Hello World

J.D
Dec 31, 2015
2 min read

It begins!

My initial blog.

I have yet to decide what exactly I intend this for. Insert something vastly inappropriate walking that fine line between productive and...not quite the opposite of productive, but that state of being bored workers occupy when their boss gives them a task that is hung up on other elements beyond their control and they discover they have access to wi-fi.

Yeah.

That.

On the plus side, today's mental stimulant is Icarus by Mythos. Hm....maybe that's what I'll do to keep myself sharp. Once a week I'll find a music selection and post a short story based on whatever comes to mind with the notes.

HUZAH!

There was a danger to the air that could not be expressed in words. A treachery that from the moment he beheld it, stifled his lungs. Each breath was beaten into him with the throb of the approaching army's cadence. He could hear them fast approaching the east wards. Eyes to the bleak heavens, his exhale was a smoggy huff of white as he reached for his sword.

The blade was heavy in palm. Its great blade needed to be hefted carefully to avoid scraping on the crystal of his platform. Shouldering the weight, he slipped from his post, down the ice slick ramp, his amber boots scraping softly before he landed on the bottom tower rung with a stern thunk. Immediately he was in motion, leaping from rung to rung across the gap between the platforms over the main gate. his knuckles rapped the side of the structure while he fought to keep balance along his makeshift shortcut to the alarm tower.

On the other side of the wall, Devos--black clad hounds of the mortal hunt howled their sentient alerts to the armies nearing the capital. He stiffened, head turned to the shared sky yawning over his tower and the soon to be battlefield. Teeth grit, he pressed on, making that final leap to the alarm tower. The cold bit through his armor. The gusts sweeping through the mostly open guard position shrieking. He squinted through the flurries of fresh, white snow to see them on the horizon.

The mortal hunt. Torches lit in the black of the night, armors boots stomping a warning cadence, and hounds roaring in the shadows reports of the temple defenses to be conquered by their masters. Heart in his throat, he reached for the blade on his back. They could not be caught unawares. The Arch priest must know of her treachery! Knuckles white on the hilt, Halen swung his blade to the bell sounding a rich, bone rattling echo through the wilderness and the pavilion guarded at his back.