Fun Friday Facts: 24 February 2017!

Happy Friday, everybody! It’s the final Friday of February of 2017; yes, an ‘offical’ one would be if the last day of the month fell on a Friday, but I’m not as anal about such things as others are, LOL! Anyway, I figured that my “five fun facts” would relate to unique household items that a lot of people wouldn’t normally see in the homes of friends or acquaintances. I was inspired to do this by the recent addition of player housing to The Elder Scrolls Online, and I’m celebrating the purchase of my first “staple” home in-game. Good excuse to talk about home décor, no? I listed these items in the order they were acquired, just for the heck of it!

1. I have a lava lamp, which I purchased in Seattle in 1998. It has travelled with me from Washington state, to Oregon, and back again. I like lava lamps…they’re pretty nifty!

2. I have a globe, a gift from a family member and received in 1999. It’s very nice, mounted on a hardwood stand with a wheeled base. It once belonged to the California State University in Sacramento, according to one of three labels stamped on it. It has a date of 1915 etched into it as well.

3. An antique typewriter graces one desk in my writing room. It is a manual, Royal typewriter of 1930s vintage, and I use it to type out rough drafts of my book chapters. It was a surprise gift from my husband a couple of years ago – he just brought it in one day after running errands. He knew that I’d been looking for one…it made my day when he carried it in the house!

4. A seven-foot tall grandfather clock catches your eye when you first walk into our living room. It is a Trend model, which used to be made by the Sligh clock company, but has long since been discontinued. It is quite stately, with a glass-paneled wood casing and brass hardware. I’d venture to guess that it has more moving parts than the exercise machine does! The clock is our engagement present to each other, since we both saw it at the same time and made the joint decision to buy it. We call it our “engagement ring,” as it rings out every 15 minutes and chimes the hours. It’s definitely a source of pride!

5. Last but not least, the Marcy home gym. I’ve been wanting a universal exercise machine for years, as circuit-training has always been an important part of my workout regimen. I finally have one of my own – no more dealing with questionable fitness centers or sketchy, so-called “personal trainers!”

Some Sunday Scenery & Songs!!!

I’m getting ready to watch “The Battle of Five Armies” – finally! I figured this post was worth a re-blog, since I’m feeling lazy. Enjoy!

😎

Random Ramblings; Myriad Musings

’tis blustery today – the power and interwebz are flickering intermittently! I figured I’d do a quick post of some recent in-game scenery, at the very least…but, I keep getting interrupted when I try to read various blogs, so I am reading them via my ‘phablet.’ Doing so prevents me from using a ‘Like’ button, so don’t think that you’re forgotten! I swear, some people are demanding and think that if you miss reading them once, that you’ve abandoned them – and that isn’t the case. Drama queens (and kings) of that nature are definitely not worth the time and effort…and you can bet that I’m nothing like that. I understand that real life issues get in the way, and people return when (and if) they can. If not…c’est la vie, non?
😉

View original post

Sunday Scenery…And a Bit o’ Silliness!

This was worth a re-post, with a bit of edu-ma-cation tossed into the mix. Also, be sure to check out my Twitch channel for live-streamed broadcasts of my gaming sessions…enjoy!

😎

Random Ramblings; Myriad Musings

I was doing some tests with my new computer, seeing how well it handles my hard-core gaming needs, and I finally got it to crash! No, I didn’t kill it, but I have gotten it to completely freeze up where it required a “forced hard reboot,” which sounds worse than it actually is. I’m so hard on equipment…I demand far more of things that I own than people – but, I also have high expectations of myself, and expect things that I purchase to function to their maximum capability…and beyond!

I was successful with recording a gaming session, but only once – I didn’t download the clip because there wasn’t anything worth saving in it, LOL – but broadcasting a live gaming session caused a “freezing-crash,” multiple times, after about one minute. Either my video settings are too high, or I haven’t located where to adjust them – or, its…

View original post 52 more words

Saturday Screen-Shots; Streaming Schedule!

