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Author Topic: Poitar and Shassyn / The Thergerim Cavern  (Read 5842 times)
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Lamertu Kthaen
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« on: 19 March 2003, 15:54:00 »

For Lucirina

Every day may bring new draughts,
Every day may bring new wolves,
But every yearwhen Injera's furthest,
You may find Thergerim's cavern
Where life is sweet and without worries
Eternity one step away

In Merinde, on the other side of the ocean, when Essuans's footsteps could still be heard, there lived a twin. They were a boy and a girl, and the boy was named Poitar, which means hope, and the girl was named Shassyn, which means despair. For these were the last words their mother cried before she died, giving birth to them. And they were born in hard times, when the Pestilence had struck the blessed lands, and our people...

But I am not telling you this story to fill your young hearts with grief and terror, or sing to you the deeds terrible and glorious by our ancestors; you are not ripe yet to grasp fully their meaning. This tale is about cakes and laughter and there even is some fireworks involved.

The twin's youth was spent in the last years of our people in Merinde, when the light was like permanent dusk. They lived in a great ancient house, but the halls that were once filled with industrious people, were now as peaceful as a grave. Their only companion ( for their father Avin was away most of the time gouverning the lands) was their old and grey nurse, who told them every night before they went to bed the now long-lost tales of the beginning of time, and the great Adventures of the Ancestors*. When the candle was blown out, it turned pitch black and dead quiet, and going to sleep in such circumstances was a difficult task, although the children fantasized about the great tales.

Before Poitar and Shassyn turned six, when the winter was nearing, the fierce wroth of the Dragon Nagir entered the ancient lands; where he passed the ground became unfruitful, the rivers were lain dry, and the trees were scorched. Men (even the bravest) fled from the unsatiable hunger and bloodthirst of the wyrm, often to no avail, trying for the havens to sail for the new-discovered land of Akdor. The twins and their father were forced to run for their lives as well, and it was even Avin who, though unwillingly, unleashed the dragon. But how that came to pass is a different story, and an unappropriate one for such young children at that.

The nurse, Yehen, would not leave the house, even though the twins and their father tried to persuade her. But she was bound to the lands as firmly as an ancient oak, by her memories of her lost husband and of her joyous youth. She was not alone, being joined by other grandfathers and -mothers. It is claimed that the dragon had no interest for them, and that they even now live on in the blessed lands.

Let's go back to the twins. They arrived safely in the harbor-city of Cerpair. The city shone with a bleak light, just like the misty morning sun looks like in the month of the Turning Star, for the ancient treasures were gathered in the imperial city. The children marvelled at the great statues of the kings of old; they still had a look of authority and sternness about them, as if they were still alive. The occasional foot or hand, and even a head was missing, and they had been withered partly away by ancient winds and waters, but on that day the kings looked as alive as on their most glorious days.

Their stay at the imperial Cerpair could not last, for the wroth of Nagir was upon them; a thousand sails were readied for their flight. But do not think that our people looked forward to their departure, for the land had been their home for thousands of years, and it was indeed where man first sat foot upon Aér'aí'chán.

Avin, the cause of Nagir's awakening was assigned as captain of the LastDefense to keep the monster off while all but one ship set sail across the unknown seas. This last boat, carrying Poitar and Shassyn, would wait to bring the last guards of Merinde to Akdor.

But the captain Admen was weakhearted, and as the black wings flew over the last hills, his courage gave way and left the harbor, left Merinde, left the Last Defense, left Avin. Poitar and Shassyn however felt their heart grow when they saw their father steadfast, calling at the beast; they realized they could not leave him, jumped off into the icy waters, and started swimming ashore.

Long and fierce the battle raged along the windswept shores
Iron spears and iron hands wrought together
Boling blood and silt water became one
Dying shadows against a dying sun.

The flower of Merinde fell on its last sad day, fighting, retreating, groaning, weeping, bleeding, dying. And with every death Essuan shed a red tear, for he knew that the glory of Merinde would never return. But do not cry, my children, and remember them by celebrating the future they gave us.

