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It was a dark and dreary morning. Dark clouds covered the sky, and thunder could be heard in the distance. Outside, everyone was preparing for the coming storm, seeking shelter and bringing cattle into barns; barring doors and windows shut and hiding inside. Storms were the worst.
"Thom, go help your father, please.",
"Yes mother.",
"Don't forget your cap and goggles, in case it begins to rain before you're done."
Thom simply nodded to his mother as she handed him his gear. When the rain fell, the Dimble Forest would spread spores that could turn any living thing insane. He wonder what the forest'd looked like before the Undead Purge ran amock, long before he was born.
Thom got a kiss on his cheeck from his mother, turning him red as a beet. He quickly scurried outside to help his father, who was struggling to get their mule inside the barn. Thom found it funny how the saying 'As stubborn as a mule' was so fit for the situation.
"Let me help you, Da.", Thom happily said as he walked towards his father.
"Thanks, Sprout.", his father said as he ruffled his son's hair, "This 'ere beasty's quite the fighter. She don't want to go back into the barn.",
"I noticed, Pa. You just have to scratch her behind the ear, like so."
Thom scratched the mule behind her ear, and received a lick as a form of affection. Thom laughed and helped his father get her into the barn. When they closed the windows and door of the barn, rain began to slowly fall.
"We'd best hurry, Sprout. Soon it'll be worse."
Thom nodded, and they both ran back home where a warm cup of tea was waiting for them. Taking off their coats and accesories and taking their seats, they waited for the storm to worsen. Outside, the footsteps of Defenders patrolling the town could be heard.
"I don't envy them.", Pa said with a sullen look on his face, "Storms like this is when I fear for them the most. If their gear has only the smallest of defect." Pa cut off, his voice hanging and tears welling up in his eyes. His wife gave him a hug.
"We know, hun. Your brother was a great man, and his death unfortunate."
Thom could not bear to see his father like this, and decided to go to his room to get his mind off his uncle's death. He was four years old, but it's almost as if it was yesterday.
"Thirteen years ago, uncle. The day before my fifth.. It's not fair.". He could not fight back the tears, and broke down on his bed.

