widened in horror when he looked where his friend was pointing. They both rushed to aid their King. Glinton reached the King first. He was about to ask the King what was wrong with him, when the King’s fist sent him flying back. Yurdin stopped, for a second, confused by what just happened. His friend lay on the floor, unconscious. And the King was approaching him slowly. The guard wanted to move and do something. But do what? Help the friend who got beaten by the King? Would he be considered a traitor if he ran away now? The King had already reached the fallen guard. He raised his right leg, and brought it down on Glinton’s face, smashing his head. Continue reading