And the Ogre thinks he can write
Well not really, but I do like to put my thoughts and creations on paper (or in this case, digital cyberspace). So on the next few pages you will find a collection of writings that I have done over the years. Nothing that will ever receive a Pullitzer, or even 10 dollars from readers digest, but hey, I figure if I can embarrass myself with horrid pictures of myself elsewhere on this site, I might as well put another nail in the coffin of my humiliation /wink.
hack / hæk / Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation [ hak ] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation -noun
| 1. |
a person, as an artist or writer, who exploits, for money, his or her creative ability or training in the production of dull, unimaginative, and trite work; one who produces banal and mediocre work in the hope of gaining commercial success in the arts: As a painter, he was little more than a hack. |
| 2. |
a professional who renounces or surrenders individual independence, integrity, belief, etc., in return for money or other reward in the performance of a task normally thought of as involving a strong personal commitment: a political hack. |
| 3. |
a writer who works on the staff of a publisher at a dull or routine task; someone who works as a literary drudge: He was one among the many hacks on Grub Street. |
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How things are organized here . . .
The little sections below are excepts from the complete stories. Clicking on the title of the subsections below will take you to the stories themselves. At a later date, I might even scan in some of my drawings, but we shall have to wait and see. I must warn you however, that the first story seems to have been corrupted, and I am in the process of trying to find the originals so I can restore the second chapter (though if you ask me they are more "segments" than chapters).
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The Story of Ul-fa  After the shake up of the world, Ulgo slept. He slept in the crypt of the earth, created after the great cataclysm. His empire disappeared in the depths of the time known as the Virus Era. For a thousand years, Ulgo slept. Waiting for the time to come for his awakening. . .
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Ul-mar's Story "Norgo, my faithful, come to me." the great Ul called to his avatar from his throne upon the highest reaches of the Frostwind Mountains. A shimmering appeared before him, full of colors and life. Slowly the shifting mist formed into an elf. His features were normal for his race, High cheek bones led to sharply pointed ears. His hair, neatly tucked into a pony tail was the color of midnight during a new moon. His eyes were a peircing blue and seemed as if they could see into the heart and souls of even the gods. This was Norgo, Avatar of Ul.
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A Wizard's Revenge Markum knocked on the door to a simple two story house made of the local wood with a shale roof, very similar to the rest of the houses in this area. After a minute, a light appeared in the window and the door creaked open. Standing before him was an older Halfling lady, an apron tied around her waist, and her hair pulled back in a matronly bun.
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