Thom woke up to a lot of ruckus outside; shouting, screaming and yelling echoed through the streets. His father came storming through the door, clothed in his Defender attire.
"The Undead, Sprout! They've come! Get dressed, quickly! I'll get a bag for your belongings."
Thom shook his head in confusion. The Undead are here?, he thought as he processed what his father said to him. His mother came into the room next, pale as the moon, her eyes struck with fear, hands shaking. She walked towards Thom, but collapsed halfway, her body twitching uncontrollably and then suddenly stopping.
"Mom..?", Thom said as he slowly and carefully walked towards his mother's still body. He bent down on one knee, softly touching his mother's shoulder, but there was no reaction. He next went for the neck, trying to feel if there was a pulse, but there was none.
Out of nowhere, a rasp for breath escaped from her body. Thom jumped back and grabbed the candle-stand from the small table next to his bed. Slowly, his mother's body started rising.
"No. Mother, NO!", Thom screamed and begged as he looked into the eyes of what was once his mother. Empty, white husks where there were once beautiful sky-blue eyes. She looked at him, no emotion, only small grunts and rasps, as if she tried to breathe.
She lunged, Thom screamed and jumped to the side, his now Undead mother crashing into the wall, bones audibly breaking from the impact. Thom's father came storming into the room, an empty bag in his one hand, a small dirk in the other.
"What's going on?!" he asked as he looked around the room franticaly. His eyes first fell upon his son, who was shaking, fear in his eyes and wielding the candle-stand. His eyes fell upon his wife. His facial expression changed into one of fear, then sadness, and then anger.
He sheathed his dirk, dropped the bag, and unsheathed his sword and pulled a shield from his back.
"I'm sorry, Eleanor, my love. I'm sorry this happened to you, but I will set you free!"
He charged, and so did his wife. Undead clashed against shield, sword cut air; a deadly dance had begun. Thom sneaked towards to doorway of his room to escape the fight but was brought down by his mother landing on top of him. He lay with his back on the floor, staring directly at his mother's face. She screamed, and briefly had a look of pain upon her face, but instead of focussing on the sword that was thrust through her abdomen, she was still fixated on her son.
Another thrust, and another scream followed. "Get off of him!", Thom's father shouted. But his mother did not budge. Instead, she raised her hand, now more like a claw, and lashed out. Thom's father quickly pulled her away, but too late. She left scratches on Thom's face, three narrow ones across his right eye.
Thom screamed out of pain, jolting upright, covering the wound with his hands. He briefly looked at the struggle before him: His mother was thrown on the ground, her feet swept from under her by a swift movement from his father. Then came the sword, plunging through his mother's face, finished with an upward cut through the skull. The body twitched for a second, and then stilled. Thom's father had won, but at a price.
Where there was once chainmail, was now a bitemark. Thom's father looked at it and chuckled. "So, this is how it ends?"
Thom quickly rushed to his father's aid, only to be stopped by the gesture of a held up hand. "It's alright, my boy. The wound is not fatal. Not immediately, at least. If the old stories are true, I will turn into one of them. I won't let that happen, of course.", Thom's father sighed. "Sprout, you must be brave. You must escape the woods. I have prepared some things for you. They are on the living-room table. A map of the local area, a book containing the medicinal secrets of this village. You know them, right? How we extract material from the Undead to create the most potent medicine the world has ever seen?"
Thom nodded, still in disbelief of what had just happened. He glanced at his mother's still and mutilated corpse, tears welling up in his eyes. Thom's father walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your mother had a weak heart, Sprout. She probably died of a heart-failure."
Thom hugged his father, no longer able to fight back the tears and sadness. "I don't want you to go too, Da! I can't lose you both! I don't want to lose you both!"
"Thomas Daem Denter, my boy, my pride, my Sprout." His father said with a pained rasp and a soft crackle in his voice, "You must live. Others have gathered at the west-gate, it is still safe there. Gather your belongings, and the items on the living-room table, and take these." His father held out his sword and shield. "These are for you, to keep you extra safe. I know I have not trained you in their use, and I regret that now, but I know you've been practicing with sticks for some time now. Watch, decide, swing. Now go, before it's too late."
Thom took the sword and shield, equiped them properly and quickly gathered his belongings from the room. Before leaving, he glanced at his father, who gave him one last smile before pulling his dirk. "I love you, my boy.", he said before embedding the dirk in his skull.

Thom ran, crying; crawling through the streets, avoiding conflict wherever he could. When the west gate was in sight, he picked up speed. Guards quickly opened their makeshift barricade to let him in. Once inside, he reported to the guard-commander present.
"Thomas! It's good to see you alive. But, where are your parents?", Tears still fresh in his eyes made it clear to the guard-commander. "I see. I'm sorry, boy."
Thom shook his head. "It's not your fault, Ser. My mother died from a heart-failure, and rose back. Father was just in time to save me, but.. he got bit."
"He will forever be remembered. Your father is -was, a great man, like his brother before him."
Thom nodded, and a small smile creeped up on his face. "Is there somewhere I can rest, Ser? I'm very tired."
The guard-commander nodded. "I can guess that. There, in the stables, is where other survivors are holed up. You can go and join them. There's water and bread, so get your strength back"
No sooner had the guard-commander spoken those words when one of the Defenders came flying over them. Both the guard-commander and Thom looked in awe as the screaming man came to a halt, and an end, crashing into the city-wall. His body landing with a loud thump, grossly twisted and broken. A rumbling sound in the distance became present.
"We've got a Horde incoming! Evacuate, NOW!", the guard-commander bellowed the command and joined his men at the barricades. "Jonner, Esther, Marck and Tonn, get the civilians out of here, get them to the outpost! As long as they haven't fired a flare, it's safer there than here. Go, quickly!"
Horses were readied, villagers were led in a neat line with the four appointed guards keeping them in check; almost like driving cattle. The gates opened and everyone moved. Once outside, a headcount was done.
"How many we got, Marck?",
"Twenty-seven, including babes and excluding us, Jonner",
"Good. Get them neatly in line and join me on the front. Esther, Tonn, I want you in the back. Shout out if any of the Undead come sneaking up on us."
Jonner rode to the front of the group, everyone eyed him nervously. "Those of you who know how to fight, be it stabbing things with a pitchfork, grab a weapon for your own safety. But never forget we are a group. We are the remainder of Rottet, probably both the bravest and stupidest village in the Kingdom of Saluta.
"We have all been through much, but the end is not yet in sight. Stick together, watch out for eachother, and most important of all: Don't die. We march!"
The march was a long one. The path winding through humongous mushrooms, once trees; Things that looked like sea-anemones, once bushes. Other things were unrecognisable, like some of the mutated wildlife. You couldn't tell what used to be a deer, a bear or a rabbit. There were disgusting, half-rotten, six-legged creatures with the face of an eagle but the ears of a fox, that fed off the 'bushes'. Other creaturs were large, near two meters tall. Even the insects seemed to have mutated. They all had one thing in common: They were docile creatures, fearing the group more than the group did them, as if their animal-instincts had never left them.
Suddenly the group halted, eyes raised towards the sky. "I could sweat I saw something of a flare.", Esther said, doubt in her voice. "Should we march on, or would you have one of us scout ahead, Jonner?"
Jonner crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, thinking. "Marck, ride ahead. We will march on, but carefully." Marck rode off and the group continued on.