In the end, only Avin stood tall against the Dragon, his left hand hanging lifeless beside him, as if pointing towards his dead comrades, wielding his spear with his right arm only. He was filled with grieve and rage, determined to fight himself to death. The tragic hero spoke in defiance to Nagir, cursing him for the death of his friends and his comrades, the destruction of the ancient lands, and reminding him of the vengeful kings of old.
But Nagir transformed himself into Kessen, Avin's father, and said that Avin himself was the curse of Merinde, his own downfall by his awakening of the Dragon, and that the kings of old were since long dead and buried under icecold rocks, and that Avin was all alone in his hopeless battle. The Dragon's voice had grown sweet and poisonous, and at the same time harsh, as if he was speaking to a child, and full of wizardry,and it was not long before Avin began to believe its words, and he wanted to surrender himself to the beast.

But just at that moment Maharut, his horn, resounded powerfully from the hills. Some say that it were the ghosts of the buried kings, coming to help Avin in his final battle, and some say that it was the wind, and few say that it was Poitar. Whoever it was, the sound of the horn blast away wizardry as easy as the wind guides the waves.

Avin came back to his senses, and filled with rage he thrust forward his iron spear into Nagirs heart. But the beast was swift, and gripped the last lord in a deadly grip. Both died on the merciless beaches. No one wept for them, no one buried them, no one guided Avin to his forefathers.

Poitar and Shassyn, lying on the forsaken beaches, were too tired by their swim, by their emotions, wet by seawater and cold by seawind, sought comfort by eachother. They fell into a restless, dreamless, endless, sleep.

No-one knows how long they slept, how long they lay there near the sea, how much days past, or weeks, or months, or years, but one day they both woke up and watched the sun come up over the lands, bringing light to to the lands that had been lain to waste, and watched the clear reflection on what was left of Cerpair. But the light had changed, had become more cold, ancient, as if it was only a memory of the rays that had once shone on Merinde.

From the dunes a song came down upon them, sung by a harsh tongue, but somehow they felt that it was filled with love, and it was not long before they joined in:

"Here I stand upon the beach
stand alone upon the beach
Looking at the endless waves
Over which my friends have passed.
Butterfly, you first of birds,
Sing these words into their ears:

Caves and homes are cold and dark
Changed forever, still the same
Thousand years of history stilled
Frozen by the lack of men
Hammers hammered endlessly
Manufactured axe and jewel

Here I stand upon the beach
stand alone upon the beach
Looking at the endless waves
Over which my friends have passed.
Butterfly, you first of birds,
Sing these words into their ears:

Sun and Moon stride slowly by,
thousand years have  run since then,
luckless autumn when you left,
leaving me with golden leaves.
Leaves to soil, turned into trees;
Silver halls became my death.

Here I stand upon the beach
stand alone upon the beach
Looking at the endless waves
Over which my friends have passed.
Butterfly, you first of birds,
Sing these words into their ears."

And from over the hills came a stunted little man wearing an impressive grey beard and dull grey cloths. He suddenly held still at the top of the dune, stopped singing and looked over the seas. After a minute he turned around, and walked away towards the direction he came from, singing another song.

Poitar and Shassyn were relieved to see that someone else was still alive, and they tried to keep up with the manikin. And as they came closer, they saw that he was only one and a half ped high, and that his clothing was beset with small glinstering jewels and brooches.

But the children could not come within five peds of him, however hard they ran, as if he was shielded by some ancient magic. So they walked on and on, singing sombre songs.. Over the plains they went, through the woods, and past the hills, until they came to a great mountain of black rock, mirroring the last white moonray.

And the bearded man stopped singing, and lay a hand on the rock and wispered as if talking to the rock: "Mó Chaia Yeta"
Thus he created an  entrance into the mountain, dark as the heart of the earth, yet warm as their long dead mother's hearth. As the twins followed the man into the total darkness of the cave, it became more and more quiet. They could not hear the birds announcing a new dawn, nor see the sun rising anew upon the land. A feeling of timelessness set in.

