Saturday, 14 July 2007

Anemos Featured Artist

Kachinadoll, has the honor of being the first!
Saturday 14th - Saturday 21st July 2007.

Some words from Kachinadoll!
Hi Little Wind!
Wow, I am honored! Most of my work is posted here on Mernac in the gallery.
Your welcome to use any of the images your little heart desires. I also post images on renderosity, however, all of those images are also posted here on Mernac.
Whoo Hoo!
Thanks so much for your interest in my crayon drawings! I'm totally thrilled that someone likes my work! Especially our little wind! Yippee!
Have a wonderful evening!
Kachinadoll.



The Fire Element and her friendly fire fairys. Yes!, its my dear Elemental sister Vickielysia. Is she just the prettiest little lighter of flames? Read all about her at the Legends of Mernac. I promise she'll set the kinderling smouldering.



Aah the Frost Fairy! Hows that for a follow on from my dear sister? This image was in the June Fairy Art Contest at the Legends of Mernac.


The Crystal Faeries, do they not look so very fragile!



Please allow me to introduce you to Alessandra Omistsu. She is a place holder for a tale by Incubus Frost he is working on her full story in the Scribe to Scribe forum. Her character was created by the 'God Elsen'. Speaking of him look who is below us!

These are but examples of the work that Kachinadoll produces. Do drop by her Gallery and leave her some feedback. Thanks for viewing and dropping by!
All images used with the artists permission. © Kachinadoll.
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Friday, 13 July 2007

In the head

In the head
there is a space ship,
a mythical place
full of mystery, myrth and
disgrace.

Could there be that
prized, prize the pulitzer!
Or could be imagination
taking hold.

Close your eyes
let your mind wander free
is there a entirely new species of
bird hiding in there?
Or could it be a bumble bee?
No, no I know its a dragons lair!

Of course there’s a river in that place
it carries the wild imagination
all over the place.
Running through its currents
look see there
its the multiplication tables.
Or is it anti matter from outer space?

There is a lot crammed into the space
the head. Its full of promise and once
referred to as a sponge, now we all
know that so many people have
great things happen in their heads.

© Fi/ND/Botr 2006
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I am alone

I am alone
Married & a Single mum
The house is empty
Yet it breathes
A soft rumbling
Someone snoring

Children calling down
The street,
They sound happy
Warming their skins

I sit alone
And think
Dark grass burning
Beside my hand,
Dressed in dark interesting colours
Avoiding the sunlight hours.

Watching obliquely
As others act
I’m refraining
Invisible
Called efficient
Uneasy, in these garments.

Personal, choices to be had
I am a Single Mum that is Married.


Fi/ND 2007-02-06
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Insanity Streak

Insanity streak
sitting talking to myself
laughing out loud
for no reason at all
walking around and around
looking for something
but nothing at all
A drink to ease a
thirst not present
Staring at the words
on a page
not seeing them at all
voices
talking to me
are they in my head
no not at all
what was that you say

©FI/ND 2005
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Awakening Llyris

Awakening Llyris.

It was one of those days when fate decided to conspire against her. Climbing onto a chair Llyris had to get to the smoke alarm, to stop its screeching. As she pressed the button, Llyris must have moved. In a flash, that was quicker than her ability to yell for help, Llyris found she was hitting the floor, hard. Her forehead bounced off the edge of the breakfast table as she hit the floor.
She could recall nothing, and laying on the floor her reality slipped away. An enormous flash of light went off inside her brain, activating things forgotten or hidden within its depths.

Voices assailed her ears, like fingernails on a blackboard.
“Who’s this?”
“Where did she come from?”
“Is she the Witch we are looking for?”

Llyris made a wry face as she struggled to sit up. It was proving difficult; the cold tiles that were her kitchen floor were no longer under her. This floor felt smooth and cold, and with eyes that stung and a head full of cotton, Llyris managed finally to sit up. The screeching voices were unruffled and unconcerned. Offering no assistance they just continued to screech in her ear drums.

“Having problems?” A baritone voice came from behind her. Llyris could not see its owner, as her eyes just would not open with the commands her brain kept sending them. All of a sudden everything became blessedly silent.
“Thank you.” Llyris murmured.
“You’re welcome,” the baritone said “I had better get you up and take a look at that cut. Your eyes appear to be clogged with blood.”
It had been a while since a male had given her face the once over, even if it was covered in blood.
“Thanks” Llyris said as the man assisted her to her feet. As she stood, her world wavered “I appreciate ….” She sighed then promptly passed out.