What seemed like hours had passed. Marck still had not returned, and the other Defenders had not expected him to come back so soon at all. The group became weary, but was not granted a moment of rest. Some undead were encountered, but dispatched with ease, without casualties.
"Mama!", the shout came from the centre of the group and a crowd gather quickly, dissipating almost as fast. There, where the crowd had gathered lay a woman, a gaze Thom knew too good. She was dead, and turning.
Without hesitation, Thom walked towards the woman and unsheathed his sword. He knew what must be done, but was stopped in his tracks by Esther.
"Don't, boy. This is not for you to do." Thom stared at her, looked at the woman, dead on the ground, then at the small girl, crying and shouting for her mother to come back. The girl was being held by a man, fear and sadness in his eyes, while trying to soothe at the same time.
Jorren stepped off his horse and walked towards the man. "Turn her away. She will not want to see this.", he then brandished his sword and walked towards the woman, who was now slowly stirring, in the process of being turned into an Undead.
"I'm sorry.", Jorren said. "I hope you find peace, wherever the souls of the dead may go."
One swift strike was all it took. The head went rolling down the shallow hill as Jorren picked up the corpse, placing it behind a 'tree', so the little girl could not see it. He said a small prayer and re-aligned some small stones in a circular pattern before heading back to the group.
"We must press on.", he exclaimed. "We are as safe here as anywhere else in this damnable forest. Once we reach the outpost we'll be safe."
Thom could swear he saw Jorren mutter, I hope, under his breath, but he was not sure. Nonetheless they moved on, and he got back in line.
It wasn't long before Marck returned, his face stern and serious. "Jorren! The outpost is safe, though barely. Undead nearly overtook it, hence the flare."
"What made them win?", Jorren asked with a look of wonder on his face. Marck shrugged. "I don't know. I came back here as quickly as I could that it was safe."
"Then we press on, it is close now."
It was close indeed, hardly a kilometer away, but the group took ages. More people were lost, dying from exhaustion, left by the road because they could no longer move or by abandoning everything and taking fate into their own hands. They were with only sixteen now when they arrived at the outpost. The captain present greeted them all with warmth and offered them food and drink and beds to sleep in.
Many immediately went to eat in the cantina-building, others sought out a bed and took a nap in the barracks. Thom was neither hungry nor tired, the thought of his parents on his mind, keeping him restless. He instead sat in a corner, reading the book his father gave him, flipping through the pages to learn anything valuable.
Vextongue Potion, it said on the first page after the contents, A poison classified as a potion. It can turn a living creature mute, but makes the Undead scream even louder. Adminstering the potion is tricky, but achievable with the right determination and strategy.
Duration: two hours

"Interesting", Thom muttered as he continued reading.
Ingredients: Rotgrass, 1 Decaybloom, Ounce of Chalk, 250ml of water
Preparation: Pour the water into a container, such as a vial, and add the Decaybloom. Let the water take up the flower, giving it an orange colour. Add the chalk and some Rotgrass. The more Rotgrass, the more potent the potion. Be aware though: An overdose can kill the living, and mutate the Undead.