Suddenly, the man came to a halt, and the twins came close to bumping into him. There they stood for a moment in total darkness, in total silence, as if on another world. Again, the man declared: "Mó Chaia Yeta". But his voice had grown stronger, fuller, more solem, and the words filled the cavern.

The words ran over the floor, bounced of the rocks, crept against the ceiling, flew over the underground waters, filled the mountain. Then, for a moment, there was absolute silence. From nowhere, an echo reached our group, a lighter, dancing, cheerful yet serious voice, and at the same time, a torch was lit, revealing a great undergound lake, pillared with timehewn stalactites and stalacmites, flowing over into one.

A second light appeared, preceded by an older sister of the first echo, stronger and sadder. It showed an ancient bridge  constructed with the strangest and most wonderful metal, which stretched over an unending chasm and was covered with runes.

Then, voices and lights sprang up from all over the cavern, showing the glittering ceiling  miles above their head, as if beset with priceless jewels. A city was lighted, but silent and motionless as a grave. In the middle of it, a great statue of a sturdy man leaning on a double sided battleaxe.

The voices stopped, and there was complete silence.

For the first time that evening, the Thergerim spoke to Poitar and Shassyn: "This, my children, is my home, as it had been to my race since the world was young. But my people have departed, and the Cave has grown dark and damp, and now I alone tend their Bright Carvings.
I feel my ears deafening, my eyes blinding, my legs failing, every day. And now you, two strangers, have been found on the beach, orphants to this world, just like me. All that is left to me is to show you the wonders of the Thergerim so that they may live on in your hearts and minds, into eternity.
Yet the twins were overcome by exhaustion and overwhelmed by the beauty of the cavern and had fallen asleep on the ageless floor.

The next morning (if anything could be called morning in a place the sun has never touched) the twins woke up and thought it had all been a dream or a nightmare, until they opened their eyes and saw a mountain of the most delicious spices. They beheld cakes and cookies, beef and berries, mollusks and mushrooms, stew and salmon, pancakes and pears of a most ancient breed
And Indeed their tummies rumbled, for lo!, they had not eaten for at least a day. They ate the whole morning, the whole day, the whole week, the whole month, the whole year, until they both had forgotten the hunger they had suffered from. With satisfied mouths, they again fell asleep on the ageless floor.
When the children woke up again, they saw the cave alighted by the most beautiful fireworks, red, yellow, green, blue, dragonnets, khendochar, mermaids, and exploding stars. The children were so impressed they forgot the fall of Merinde's Last Defense. Yet the year passed, and the cave became hollow once again.

From out of the shadows the Thergerim returned to them, declaring: "Now you have seen a small part of our manufactures, and we have shown our good intentions towards you. Now, what do you desire of me?"
At first, their hearts filled with desire for more beauty, but their thoughts were darkened when they remembered the circumstances in which they were found, the uncertain future their people had. And Poitar said: "Beauty you may have, and wealth, but in this place there is only room for the dead. Please, take us back to our race, wherever they may be."
The Thergerim's face turned white, then turned red, but at last he seemed to be able control himself. "If that is what you want, you shall have it."

The world turned black once more, and the cave seemed to close in on them, enclose them, and the twin had to fight for their breath. Then, a light showed up above them, small, greyish, and infintely far away. They could do nothing but crawl their way upward, to freedom. Panting, their lungs screaming for air, they reached the light.
They had arrived in Akdor.



****
This is a dwarven song, maybe composed after the leaving of Brok to Denilou
****

*Penda'u Ancestors are the seven Cow-gods, the founders of the seven clans.
*Merinde is Santharia/ Caaehlheroth
*Essuan is the main Penda'u god, and considered forefather to all men.

***Runorian Pit worm tender and proud of it***

Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 8/16/03 14:24
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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #1 on: 19 March 2003, 18:02:00 »

A very intresting story... are you going to continue it?