Moments, hours, days’ later Llyris awoke. Her eyes opened to reveal an elegant older style library, with a dark haired man bent over some papers on a huge polished desk. He wore black leather pants, with what appeared to be dark feathers down the outer seams. His shirt was white linen with antique lace coming from the cuffs, gracefully collapsing over his hands and obscuring his wrists. Llyris let her eyes travel the length and breadth of his form.

When he looked up, she felt a little rush of pleasure. Conscious that this man was the owner of the baritone voice, Llyris spoke “I’m sorry, thankyou and where am I?” her words stumbled over each other. ‘Shut up motor mouth’ she told herself.

One of his eyebrows lifted and a playful smile came across his face, allowing Llyris to see a hide and seek dimple appear in his right cheek. Moving forward he spoke, baritone voice caressing her ears.
“Let’s see how that cut is doing, shall we?”
With steady fingers, he gently touched the swelling on the front of her forehead. Llyris brought her own unsteady fingers up, grazing his as she touched her own wound. She found herself thinking full and sensual thoughts as she grazed his hand.

He cleared his throat and his mouth drooped at the corners. Taking a step back, he watched as Llyris gently prodded her wound and the surrounding swelling. As she did so, it all slowly disappeared. Another playful smile slid across his face, and taking a deep breath he said “Well let me assure you. You are a good healer and witch!”
Llyris gaped at him, then stood and moved towards the fire. She could see her reflection in a wonderful large mirror above the fireplace and noticed that her unsteady legs had prompted him to walk beside her.

Llyris stared at her reflection in the mirror; blood was evident on her purple linen blouse. Her red and black streaked auburn hair was tousled over her shoulders, and there was also now a streaking of shocking white hair at her temples and above her forehead where the cut had been. Dismay washed over her, she could recall all that had occurred before the fall and nothing since, until the screeching voices had woken her.
“Oh, good grief what has happened to me?”
Llyris ran her hands through her hair, watching his emerald eyes, he was in thought. Llyris could see small things shivering in the mirror, but decided not to focus her concentration on them. Combing her fingers through her hair, she started to rake out flakes of dry blood. Even with the blood her hair still felt good to the touch. Smiling to herself she was pleased as she felt her hair was just one of her good aspects.

He took a deep breath and started to speak.
“You fell, obviously. Then all of a sudden you appeared in the kitchens of Our Lady of the Southern Reaches.” His eyes bore directly into Llyris’s crystal blue depths and that dimple surfaced again as he paused, smiling ever so briefly.
“You passed out, just as I arrived to get my lunch. Our apprentices received such a fright causing them to screech left and right.”
Llyris again gawked at him “Oh, I’d …. “
He eyed her briefly, and then thoughtfully he spoke “We can talk over a late lunch. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes.” She said demurely.
“We have a lot to talk about. Oh and my name is Raine and you are?”
“Llyris” she spurted out.

Llyris felt as if this was all a daydream, yet she wanted to click her heels and jump into the air. He smiled and the dimple stayed in place.

©FI/ND 2005
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Chill Night 3

Part: Three. Un-named. Same again, help me name it.

The middle aged man had house guests. His son’s lady friend was staying a few days.

Ralph had been able to control his voyeuristic urges for over a year now. But as soon as he saw his sons lady friend he had felt the unmistakable urge boil up and gurgle within himself.
‘Craig won’t be happy; if he caught me doing this.’ Ralph grumbled to himself as he bent an arthritic finger; pulling a conical shaped plug from the wall, dropping it into a vase on his bedside table.
Leaning forward, Ralph peered into the next room.

Sharon stood in front of the mirror; holding a little black dress against her body. Turning right then left she smiled.

Ralph got a fright.

Sharon’s smile revealed two very long, very sharp incisors on either side of her mouth; Sharon lightly brushed the tip of her tongue, down the length of them.

‘Oh My’ Ralph stepped away from his peep hole, grabbing for the bedside table as he did so; he knocked the vase, sending it crashing to the floor.

Sharon heard the noise, looking in the mirror; she glanced at the wall behind her. Crinkling her left eye she barely spotted the peep hole. ‘A dirty old man is Craig’s dad.’ Sharon smiled again. ‘I knew it, from his sheltered thoughts; this certainly cold is advantageous.’ Sharon reached for the hanger draping the dress over it. With a pretense of innocence she reached for the top button of her shirt and undid it.