"But how do I know if it's an overdose or not?", Thom cussed under his breath.
Someone sat besides him. It was Esther. "Nice looking book you got there. What's it about?"
Thom doubted if it was wise to tell Esther what the book was about. He had no idea who did know of the medicinal secrets and who didn't. Smiling, he said. "Oh, nothing important. Just research from my father."
"What's the research about?", Esther asked while bending over to look into the book.
Thom quickly closed the book and put it back in his bag. Esther scowled at him with a look that said You're hidding something. She stood up and walked off.
"You know, ", she suddenly said. "If you're trying to hide the Medi Formu, or as we Defenders call it, The Medicinal Handbook for Dummies, be my guest. Everyone of age knows what it is."
"I'm sorry." Thom said, rising to his feet. "I had no idea you knew what the book was. I was just being cautios."
"Oh, I know, boy. Just let me tell you this: Hide that book really good. If it falls into the wrong hands, bad things can happen." And she walked away, into the cantina-building. Thom sat down again, grabbed the book and resumed his reading.
Tales of Mayesta, Chapter 1
To any of the groups this piece has been posted to: I am not a native English speaker, nor did I get great grades when it came to grammar. I view myself more as a hobbyist when it comes to writing, for now. I do wish to improve my writing/grammar skills as I am working on a novel.
Any critique is welcome. Be it for my writing-style, grammar inconsistensies, or even story inconsistensies.

Read the (short) prologue here: Tales of Mayesta: Prologue 

Piece of critique I gave:…
Our planet is known for its constant strife; its never-ending wars, conflicts, and the likes. Never in
history has there been recorded a true moment of peace, and all hope of one ever arriving grow slimmer with each passing moment. War is never far away.
Many races have gone extinct, such as the noble and hearty Dwarves, driven out of their homes by Goblin; The Elves, trying to avenge their ancient allies, only to be betrayed by their thralls, the Feloras. Humans were almost on this list too, but they persevered, though weakened and their numbers dwindling. Countless battles still rage, but none as great as The Purge.
Many believed it was sent to wash away all conflict, to unify the planet; but they were wrong. The Purge was here to hasten the extinction of the living, only to return them into Undeath. It did not care if someone was innocent of crimes against a different race, It needed to feed.
Where It came from, nobody knew; but as quick as It came into excistense, as quick It vanished. The Hunger no longer plagueing the lands. His hordes of Undead vanishing, only small remnants remaining in whatever lands They plagued, mutated and otherwise destroyed.
Once great forests were now infected; unhospitable for anything living as the rot and fungi took over. Once great plains of waving green grass have grown barren, riddled with thorns that almost seem alive. Waters postulating with deadly gas, corrupting fish and croppings dependant on them.
Though the true conflict has ended, and the Undead that remain roam the lands without purpose, they still pose a threat, as another horde might rise once more; for the dead still rise from their graves.
Tales of Mayesta: Prologue
A small prologue of an upcoming DeviantArt-only storyI will be writing. The prologue explains all that has happened. How many chapters this story will have, I do not know; I have fleshed out the basics of the first three chapters, though.

So stay tuned!
I know it's been a while since last I've posted something (more than a month), but I'm still around; just very pre-occupied.
-The progress on the Android game I'm developing is going smoothly. It's mainly tweaking, updating and refurbishing that needs going on.
-Writing fanfiction is still a thing: You'll find a small excerpt from a new piece I'm writing below this post.
-My kids are a year old now (since yesterday, the 13th of January)
-I have a wedding in four months (mahgawd!)
-I'm still writing my novel
-Youtube is taking up time
-Spending more and more time with the family.

And that's just the short version, as I'm too lazy to go into any details.

