Vincent was the son of a baron of the Greater Sand Plain. he was a decent person, until someone decided to pour a casket of rats on him. after that, he turned bitter and went all out hostile on 'Blizzard' company.

now back to the story...


"our group of recruits was known as 'Blizzard' company. and we had our private nemesis, 'Trail' company. it was all fun and games as a few exchanged pranks between drills. but there was on person there who never played a prank on any one. Vincent."

Today instead of the normal story entry, I decided to this funny fact with you. one day my brother saw a squirrel out the window and decided to play a prank on it. so he went up to the window with a cushion and slammed it against the window. in response, the squirrel jumped straight up and turned 360 degrees and landed in utter confusion. If you want to replicate this scene, remember that there is a risk of breaking the window(that means you TOBY!)

" a few days after that incident, we arrived at Dargonn Port. And so began our training. those pale skinned, soon tanned; those smooth fleshed, callused and sun-burnt. We all sweated from sun up to sun down."
" I learned how to mend wounds on the run, in the wilderness, and in the midst of warfare."

"three days at sea and we were all over the excitement of embarking to a unknown land and we were close to a episode of cabin fever, then the unexpected happened. a small bundle of rafts lashed together with cord drifted toward our ship and was manned with a rag-tag group of eight men armed with stone tipped spears."
"when they drifted up to the boat, one of them held up his spear and began hollering,
"Surrender. you are doomed.surrender."
"now we all thought that he was sun-struck and bonkers and we told him that he must be mistaken in the fact that he could over run a fully manned ship with only eight men, and we offered to feed them if they surrendered. he only threw his spear at us and continued to babble of our deaths.we couldn't bare to leave these men out at sea a moment longer so we kindly lead them to the brig. none of them ever recovered."

That night had little revelry with those grim words to think about. but once we were on the ships, I was in my element at the prow. the spray on my cheeks and the salt in my hair was as good as any homecoming. I remember every now and then divine overboard when we had a day without wind to see if I could catch any fish with my harpoon. sometimes I speared a salmon on the first few days when we were near shore. unfortunately, some people didn't agree with the sea. You could probably see Drogan(now known as Gan) chucking at the gunwales.

Well here we are again, "Superbowl weekend". And the question "who will win the Superbowl?" comes by and is heard again from last year. What I wonder is why some people get so pumped up about people with shoulder-pads and face-guards running into each other chasing a ball of inflated pig flesh? they're half blind with adrenaline on the field and chugging "Gatorade" instead of water to stay hydrated, yet we cheer for one over the other. My statistics are...

1) 20% of Superbowl watchers are there to have a reason to yell indoors.

2)15% are there because their friends are there(And hold the remote.)

3)20% to see the rest of their extended family.

4) and 45% of them are in for the commercials.

If you have any opinions, feel free to post them. ;)

"There was hardly a person in the tavern who could not sympathize with Drim and all of us were not the intended target of his burning rage toward the spwn.
"the day before embarking to the Blistering Land of the sand people and spwn, we were taken to a large hall full of other people going to the same war as we. on the stage up front was a gigantic figure that rivaled Grban( or Jorric as we had nicknamed him.) in height and looked every inch a warlord as the styles he had adopted. when the crowd went silent he began to speak out to us.
"You may come to know me as commander Grantonn or as a friend. In this war that we are about to take part in, many expect to grow rich in glory as a hero. the truth of the war is that many of you will not come back home. and most that do may be maimed or in a bag. there is a stand out side this building where you can drop out of the army if you are afraid. many of you will go to that stand and I won't blame you. nightmares lie beyond the sea as well wonders. GRONKAR'S TEETH! does any one know what a gnoll is because I don't. now don't answer that, because what you do know may be highly exaggerated and far-fetched. what we do know is that if we go, there will be one less spwn to terrorize the innocent or kill the weak. we are here on a crusade or purging might and those people who go will be proud that they fought in the war and saved what lives they could. tomorrow there will be no going back on those ships. once on board, you will be headed for war against the dark souls of the enemy after months of training upon disembarkment at port Teir. now enjoy your selves before the morning comes and sleep well."

"When we were waiting for the weather to clear up in a road side taven, Drimmeir told us about his life.
"Drimmeir was raised on a mountain ranch by his parents until he was ten years old. with some discussion with his parents, he was sent off to a militarily school to serve his home land with a will. During his graduation ceremony, he got word that his mother had died of sickness and left immediately to attend the burial. since then he had been serving in his country's army until he was told that his father had passed away in his sleep.
"Drimmeir went out like a bag of roots and woke up in the infirmary. the next night he snuck out to head home to bury his father and run the farm. when he got there it was over run with more Fellspwn that you could shake a stick at. since then, Drim had been hunting Spwn night and day and serving as a military officer in every odd war. when he heard of the new war against the Darkplain, he was first in line to brain the recruiter till he signed his name for military service in the war.