However, one thing i noticed... the story goes.... too fast, if you understand. When i read it, i feel like i am running. Try to maybe write with more words, so that the story slos donw a bit. Like this for example:

Before Poitar and Shassyn turned six, when the winter was nearing, the fierce wroth of the Dragon Nagir entered the ancient lands; where he passed the ground became unfruitful, the rivers were lain dry, and the trees were scorched. Men (even the bravest) fled from the unsatiable hunger and bloodthirst of the wyrm, often to no avail, trying for the havens to sail for the new-discovered land of Akdor. The twins and their father were forced to run for their lives as well, and it was even Avin who, though unwillingly, unleashed the dragon. But how that came to pass is a different story, and an unappropriate one for such young children at that.

This can be slowed down like this:

Just before Poitar and Shassyn, the twins this story is all about, turned six, and while the winter was still nearing, the fierce dragon Nagir entered the ancient lands. His wrath was great, and his powers terrible. Where he passed, the ground became unfruitful; the rivers dried, the trees were scorched, and even the air became sickening. No man could defeat the dragon; even the bravest heroes fled before the unsatisfiable hunger and bloodthirst of the creature. However, running away often proved a task not easily accomplished, and the only remaining hope for the people was to sail away, to the newly discovered lands of Akdor.

The twins, as well as their father, were forced to run for their lives, and that was even Avin, who, trought unwillingly, had unleashed the dragon. But how that came to pass is a different story, and a rather inappropriate one for children as young as you are.

(On the other hand, it should be noted that i am no master of writing, so the Bard should look at this)


Edited by: Silfer Darkflare at: 3/19/03 12:13:56 am
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Lamertu Kthaen
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« Reply #2 on: 19 March 2003, 19:15:00 »

You are quite right Silfer. The problem is in telling this story is that it is a epic drama and at the same time a fairytale, so it's quite hard to combine the two different styles. It was meant this way though, to express the main themes (hope = fairytale and despair epic drama). I sure will continue this story:)   . The problem is that stories seem to expand when telling them. At first, I wanted to start with something like. In Merinde, there lived a twin, and they were orphants, and the land was barren and oid of other people, for they had left for Akdor. But it calls for much explaining.

Furthermore, it should become a trilogy ( another story told from Avin's point of view, a psychological epic drama, and a mythology, told from the view of the last of kings). So some explanation can be done in those tales.

And yes, this should be the draft version, much changes to be made.

Just in case you were wondering, the story should take place in Caael'heroth between 1655 and 1650 before Santhros, just after the Dragonstorm and the year of the Burning Night. It is told about 1500 years later, so the two events are turned around. Merinde is Caaelheroth.

Edited by: Lamertu Kthaen at: 3/19/03 9:15:25 pm
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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #3 on: 19 March 2003, 19:33:00 »

Well, I don't think you should focus too much on the epic drama.... if you want to have fairytale-like comments, go for it, if you want a epic story, write it that way... as those two are different writing styles, and this story looks as a story for children, it should be more fairytale then epic drama.  


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« Reply #4 on: 20 March 2003, 16:46:00 »

Well I wouldn't go so far as to say that an epic and a fairy-tale are two different writing styles.

A fairy-tale is a writing style, whereas an epic is the event that encompasses the fairy-tale. An example would be the movie "Pearl Harbor" The romance is what the epic event called Pearl Harbor, surrounds. However, you are right about it "running". Slow it down and expand it. Besides I hear a certain someone likes long entries.

Eh Art? ;)

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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #5 on: 05 April 2003, 13:30:00 »

Finally I return to my commenting duties, Lamertu... And I have to agree with Winlok and Silfer about the "running" thing. You put a lot of information in a few sentences and my lousy brain has difficulties to get it all in order when the next sentences provide already further info. E.g. you point to other threads and then say (twice I guess) that this is another story etc, which is probably not that good. Once is ok, but leaving too much open threads isn't good for the concept.

I also would propose  to decide what you want to write: A fairy tale, kept more simple, or an epic, with more historical background. I would vote for the first option and write another story and make the other one more epic.