Don't worry, I'll soon have something new to post!

"Indonai was indecisive as to what role she would fill as an Adventurer of the Alliance. A healing role was what she wanted; to aid the injured and defenceless. The light did not call to her, nor did nature speak to her, so Priest and Druid were out of order. Her sisters were more fortunate in that regard: Liliyanam her younger sister, showed Druidical prowess from an early age; and Dorinae, her older sister, was already part of the Sisters of Elune for quite some time.Liliyana was not yet of age to train, so she practiced on her own on a daily basis, whereas Dorinae was at a stagnant stage of her Priesthood; stuck in Darnassus, unable to enter the field and grow further. In some regard Indonai was quite happy not having the Light call to her. Just as she was about to give up, the Pandaren joined the Alliance, showing off their skills as Monks. Indonai made up her mind then and went into apprenticehood under Laoxi, a brawly Pandaren with a heart of gold."
  • Mood: Cheerful
  • Listening to: Spotify
  • Reading: Game of Thrones , Book 2
  • Watching: Too much at once @_@
  • Playing: Golden Sun, Metro 2033, AC1, WoW, SWTOR
  • Drinking: Orange soda
Complete chaos had taken hold of Sen'jin village: The wounded were everywhere. Zubaja could not believe that this was happening now, not after the recent happenings with Deathwing's return. A sudden pain brought Zubaja back to earth and as he felt what the cause of his pain was, he found an arrow firmly lodged in his shoulder. Zubaja snarled, broke she shaft, threw it on the ground and used his healing spells to numb the pain. The arrowhead would have to wait.
A loud battlecry erupted from behind him: Two dwarves and a Human, the former being warriors and the latter a hunter, advanced upon him. No sooner had Zubaja seen them, and a swift Chain Lightning erupted from the palm of his hands, striking the Dwarves and put them in shock. Their bodies twitching, their mouths foaming. It would not last, but Zubaja bought himself some time to deal with the more dangerous adversary. Swiftly turning into a Ghost Wolf, Zubaja advanced towards the Human hunter, which swiftly sought to get away, but in vain. A Frost Shock kept him pinned, and a Lava Bolt finished him off.
The Dwarves were still twitching on the ground. Good, Zubaja thought, Dis be an easy kill. Merciful too. But before moving in, Zubaja looked around to see if he could expect any nasty surprises, but saw nothing. Any Alliance he saw was in combat with the Sen'jin defenders, and some of the Echo Isles soldiers arrived at the scene aswel. Zubaja quickly unleashed a few swift Lightning Bolts on the Dwarves and their twitching stopped. Not soon after, Sen'jin was rocked by an explosion, followed by screams of both Alliance and Horde. The Alliance had a ship with them, one that was firing its cannons on the village, regardless of who was in it.
“Zubaja!”, it was Terijaki, a novice Druid and old friend, “We need ta stop da ship! Else Sen'jin be doomed!”.
Zubaja nodded, “Ya be right, mon. But I be doin' dis alone. You stay 'ere and heal da wounded. You lack combat experience.”
Terijaki sighed, and slowly nodded in dissapointment. “Alright, friend. Good luck ta ya!”, and he ran off.
Zubaja searched for the ship, but instead found a cannonball heading directly for him. He ran to the side, in his rush forgetting he could transform into a Ghost Wolf, and got pelted by debris from the impact. He stood up, but went down again when not only the pain in his shoulder returned, but also a pain in his thigh made itself apparent. A large chunk of stone was lodged into it. At least dis be easyer ta remove den an arrow, he thought to himself. But as soon as he removed the rock, he saw the severity of this new wound. It had pierced his muscle and nearly went through his entire leg. Zubaja clamped his teeth and began a painful healing ritual, speeding up the Troll's regenerative ability and causing scar tissue to rapidly form.
Adrenaline rushed through Zubaja as he tried to keep focus and not scream. I been through worse! Dis be notin' compared ta what happed ta me in da fort! He sternly thought as he continued the healing process. He could feel it was almost finished when battle cries erupted from his right, and he saw a small group of seven Alliance march towards him. They were all close combat units, so Zubaja should be in luck. With one hand on his wound, Zubaja conjured Lightning Bolts with his other, but they barely scraped their targets, let alone hit them. Curse dis wound! I be needin' more time! A distant 'bang' made Zubaja look behind him. The Alliance ship had fired another round, and judging by the cannonball's trajectory, it would land on Zubaja's assailants. He smirked and looked directly at his attackers. One of them looked at the cannonball, was able to release a small warning, but it was too late. The impact sent some of the Alliance flying in different directions, while others simply dropped to the ground. There were no survivors.
Zubaja sighed in relief and continued his healing. It hurt less now, as the wound slowly closed.