Ralph couldn’t help himself he turned back to the peep hole, looking through it, his age spotted right hand gripped the bedside table. Ralph watched as Sharon bared her throat, her fingers moving rapidly downward, pulling at the pearl buttons, through their tiny holes; releasing the tension of the white linen that lay across her chest. When the final pearl button came free and the lapels loosened there was a flash of white lace in the mirror.

Ralph’s eyes widened, his grasp on the table tightened. ‘At least she has taste and wears decent lingerie.’ Ralph smiled, he could see her whiter than white skin against the white lingerie. ‘I know her for what she is!’ Ralph thought as he watched her hands undo the zip on her jeans. ‘I am old now; I will not allow her to hurt Craig.’

Ralph’s posture and stance straightened, his old muscles tightening as he watched the creature that was Sharon wiggle out of her jeans. Revealing a barely there G string, her high firm buttocks, were not even dimpled. ‘She certainly is a beauty, even more so now than when alive. I bet!’ Ralph mused in his mind as he watched, nostrils flaring as Sharon stood in front of the mirror, in her lingerie; casting a very quick glance to the peep hole, Sharon ran her hands down her body, over her breast’s, soft palms lingering; down her sides around to her buttocks.

Ralph stepped away from the peep hole; hearing a noise in the hall. Straining his listening; ‘Blast these hearing aids.’ Putting his hand to his ears, Ralph adjusted the volume. Ralph’s eyes narrowed coldly as he looked back into the peep hole.

“I love that look.” Craig spoke as he entered Sharon’s room, walking towards Sharon, he reached for her hand, pulling her towards himself; he kissed her on the mouth.

‘Oh no you don’t…’ Ralph felt upset at what he saw, stepping away from the peep hole ‘Not in my house; not with my son!’ Ralph headed across his bedroom, flinging open the door, he strode out into the hall; walking up to the guests room door.

As Ralph reached for the door handle it opened; Craig and Sharon stood side by side. Finding himself looking straight at his son; Ralph let his eyes wander over his boys features, slowly his gaze went over to Sharon.

Realising he was too late; Ralph took an abrupt step backwards. Knees growing weak he lent against the hall wall; he could see the puncture marks on the side of his son’s neck. ‘She’s bitten him, he is in her thrall!’ Ralph looked at Sharon defiantly.

Sharon’s sensuous lips curved into a smile, her eyes held a glimmer of delight, as she saw the realisation dawn across the Ralph’s old face. Shaking his head Ralph needed a moment to gather his thoughts; for a short moment he felt that he had forgotten where he was. Looking directly at his son, a small well of tears built in his eyes.

“Are you alright Dad?”

Stifling the lump in his throat Ralph replied “Yes, I am fine.” His eyes ran across his sons features “I was lost in a thought, I guess.”

Sharon stepped forward, patting the back of Ralph’s hand, her elongated fingers sending a shiver down his spine.

“Its ok, I do that sometimes too,” her voice showed happiness “When I am relaxed and content. Are you relaxed and content Ralph?” her eyes narrowed and she raised a perfectly coffered eyebrow.

Ralph stood there looking at Sharon, using all of his will power to hold her gaze, and not lose his thoughts to her.

“Yes, I guess I am.” Ralph said as he felt his grip loosen, turning his back on them both he slowly walked back to his room. A cold silent tear slipping down his cheek, as he shut his door; he leant against it. Casting his eyes across the room he let his eyes settle on the photo of his bride. Murmuring to himself he vowed he would take his sons and Sharon’s lives, even if the were already dead. Moving slowly forward he sat on the edge of his bed, a sob escaped his lips as he reached for the photo of his wife; hugging it to his chest he sobbed silently.

©FI/ND 2005

To be continued, depending on the time.
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Chill Night

Part two: Un-named, Help me name it.

Bree looked around the room; memories played in her mind. Knowing something had happened; something evil, yet the feelings that she felt were warm and nice. There were red roses everywhere, gales of laughter broke out constantly, and spreading outwards like a rock thrown into a pond; rippling the water. The noise level in the room seemed quite loud; even the musicians on a pedestal tried to keep up.

Bree felt the eyes, before she looked around. A fat man was insolently running his eyes over her body as he moved past her. Bree looked down and saw to her shock she was, indeed, completely naked. Gasping, she stared wide eyed around the room, to see if anyone else noticed she was.

Bree felt horrified. What happened?

“Very daring dear!” a voice spoke next Bree’s ear.