Also propose to add

a) the short summary (after it's finished)
b) explain the most important words directly in the text in brackets like [ and ], e.g. Merinde, Essuan etc. People should be able to understand the references immediately, even if they aren't very accustomed to Akdorian things, you know?


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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #6 on: 05 April 2003, 13:43:00 »

I agree with all Art said, exept one thing: The "but this is another story" things- they are nice, and definatekly not overused in this story. Another thing I have read in a fairytale, that I belive is a brilliant way of removing unnecessary details: "I was imprisoned here by a wizard so great and so old and so powerful, that neither you nor I have to worry aobut him"

Such things are nice "spicy" additions, and not overused here.


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Lamertu Kthaen
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« Reply #7 on: 07 April 2003, 15:48:00 »

As I said before, the fairytale/ muth writing style is only mixed because I want to stress the hope (fairytale) and despair (epic drama) theme, and is quite essential. Will work on the running as soon as I finished the draft.

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« Reply #8 on: 14 April 2003, 14:04:00 »

Intresting additions, and the story is now not running anymore. Check your grammar, please: Several places a comma would help a lot. Also, one thing I see several places: You should use the period mark more often! E.g.:

The Dragon's voice had grown sweet and poisonous, and at the same time harsh, as if he was speaking to a child, and full of wizardry,and it was not long before Avin began to believe its words, and he wanted to surrender himself to the beast.


This is one big, long and hard to grasp sentence. Split it up, like this for example:

The Dragon's voice had become sweet and poisonous with wizardry, yet at the same time harsh - as if the beast was speaking to a child. Soon, Avin began to believe it's words, and after a while he even wanted to surrender himself to the dragon.

Anothet thing: Keep your eye on what tnce you use. I am not sure if you have any mistakes on it here, but starting the quoted paragraph with "had grown" (Dont know what the tence is called) sounds.... strange to me.


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« Reply #9 on: 19 April 2003, 03:43:00 »

Ok, did an Uri-check here on chapter 1 (is chapter 2 done? let me know when it is before I'll check it)... Looks much better now:)  Looking forward to see ti continued...

Questions: Will this become a complete collection of stories in the end under one title? If so, could you give the whole thing a title (or is Poitar and Shassyn / The Thergerim Cavern the final title for the whole thing?). Having title chapters this would of course be also fine. Also I would need a summary/teaser to put on top of the Library entry before I can put it up...

Poitar and Shassyn / The Thergerim Cavern

Chapter One

Every day may bring new draughts,
Every day may bring new wolves,
But every year when Injèrá's furthest,
You may find Thergerim's cavern
Where life is sweet and without worries
Eternity one step away


In Merinde (you say "Santharia/Caaehlheroth"... uhmmm... Santharia is a current kingdom, no mythical land. So do you mean the continent of Sarvonia in general?), on the other side of the ocean, when Essuans's footsteps could still be heard, there lived twins. They were a boy and a girl, and the boy was named Poitar, which means "hope", and the girl was named Shassyn, which means "despair" (in which language please?). For these were the last words their mother cried before she died, giving birth to them. And they were born in hard times, when the pestilence had struck the blessed lands, and our people...

But I am not telling you this story to fill your young hearts with grief and terror, or sing to you the deeds terrible and glorious by our ancestors; you are not ripe yet to fully grasp their meaning. This tale is about cakes and laughter and there even is some fireworks involved.

The twin's youth was spent in the last years of our people in Merinde, when the light was like permanent dusk. They lived in a great ancient house, but the halls that were once filled with industrious people were now as peaceful as a grave. Their only companion (for their father Avin was away most of the time gouverning the lands) was their old and grey nurse, Yehen, who told them every night before they went to bed the now long-lost tales of the beginning of time, and the great Adventures of the Ancestors. When the candle was blown out, it turned pitch black and dead quiet, and going to sleep in such circumstances was a difficult task, although the children fantasized about the great tales.