“Get on ya feet, mon!” someone yelled at him from behind, “We be needin' Water Walkin' from ya, brotha!”. Zubaja was stumped at the last word. Only one person called him brotha in such a fashion. He quickly turned around.
“Arjin!” he shouted, “You be back!”. Arjin stretched a hand towards Zubaja who was then lifted to his feet. Zubaja hugged his brother, saying “I be glad ya be 'ere, mon! All hell be breakin' loose! Dem Alliance suddenly charged at us from de canyon!”
Arjin nodded and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. “We know, mon. I brought ma allies wit' me. Dey be takin' care of da canyon. I be needin' you're 'elp and dat of Terijaki to take out da ship. 'ave you seen 'im?”
Zubaja nodded and pointed towards the village “I sent him ta Sen'jin ta help heal da wounded.”
“Good. “ Arjin responded with a smile. “He be a grand healer. Maybe even grander den you be!”
Zubaja let out a loud chuckle and patted his brother's shoulder. “I will be getting' him, brotha. You take care of tings 'ere.”
Zubaja had not finished that sentence when a loud bang erupted from the Alliance ship. A cannonball was headed straight for Sen'jin Village and hit the ground in the village's square. Both Zubaja and Arjin did not hesitate to run to the village's aid, but as soon as they arrived they had no idea the damage would be this severe. The Trolls were clearly outnumbered as Alliance forces from the canyon came rushing into the village after the impact. Arjin rushed to the aid of a few fleeing villagers by charging into an Archer, leaping towards the two footsoldiers chasing the villagers and pinning them down with a mighty shockwave. Zubaja let out an Earth Shock and a Lightning bolt for the pinned-down archer, who then succumbed to an overload of electric-energy coarsing through his body, and then turned to aid his brother, but Arajin had already dispatched the footsoldiers and was talking to the villagers, pointing them in the direction of Razor Hill to which they quickly headed.
“Brotha!”, Zubaja shouted, “Dat ship need ta be going down! It be firing on de Echo Isles too, now!”,
“Den find Terijaki in dis mess! I be headin' towards da ship ahead, den!” Arjin responded as he rushed off.
Zubaja felt uncertain. Was his brother going to make it on his own? Why were there still so many Alliance if his companions were supressing the tide in the canyon? And was Terijaki even alive? There was only one way to find out: Find Terijaki, aid Arjin and then head to the canyon.
Zubaja entered the town-hall which was, much to his surprise, still intact. Wounded soldiers and villagers were here, but so were healers. If Terijaki could be anywhere, It would be here. Zubaja approached a Priest and asked for his cousin.
“I be sorry, Shaman. Dere be no Druid 'ere. I believe 'e was outside, near de southern edge of da village.” Zubaja sighed. The southern edge was the least hit area so far. Bowing before the Priest, Zubaja set off towards the south. While heading in that direction, he caught a glimpse of a struggle near the canyon-entrance. There he saw them: four of the legendary five.  Nargast was busy taking care of stragglers, but there were too many. Shindaya kept to the back as she healed her allies.Fleyag assisted in healing while also doing some ranged damage together with Ruskal, whom was busy trapping the canyon-entrance and trying to keep the Alliance at bay with Fluffy, his trusted Dinosaur from Un'goro. He also saw Terijaki trying to fend off an Alliance footman, but without succes. He looked weary and wounded.
Zubaja quickly went into Ghost Wolf form and rushed to his cousin's aid, barely making it in time. Terijaki was in a worse condition than glanced at first sight. He had a slash across his right eye, a broken tusk, missing teeth, and his staff -the pride of a Druid, was shattered.
“Let me heal ya.” Zubaja said to Terijaki, who sat silently on the ground, not uttering a word. All he did was blindly stare towards the horizon. His mind be lost. He not be of age yet. I should'a sent him back ta de Echo Isles, not to da battle, Zubaja thought as he continued healing his cousin.
“Zubaja?” Terijaki suddenly said. “What happened? Everyting went so fast. Is dis how it feels to fight in a war? I wonder 'ow Arajin felt during his first fight.”
Zubaja always wondered that himself. In fact, this was Zubaja's first fight too. Was he steeled by that moment in the keep? He shook his head to get rid of the thought. Now was not the time to be thinking about these things; Terijaki had to be healed, and quick.
“Terijaki, “ Zubaja said, “Ya be needed by Arajin. So am I. We be helpin' him take down da ship. Are you up for it?”,
Terijaki looked at Zubaja with shining eyes. “Arajin.. wants me.. to help?”
Zubaja nodded. “Yes. He be havin' faith in ya. And so do I!”
To those last words Terijaki, with renewed vigor -and some help from Zubaja's healing, leaped to his feet and cast a spell to repair his staff. “Den we should be goin'!” and he transformed into his Cat form. Zubaja followed suit with a transformation and they both went off towards the ship to aid Arajin.
An unlikely alliance - Zubaja's story Ch.3
Looky here! A new chapter for my fanfiction. Took me long enough, didn't it?