Looking around abruptly Bree saw the woman that had in her memories; pleasured her and the woman who had attacked herself and Sharon.

‘Sharon! Where’s Sharon? What’s happening here?’ Bree scanned the room looking for her friend. Mentally calling for Sharon did not help, but it did make Bree feel less self conscious.

The woman went on “And clever too, if I could pull it off I would have done it too!”

Bree looked at the woman again. She was smiling; revealing her pearly white teeth, a glint of silver caught the light as the woman’s tongue ran across her lips. Bree looked at the woman for awhile, before she realised the woman’s tongue was pierced. Sending a shiver from her crutch; a Memory came crashing into her mind.

Bree blushed, forcing the memory back into the recesses of her mind.

“Imagine the money that could be saved on clothing if we all had a body like yours. Though with some of the elephants around here…” the woman waved her hand, her bracelets jingling on her wrist as she did so. “They would never consent to looking horrible in public as they do underneath their expensive clothes.”

Bree was confused. Why had she done it? “I hope everyone is taking it well,” she said trying to remain calm.
Her companion was not fooled, “Don’t be embarrassed, not now. All you can do now is pull it off with style.”

Bree stared at the woman and then looking around the room, she saw for the first time, that they all wore togas. Suddenly she felt at ease.

“Coy on top of everything. How so very like you. Charming and daring.” The woman saw how Bree had relaxed.

“Where is Sharon?” Bree spun around and searched the room.

“Sharon’s partaking of pleasures in her own way, Bree.” The woman moved away, floating on the air.

“No,” Bree cried out, trying to make her voice heard over the noise of the party. “Sharon where are you?”

The revelry increased, Bree looked through the windows, and she could see figures moving up the street.

“Who are they?” Bree called out, pointing to the window.

The woman turned, looking over her shoulder. She looked in the direction Bree had pointed.

“You had best flee these invaders, Bree. Who knows what would happen if they captured you.” Raising her fine eyebrows, the woman slowly scanned her eyes down Bree’s body.

Bree knew in her bones, that what the woman had said was right. But she did not want to leave, not knowing where Sharon was. Bree looked around wildly.

“Step through this doorway, Bree,” the woman called “Quickly!”

Turning Bree saw the woman beckoning her, from a narrow door, hidden behind a tapestry. The woman motioned, her gestures becoming more insistent. One last time Bree looked around the room in search of Sharon.

The sound of crashing and banging came to Bree’s senses; a terrible sense that all was lost came upon her, as she walked to the door and stepped through.

©FI/ND 2005
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Chill Night

Frigid darkness surrounds, cold air wrapping itself around everything it touched. The ancient, craggy mountains added to the gloom.

The unpaved path twisted sharply to the left then the right. Night wind blew harder drifting dead leaves around the young couple’s feet. They held hands, neither spoke. Backpacks snug across their backs, it was cold, noses were chilled, breath misting in the frigid air.

They saw the lights in the distance, knowing then a road was near they hastened their steps. Both young ladies had missed their train, now they walked off the main road down a track. The man at the station had said that way would lead them back to town before nightfall.

Nightfall he had said was not a good time to be stretching one’s legs. Strange things happened in this district at night.

A gust of cold air blew up the path, making the ladies shiver. Thick jumpers, gloves, beanies, lambs wool boots and skin-tight jeans didn’t help. The chill was seeping into their clothes.

The path stopped abruptly at a pair of wrought iron gates, the ladies could not see the path beyond the gates. A deep mist had settled in and nothing could be seen in the gloom.

Sharon pushed on the gate and it swung suddenly inward. Looking across at her friend, she leant forward and brushed her lips across her friends cheek whispering, “Come on, I’m freezing.” Sharon tugged her hand.

Bree’s eyes were wide as she passed through the gates. If Sharon had not been holding her hand she would have turned and ran out of the cemetery.

Headstones lay to the right and left as the path wove haphazardly through tombs. Bree’s heart pounded in her chest. ‘One foot then the other,’ she kept saying to herself.

“It’s OK, Bree. We are together, it’s only a cemetery,” Sharon consoled as she felt the tension through Bree’s handhold.

As the ladies approached the centremost tomb, the doors swung open and a figure emerged. Bree froze in her tracks. Sharon let her hand go as she stopped. The figure moved silently towards the ladies and another figure followed.

Sharon spoke, “Ah, excuse me.” Her voice came out as a croak.

At first the figure appeared as a shadow amidst the shadows of the night, but as it came closer, Sharon and Bree realised it was a woman. Her figure was slender and she had a thick mane of wavy, black hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts.