"Later, as I traveled to the departure point, I made friends with some veteran soldiers."
"Grban (gear-BAN)(back) was a ForgeMaster and quite literally 'war-forged'. He was immensely strong as well as tall. And it seemed that there was nothing that he could not bludgeon through."
"Then there was Drimmeir(Drim- EAR)(front). a expert sharp-shooter and a master at stealth watching. He never left his room without his custom silver revolving .6 SMW sm(Standard Metal Weight Small) Peltpierce, Surfyre(gun in right hand)."

"now, as a young person, the first thing I did after signing up was make friends with other participants."
"one of the friends I made was Drogan(drO-gan) (on the left), was a warrior of several heritages but amazingly wise for a man valued for his knowledge in explosives."
"Kratorna(mortan on the right)(we all called him Torma) another was friend I made and you always could find him in battle by running torward the flying bodies of enemies tossed by his great hammer, and his hot tempered howls of fury."

"We'll talk about that later." Jagg replied flatly.
"now, when I was a young lad, I decided to join the war. I was young and without much common sense to comprehend the dangers of combat. after several years of strange, out of the mind misadventures, I believe that if I knew that all of what i am to tell you i would have fainted at the stand.

It's Christmas once again and here we are to celebrate. In the story of the Nativity, three magi from the known corners of the world, Asia, Europe, and Africa came to give gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, worthy of a king, to a newborn child, baby Jesus. He didn't deserve these presents. he was gust there and was given gifts. Christmas is like that also. It doesn't matter whether or not some one deserves presents this year, it's about sharing and caring with your friends and family and forgetting grudges. celebrate this holiday with a smile for every one no matter what the said or did earlier this year, just be the best person you can this season. Merry Christmas blogsters every where.(Bonus points if you notice a five preview characters in the tree.)

"You were in the Dessert Wars?" To'mec said astonished.
"well seeing that your now know my secret I may as well tell my story."
"that must mean you're..." Moiraine said.
"86 years old." Jagg finished. "and still jumpin'."
"that means you survived three plagues." To'mec added.

When they got inside the house, Jagg went over to a small pile of things after he took off his packs and dug out a small oil lamp and lit it with a small dancing flame that shed light on the interior of the house.
"I'm sorry," Jagg said. "but this small lamp is all I have to light the house."
"I doesn't matter Jagg." Moiraine assured him, sitting down. "just to guests is an honor enough."
"I myself," To'mec began. "truly don't feel like eating so early in the afternoon. I'm just so egar to here the story of your life."
"Well, fighting in the Dessert Wars isn't what I though it was."

"These flowers are so beautiful." Moiraine said, gently tilting a rose-like flower with her hand.
"Yeah," To'mec agreed. "but you'd probably get sick if you touch them without a prescription."
"Eek!"Moiraine piped, drawing her hand away from the petals of the flower.
Jagg gave a goodhearted chuckle, " I used to do that to my apprentices all the time."
"You have an apprentice?" To'mec asked.
"Well not at the moment." Jagg replied. "most of them only wanted to lean about plants and moved on to universities. only one of them ever became a healer."

Hey there blogsters one and all! We come upon that time of year that borders Autumn and Winter which we celebrate Turkey Day to see friends and family. Not only do we celebrate by gorging ourselves on domesticated turkey, but we constantly fight over the legs of this roasted beast. ;) (any complaints on my hedgehog, YOU try and find a "hedgehog" brick in your "LEGO" collection.)

"It sounds like you have quite a story to tell, Jagg." Moiraine commented, eager to here an epic of their new friends life.
"Not until we reach my house, friend." Jagg replied. "around here, stories are to be told under a roof and only under a roof."
So they continued walking for a little more than half an hour without talking until the came to the other side of a hill. what To'mec and Moiraine saw on the other side was a small house, made of giant leaves like the houses of the jungle tribe mortans. out side there was a small garden box with several herbs next to a potted plant and a small shrub withe gray flowers and yellow fruit that gave off a tropical smell.

Jagg did not talk for a long time as they continued to walk to his house. after several minutes he finally started to talk again.
"Yes," Jagg said, a strange shadow cast over his face."I once answered the call of war. I once trod to the beat of the Hel-Borne drum. With this sickle, I killed countless men when all I wished to do was heal comrades how were hopelessly doomed to die for a greater good none of us knew."

"And what would you guess upon to say what I did during a past period?" Jagg asked, surprised mildly.
"Well first of all," To'mec began. "your sickle, I doubt that a farmer would embellish a tool with a light crystal."
"and the way you walk. you seem to step in time to a long silenced flute or drum with a bit of added pride when one walks among an army."