Enjoy the read!

[Ch1]<An unlikely alliance - Zubaja's story Ch.1>
[Ch2]<An unlikely alliance - Zubaja's story Ch.2>
[Ch3]<You are here>
Des te leth NEW by Zubaja
Des te leth NEW
So, after posting Desorelia ( <da:thumb id="492759137"> ), I decided to re-do Des-te'leth in a same style, and give some of the planets a little overhaul as per their official description. 
Print will be available to those who'd like to have it. And, as per mandatory, the descriptions of each stellar-body present in this image:

Verra is the small, green star orbiting Delenta. Its gravitational pull is what keeps the planets of the system in balance, and also causes seasonal changes on many planets in the system when it passes in front of its larger sister.

The larger, yellow-orangish star is the source of warmth in the system. It sits idle, spinning around its own axis and in orbit of the Galaxy's center-point.

Menas-Terth is the closest planet to Delenta and sometimes experiences an orbital-bump when Verra passes by. The planet was first discovered when the use of the first telescope was more widely appreciated and more elves started gazing at the stars. It wasn’t until the dwarves started gazing that the mineral properties were also discovered.

The second-closest planet to Delenta. It looks much like a twin to Menas-Terth other than that this planet isn’t nearly smooth-surfaced and actually has canyons and mountains.
The minerals that are present on this planet are even rarer than on Menas-Terth and are also more in the open; as in that they jut out of the ground and mountains as if they’re plants. Very big plants.

The first of three habitable planets present in the system and also the biggest. Terrada has the biggest diversity both in species and how the planet is divided into land, ocean, ice, mountains etc.
Its most prominent feature has to be a unique ring around it with 5 moons, of which one is a Gas Dwarf; the complete opposite of a Gas Giant. The planet has a rich history known by its four most prominent races; sadly also a history of war, pain and disaster.
To this day only one continent has ever been discovered, for every ocean-venture never returned. Who knows what else the planet holds?

The second habitable planet in the system. Not much is known about its flora or fauna, other than that the entire planet is nearly covered in jungles, swamps and a small mountain-range.

The third habitable planet in the system. Most of the planet is covered in sand, small oases and even a small ocean.
Hardly any mountains exist on the planet but canyons are abundant, making the planet look as if it has been severely scarred.