As the clouds drifted, a shaft of moonlight caught her features, causing Bree’s eyes to widen. Sharon’s jaw dropped. The other figure all but forgotten, the pair stared at the astonishingly beautiful woman coming towards them. High cheekbones and a narrow chin were carved to perfection. Her lips were painted blood wine red, accentuating her white skin and wavy black hair.

Dark luminous eyes dominated this striking face. A truly remarkable feature rouged, black around their sides.

Sharon glanced at Bree and noticed she was staring, not at the brunette, but back at the other figure. Tall, blonde and boyish-looking, this figure now stepped forward. On closer inspection they could see it was another woman with hair swaying like silk down her back. She had blood red lips like her companion with skin as white as snow. Her eyes held Bree’s, their bluish grey sparkling in the moon-glow.

Sharon and Bree felt a compulsion. The figures wills were pulling them forward. Bree took a tentative step towards the blonde. Sharon caught her friend’s movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately put her arm out halting Bree’s step. This shook Bree back into awareness.

As one, the two ladies turned, running for their lives. Sharon stumbled and fell, yet called out, “Run Bree, run.”

Bree looked across at her fallen friend and saw the two women descending on her.

“No, no, no,” Bree yelled. Grabbing a rosary that was lying across a headstone, she moved forward with grim determination.

A morose looking man stepped into Bree’s path and a searing pain gripped her side. Her knees buckled and her head swooned. Bree then collapsed without seeing or hearing the fate that had befallen her friend Sharon.

Candle light played across Bree’s chest and arms as she slowly came awake.
“Wh…where am I?” she stammered, licking her lips and turning her head from left to right.

Bree heard the heavy stain of an oak door closing. She blinked rapidly as she saw the eyes, powerful eyes staring down at her. Feeling trapped by the power of the eyes, Bree forced herself to swallow and avert her gaze, making the mistake of looking down in the process

Bree’s eyes now fell on the curve of a neck and the vee of a chest. With a throat that was now dry, she again forced the words from her mouth, “Where am I?” A flash of anger was in her eyes as she spoke.

A nervous smile curved the lips of one face looking down at her.
“Please don’t worry, Bree. We will keep you safe, we love you. We want you to stay. We want you.” The words came in a soft monotone voice.

Bree’s eyes strayed and looking back into blue-grey eyes she heard, “Do you want to stay?”

There was a long pause before Bree replied, “Yes”, in a soft voice.

The blue-grey eyes then disappeared only to be replaced by the dark luminous ones. The brunette’s hovering head leaned forward and she placed her mouth on Bree’s neck asking, “Are you ready for this?’

“Yes” came Bree’s breathy reply.

Pulling Bree’s head back, a smile came across the woman’s lips, “Not yet, you aren’t.”
She let go of the head hold and kissed Bree abruptly on the lips. Long elongated fingers traced down Bree’s tingling body. The kiss lingered as long as the fingers caressed.

Bree was lost; lost in the swoon of the moment and in the promise of pleasures to come.

©FI/ND 2005
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Weekly Report

Anemo Eolics
Visit mernac.com - the great idea to Reading Story
Report for the week of 10th of July – 17th July!
Mernac.com FREE fantasy fiction

First let me point you all to my Open Vault area within the Legends of Mernac. I’ve taken the liberty of showing some examples of my writing and poetry in the Open Vault. Please do look and do please provide feedback. It means so much to writers and potential writers to have feedback.
Now I want to take the time to say “I am so very pleased to be back within LoM and its members have made me feel welcomed.” The Goof-off, threads have provided me with much encouragement and a feeling of friendship and family is building. Little Wind, did suffer badly from eating ‘Fried Onions’ and did apologise for the resulting Hooting and Tooting that followed her around the threads. Luck would have it that they did not carry an odour!
Little Wind is such a playful little whirlwind at times and has been sending some rather Risqué Pm’s to a certain ‘God’. Trying with what I might add some outstanding results to make said ‘God’ laugh so hard that they fall from their throne. Luckily not as great a fall as that of all the ‘Fathers’ from the heavens of Mernac. I do hope that the ‘God’ had some rather soft rugs to land upon or even a ‘Succubi’ or two!
After looking through the Mernacian shop , I came up with a couple of ideas which I promptly PM’d to Rick and The Other. Hopefully these ideas will come to fruitation. They were for some LoM business cards and some notebook covers for the scribes and possibly a book of Mernacian friendship. You know with direct friendly quotes by some of the key characters throughout the Legends of Mernac.