Before Poitar and Shassyn turned six, when the winter was nearing, the fierce wrath of the Dragon Nagir entered the ancient lands; where he passed the ground became unfruitful, the rivers were lain dry, and the trees were scorched. Men (even the bravest) fled from the unsatiable hunger and bloodthirst of the wyrm, often to no avail, trying for the havens to sail for the new-discovered land of Akdor. The twins and their father were forced to run for their lives as well, and it was even Avin who, though unwillingly, unleashed the dragon. But how that came to pass is a different story, and an inappropriate one for such young children at that.

The nurse would not leave the house, even though the twins and their father tried to persuade her. But she was bound to the lands as firmly as an ancient oak, by her memories of her lost husband and of her joyous youth. She was not alone, being joined by other grandfathers and -mothers. It is claimed that the dragon had no interest for them, and that they even now live on in the blessed lands.

Let's go back to the twins. They arrived safely in the harbor-city of Cerpair from where they intended to leave their homeland (Assume that's a mythical city of Caaehl'heroth? Not on any map, but ok, if it's non-existing today. Addition was made cause it's not clear if they arrived at an Akdor haven or at a Sarvonian one). The city shone with a bleak light, just like the misty morning sun looks like in the month of the Turning Star, for the ancient treasures were gathered in the imperial city. The children marvelled at the great statues of the kings of old; they still had a look of authority and sternness about them, as if they were still alive. The occasional foot or hand, and even a head was missing, and they had been withered partly away by ancient winds and waters, but on that day the kings looked as alive as on their most glorious days.

Their stay at the imperial Cerpair could not last, for the wrath of Nagir was upon them; a thousand sails were readied for their flight. But do not think that our people looked forward to their departure, for the land had been their home for thousands of years, and it was indeed where man first sat foot upon Aér'aí'chán.

Avin, the cause of Nagir's awakening was assigned as captain of the Last Defense to keep the monster off while all but one ship set sail across the unknown seas. This last boat, carrying Poitar and Shassyn, would wait to bring the last guards of Merinde to Akdor.

But the captain Admen was weakhearted, and as the black wings flew over the last hills, his courage gave way and left the harbor, left Merinde, left the Last Defense, left Avin. Poitar and Shassyn however felt their heart grow when they saw their father steadfast, calling at the beast. They realized they could not leave him, jumped off into the icy waters, and started swimming back ashore.


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Dala Valannia
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« Reply #10 on: 19 April 2003, 20:17:00 »

Good story and I like the fairy-tale elements very much and 'another story for another day' trick. The last reminds me of Michael Ende's 'The Neverending Story' :)  I got slightly misdirected in the beginning though, I thought I was going to read about the story of the twins but it kinda ended up being the story of their father, Avin! But I suppose you're going to continue the chapters and focus will switch back to the twins again?  

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Lamertu Kthaen
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« Reply #11 on: 20 April 2003, 06:52:00 »

Thanks for the notes and praises :) .

About the story: It is presumably written down in the thrid or fourth century aS. in Pendalu. Therefore, Sarvonia is considered a mythical land and called Merinde, although it might also be specifically used for the Caaehlheroth peninsula only (such mixup would be logical after twothousand years).

The story in which it is told is ehm, well, the penda'u language (or an older variant of it) (which still needs a name). Not sure whether I should add this in the story.

I intend to write two more penda'u stories about the same period, and they might be collected in the same "book". But it is oral tradition, and only recently written down. Chapter Two is not done. Will remove the chapter titles, since chapters are useless in oral history.

To Dala: Yes, the story dwindled off and is now following Avin. Intended. Father = despair, dies, epic myth, old. Children = hope, live on, fairytale, young.

Will finish the story later on this week.

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« Reply #12 on: 09 May 2003, 05:05:00 »

at last, part three

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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #13 on: 09 May 2003, 05:16:00 »

Can you make sure that part 1 is done first? It won't go up if I don't have a confirmation.


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« Reply #14 on: 09 May 2003, 16:53:00 »

It's not finished yet

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