I know it's been a while since last I've posted something (more than a month), but I'm still around; just very pre-occupied.
-The progress on the Android game I'm developing is going smoothly. It's mainly tweaking, updating and refurbishing that needs going on.
-Writing fanfiction is still a thing: You'll find a small excerpt from a new piece I'm writing below this post.
-My kids are a year old now (since yesterday, the 13th of January)
-I have a wedding in four months (mahgawd!)
-I'm still writing my novel
-Youtube is taking up time
-Spending more and more time with the family.

And that's just the short version, as I'm too lazy to go into any details.

Don't worry, I'll soon have something new to post!

"Indonai was indecisive as to what role she would fill as an Adventurer of the Alliance. A healing role was what she wanted; to aid the injured and defenceless. The light did not call to her, nor did nature speak to her, so Priest and Druid were out of order. Her sisters were more fortunate in that regard: Liliyanam her younger sister, showed Druidical prowess from an early age; and Dorinae, her older sister, was already part of the Sisters of Elune for quite some time.Liliyana was not yet of age to train, so she practiced on her own on a daily basis, whereas Dorinae was at a stagnant stage of her Priesthood; stuck in Darnassus, unable to enter the field and grow further. In some regard Indonai was quite happy not having the Light call to her. Just as she was about to give up, the Pandaren joined the Alliance, showing off their skills as Monks. Indonai made up her mind then and went into apprenticehood under Laoxi, a brawly Pandaren with a heart of gold."
  • Mood: Cheerful
  • Listening to: Spotify
  • Reading: Game of Thrones , Book 2
  • Watching: Too much at once @_@
  • Playing: Golden Sun, Metro 2033, AC1, WoW, SWTOR
  • Drinking: Orange soda


Zubaja's Profile Picture
'Twas the year 1990, on the 22nd day of November, when a wee lad was born. That wee lad, 'twas I.
"Lo and behold!" Many a person would exclaim, for 'twas a sight to behold. A silent baby, narry a peep, but alive and well, for my stink made my parents weep.
Youth be a cruel mistress as she tortured me on every step, I was autistic I was, narry a friend I made 'cause of it up until highschool, for then I got to go into IT.
Highschool was great and a soothing experience, for I could be myself and lose myself in the fantasies that roamed my great mind. I would program day and night, practise my skill for a complete mastery, when a woman came into my life, beautiful and a sight to behold.
Then came college, a worthy experience, which I narry failed with the chance of succes as thick as a newborn-baby's hair. The latter, speaking of, became my present. Two wee sucklings, a boy and a lass, now bring joy to my life as did my girlfriend's now enlarged.. buttocks.

Work became a reality and I was dragged into the standard drag of the working man; A 9 to 5 job is now my fate, as I silently sit here and wait.
The wee ones grow and become strong, as dad works hard to ensure a great future as was his own.

Sacrifice; You don't give something up, you merely add an obligation because you chose to. And narry does a man choose to sacrifice something if it's all for naught.

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:iconshaykamui: :iconremwaa:


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VFreie Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2015
Hi, and welcome to :iconthewrittenrevolution: theWrittenRevolution!
There are lots of things you can get involved in:

Bullet; Red we post monthly writing prompts (that include prizes, and a chat event during the month to help people with their pieces),

Bullet; Black publishing opportunities from other sites (whenever we come across one!),

Bullet; White we have a monthly feature that includes a deserving member, two of the best critiques we've seen during the month, and two helpful writing resources,

Bullet; Red a monthly affiliates feature of two Literature groups,

Bullet; Black and a biweekly-ish article in which one of our admins gives an in-depth critique to one of our members' work that hasn't received much feedback.

We'll soon be reviving our chatroom with weekly activities, so stay tuned for that too. :D (Big Grin)

We also have Facebook and Twitter accounts. On our profile page you will find links to the latest of all the activities I listed up here and to our social networks that will help you keep updated, so feel free to look around and ask if you have any questions, we're here to help!

Welcome to the revolution. I salute you!
kvdolan Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday!! Party Have your cake and eat it too
Zubaja Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2014
Thank you!
UriahGallery Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014  Professional Photographer
Thank you for the :llama:!

-Jonathan Uriah Denney
Nature and Wildlife Photographer
Website  - Facebook 
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