Now I must move onto the requirements of my Discipleship. Below you will find the proofreading that I have nailed within the site.
TS&E Solved! (Thanks to Father Elsen)
Not in order of appearance.
(solved) L Plate test – Makes me a P plater. Laughs throatily.
?? Blown them off the pages ?? – The VP is looking into some of these.
Naughty Question Marks
TS&E Drawing the Bowstring
More stray ?? -
Scribe to scribe forum:
Legends:
Characters:
Rage, Disciple of Elsen. - Nailed!
Canu Baraksson (Disciple of Music) - Nailed!
Places:
We really need to work on getting some of these published, so as the scribes can use the information contained within to further enhance their tomes.
Lore:
Items:
Saplings:
D20 RPG Content

Now I’d like to take the opportunity once again. To say in early 2006 the site suffered with a major crash and since that time we have suffered with stray ??, roaming the site. However, dear Anemo, got all huffy and blew the majority of them off the tomes. Marking them as Solved! However, if you do happen to spot one or two escapees, please do leave her a note with the last known sighting link. Therefore, she can swirl onto the pages and blow the blighters into the ether!
On going Saga’s:
Battle for Traddlebow:
16. Waiting for the Outlander - Nailed!
17. Dream sailing. - Nailed!
Other Published areas covered:
Roadius - Nailed!
Shemptwiddle - Nailed!
The Mothers & Fathers - Nailed!
Amazons - Nailed!

I also fixed the typos in my published works and the stray ? that showed up. It was good to re read the work and I did do a little revisement. Which is a good thing, as the Legends of Mernac has grown greatly since they were first published.
I’ve even added some tales to the Scribe to scribe forum myself. If you want to see what I’ve done, look there!
This week’s featured blog belongs to

The Other!
Remember this Anemos choice! Apparently there’s some fun going on with Siberlee’s Masternac credit card.
& the featured Disciples Blog is
Arleas Kaedani aka Julie
An exceptionally talented scribe, with lots to offer!
Now I just cannot go without mentioning my favorite Mernacian artist
Kachinadoll!
Who of course created the image of Anemo Eolic, Vickielysia
, Elsen & an image of Incubus Frost. Just to name a few.
Free Ebooks:

Mernac.com FREE fantasy fiction

Now if you just wish to read there are ton’s of Tomes that are published. They can be located through the links provided. Now as a rule of thumb within the Legends of Mernac, you need to have a Character to start your tale and then a Legend to accompany that tale. Then you move onto Lore. Once you have read these and find that you want to further the reading, just follow the links that are attached to each and keep moving through the wide and varied world of Mernac.
The above also applies to the fact that if you wish to become a Scribe you need to write one of each of the above. However, you need to find and Open sapling of a character and take it from there. Do please consult with the original scribe and the ‘God’ of the era that you wish to write in. Above all, it is ‘Research, Research, & more Research!’ In LoM, we all aim to keep our tales as factual as possible, with information that is already provided by the scribes.
Now there is yet more to the Legends of Mernac, you have Places that you can read about. Just discovering the landscape of Fantasy is amazing. Imagine if you could write your own version! Then without forgetting inside all of the tomes there are Items that require there own tale or just a brief description. So many potential opportunities and inspirations are provided for the imaginative writer.
Fantasy Readers:

Mernac.com FREE fantasy fiction

The Dragon provides you with the likes of Announcements, Contest Content, Guides, Interviews (read Rick Merrimans, it is brilliant!), Monthly Art Contest information, Ricks world, Art Tips from Siphion, Disciples of the Gods, How to, Mernac Articles, Press Releases and Saga’s & Books.
All very valuable to the members of Mernac and of course to the prospective members.
D20 resources, provide the potential gamer or even the gamer with vast opportunities to make their own contributions to what will eventually become a Premier Game site!
Musicians are not forgotten within the site. We need music it provides an auditory background to the tales and game. Our very own CanuBaraksson/Morgan has many great ideas on the subject and its potential within LoM. He is after all the Music Disciple to Barak, Father of Darkness and add to that he is very approachable. Often he can be found at THE JUKEBOX JOINT (Musicians Lounge).
Music Contests:

Mernac.com FREE fantasy fiction

Inside News:
Now here’s a little info, it appears that within Siberlee’s Blog there is a recruitment of ‘Gods’ happening. If you have the desired aspirations. Go for it! Lots of silver to be had for worthy Mernacians.
Oh look at this. The Game continues. A deciphering the inhabitants of Mernac will go. Giggles loudly. Won by Vickie! Congratulations!
Indeed there is some informative reading to be had in the ‘God of Lusts’ Blog. Being a sage is just as good as being a ‘God’, hmm, maybe you will be busier! However, there are some excellent examples of some great sensual art work sitting there, just being a little more tempting than candy!
My dearest little fire lighter, I have missed her in my absence. Mischievous imps we be, must be careful not to let one of those little bottom burps go in her company now. Or I will indeed have a burning ring of fire!
Many new Open/Closed saplings have been in the making, yet there is still room for more. All those in receipt of a TS&E, please look at the Character & Item listing provided and check if these things have been scribed. If not, why not! Just do it and allow another scribe to share his or her vision of a bit of your tale!

Wednesday, 11 July 2007

My Life as a God: Question of the Week - 1

Quonts Question

Visit mernac.com - the great idea to Reading Story

It appears that Quont has come up with yet again another good way to keep all Mernacians Blogging. It is listed as a weekly question and that is Our first question is…

In reply to the question:
I was issued an invite through Silvervalkyrie, being of a curious nature, I had to come and have a look. Now at the time, I was a member of WDC, and Funwriters. In both of these groups, I reviewed/critiqued and proofread. I am a senior mentor in FW, prior to joining LoM. (Which I still belong to, but hardly frequent, as I am in LoM all the time!) Initially, I joined The Legends of Mernac as a Beta-Tester and just located some smaller problems. However, I did wander around lost for a while, during that time. I read and proofread a few tales and wrote my first Character, Lore & Legend.

Like many others, I too, became addicted to the site. Enjoying the community and the potential that could easily be seen through Ricks eyes. Though, I tended to stay in the background, (My offline life was in a bit of turmoil.) not wanting to add to the stressors that I was already handling.
The OSC (open source creativity) of LoM, was the clincher. I’d had a bad trot at a few other sites and was fast becoming disheartened with writing and reading. Over the past year, I’ve dropped in and out of LoM, but always returned and added my little brand of humour to the site. Never feeling ridiculed and always treated with a great deal of respect and enthusiasm, has renewed my vigour for writing and reading.

Plus all the inspiration Open saplings created by Quont, Rick and too many others to mention.



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Anemo Eolic, her Character

Anemo Eolic is a name that is the combining form borne by the wind given to her by Elsen. It was through Aventa Half-Elven, the creator of the Third Path of Focus and the third of Elsen's apprentices to be elevated to Ethereal Master, that Anemo was drawn to studying Ethereal Wind. In the past, Anemo was a humble barmaid/female thug that just could not contain some urges. Anemo was born in Mispoint, the City of Halflings, in the Kingdom of Hob, in Cathall.

As Anemo was a human half elf, though more human than elf, she opted to take test of the night of thirteen dreams and it descended upon her in her eightieth season. Because of Anemo Eolics hooting n tooting ways, she wanted to follow the Aventa Path of Ethereal Mastery. As soon as she started her studies, she had no choice over what element she focused on: the ‘Ethereal Wind Element’ was within her!

Her flaming luxurious red hair once glittered, but when she began her studies of Ethereal Wind, she developed traits similar to her chosen element. Her hair, once flaming, became pale and transparent and her eyes, though still as blue as the heavens, developed cloudiness, just a pale whisper of sansar whiteness. Her clothes, as before her apprenticeship, were large and loud. Voluminous billows of skirts would alee from her body. As she shifted across the lands, her bodice would ripple delicately while she danced or it would squall, flying in the flurry of her variable moods.

Anemo was a somewhat robust female, unlike her male counterparts. Her physical attributes bore resemblance to her astrological sign with healthy skin, pearly teeth, silky hair, & fine lips. Her diplomatic character was assuredly prone to frivolity, and she was very flirtatious, perceptive, and idealistic and refined which certainly bore the fact that she was indeed a Butterfly.

As Anemo grew and transformed into her powers, absorbing more and more knowledge and Ga, people began to observe the flux in her condition. Those who ventured too close to her would feel the air pressure change enough to pop their ears. This pressure change marked her maturity in Ethereal Mastery. Anemo loved to dance, and loved to sing (often it sounded like howling, but who would tell a wind element that they were off key!). Reading and writing soon became a valuable pastime to Anemo and thus her scholarly education began.

Anemo focused on her studies, and early in the fifteenth season of her training, she discovered she was an ‘anemoscope’ a natural direction recorder. This made it easier for her to feed her hunger, but not only that, it allowed her to direct her own fury, tempest, whiff, huff, and ripples; along with other attributes that she used to herald the wind. The wind coiled within her being and her strength grew. Many items in the Lands of Mernac fed her wind, but she wanted more than internal wind; she wanted to become the wind and manipulate it to her wants and needs.

Anemo voluntarily became a Disciple of Elsen, in the moon of Fivo, in the seven-hundred & eighty fifth season. Readily throwing her lacquered nails into the air and across the Lands of Mernac, her hooting n tooting ways were not to be kiboshed.

Father Elsen's other disciples often would call out to Anemo. Vickie, the Fire Disciple, would tease and trick Anemo into coming closer and closer, thus fanning her flames. When these two sisters were in close quarters, much devastation befuddled the Lands of Mernac. Anemo disliked touching the ground, yet at times, you knew she had touched down. Goran, the Earth Disciple, would often throw rocks in Anemo’s direction. Because of Earth's destructive influence over Wind, Goran enjoyed provoking Anemo. When she touched land, the corkscrew effect of her presence would always incur his wrath, especially since she was leaving in her wake much devastation.

Occasionally, she would enjoy the lure of a tunnel, the thrill of danger luring her into Goran's easy reach, yet most of the time she was heard whistling and cavorting in the trees and around the mountains. Anemo is rather fond of icy cold winters, the chill adding power to the effects of wind. Socially, she can be distracted and flighty, much like the ‘Wind Element’ itself -yet she is forceful enough to direct anything to her will. With a few notable exceptions, such as Elsen or Goran's destructive touch.

Her aura is often seen playing across the currents of lakes, tickling at trouser legs and flipping up ladies' skirts.

When in her human/elf form, Anemo Eolic was not so different from her elemental form. As she transformed into a disciple, Anemo became completely Ethereal Wind. Though she could not solidify her own body, she could make partially see-through puppets to interact with mortal folk. Her gases consisted of colors reflecting her moods, and hence Anemo chose to blend in with those around her.

By appearing in shadow puppet form, Anemo applies an extension of herself to others, the motivation behind this skill enables Anemo to explain, explore, embrace, or analyze the conditions of the Mernacians. It is one of the safest ways for her to act out, act up, entertain, educate, commiserate, wonder aloud, unburden herself, or release her feelings. Anemo has used this skill from before her transformation to disciple. It was what drew Elsens attention to her in the first place. By using her strong powers of the Ethereal Wind to fulfil her need to tell stories, she would lapse into a shadow puppet to further entertain her audience; it also sated her desire to see the good guys win and justice done. Anemo creates a lighted area behind her; the light infuses her shadow, allowing selected inhabitants of Mernac to view her in her ‘Ethereal’ form. The translucent gases appear as three-dimensional painted auras, making Anemo visually appealing to the eyes of those that behold her. However, it takes an enormous amount of her Ga to stay in her puppetry form.

It has always been both a sword and a shield to Anemo, her armor in a world of frustrations and disappointments. Anemo realised that in her shadow puppet form, she could easily frighten the mortal races and tried to keep ahead of the game called life. Nevertheless, she did not get away with her tricks so often. Running on the breeze was her fastest getaway, her tongue would often tantalize and tease, yet it could be a whiplash and come across as crude or rude.

In her Ethereal form, Anemo can interpret the noises and language of all the inhabitants of Mernac, marking her as one of the few disciples that, through the nature of her element, has the ability to perceive sound on the physical world of Mernac. Elsen's disciples can only view the physical world through the Ethereal Element they become. As sound disturbs the air and as Anemo is one with the air, it makes her perception of languages even easier.

As a Disciple of Elsen, she has control over Ethereal Wind equal to his. This is not limited to Ethereal Mastery, but also includes the ability to withhold the element from others. However, she cannot, solidify her own ethereal body without Elsen nearby, needing to construct puppets of solid air to interact with the physical world. When Elsen is near any of his disciples, he suffers a Trauncha, a penalty for the creation of his disciples. This Trauncha makes him helpless, unable to control any of his Ethereal Elements. When Anemo senses his presence, she feels apprehension mirroring his own, for she knows he will repel her with Ethereal Earth before she can get too close.

Nevertheless, always, there is that sprinkle of a smile dancing at the edges of her sansar, white washed, blue eyes.

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