My performance tests are complete – all systems are go! There are some minor glitches still holding up YouTube uploads, but everything else is running like clockwork and functioning as it should. I can now post a schedule for my gaming broadcasts, if any of you are interested in watching some real-time, live gameplay! I’ve even provided a survey if anyone has any suggestions or comments. The survey will be up for a week; the comments for this post will automatically close after two weeks.

For now, here are a few of my favourite past screen-shots from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, and The Elder Scrolls Online. More gaming action will be streamed within an hour of this post’s publishing…please tune in and check it out!

😎

Blood-covered statue

Goddess of dusk & dawn

Two moons

Beautiful aurorae

Dragon-rider

Surrounding a scroll

Outside the fortress walls

Relaxing in the bath-house

Underground refuge

Majestic statue

Testing Time: Computer Performance!

Well, I’ve had my computer hooked up for about a week, and it seems to be running quite smoothly – so, it’s time to put it through some strenuous paces! I need to figure out how to utilize the recording / broadcasting program that came with the new GPU, and it is quite a bit different from the one that I used with the AMD video card. Yay – I get to learn something new! Once I get that nailed down, I’ll finally start learning how to create music videos on YouTube and create a few of my own. That might lead to doing the odd vlog post here and there; it’s about time that I jumped in that pool, LOL

While I get familiar with the GeForce(R) Experience(TM), settle in and enjoy these vintage clips of my Elder Scrolls Online in-game footage! Quite a bit has changed since I uploaded these videos many moons ago, so I apologize for the poor quality. It will be nice to compare these clips with the new ones which will be posted…eventually!

This first clip shows the defense of a keep, which I “claimed” for my guild, then a subsequent bridge battle – and, ending with a lovely loading-screen of eternity!

This second one shows the completion of one of many in-game storylines. I titled it “Kingslayer,” for lack of any better description!

Finally, my favourite clip – collecting a battlefield bounty!

Excerpt: Decision Time

* AUTHOR’S NOTE: Another out-of-sequence excerpt from my fictional short-story…the editing is much more fun than the NaNoWriMo daily word-count grind was!

Sepultur’a walks across the cobbled bridge towards the tavern. It is still early enough that the marketplace is bustling with shoppers, so the tavern is virtually empty when she walks in. She was expected, though; Evesori is sitting at a table near the fireplace, along with the guild-leader and a young man who is deep in conversation with the guild-leader. Evesori is wearing tight breeches, thigh-high leather riding boots, and a corseted top with short, ruffled sleeves and a halter-styled, linen bodice with a lacy décolletage. As usual, her breasts seem to be in danger of over-spilling the low-cut top – Sepultur’a wonders if Evesori uses some sort of small magic spell to keep her clothes on. The guild-leader is wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath. The shirt has a ruffled collar, fastened with a small ruby brooch. His face is uncovered and he sips a deep red wine from a golden goblet. His hair is brown and cut in a style that Sepultur’a associates with soldiers and the military. His face is thin and clean-shaven, with a mildly vulpine appearance, but he is not unattractive. His eyes are still intensely piercing, although a bit less so since his full countenance is finally visible. Sepultur’a figures that the cowl he was wearing when she first saw him simply made his gaze far more distinct than normal. She takes a relaxing breath, smiles, and approaches their table. A fourth chair stands empty, as if waiting for her. She walks a bit closer, then stands quietly and waits. The guild-leader is just finishing his conversation with the young man, who is wearing the rough sack-cloth garb of the village-folk. Sepultur’a notes the young man’s form as he stands, shaking hands with the guild-leader. This other recruit has the tall, muscular build of a wood-hewer, quite similar to Endymion’s.

“Well then, Theo – it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance! Welcome to our little family,” the guild-leader is saying as he shakes the young man’s hand. “Please be sure to visit the bank as soon as you can, and let the moneylender know that you have joined our ranks. They will provide you with a small sum of money from our coffers, as well as the tabard that you will be expected to wear at our formal gatherings. You will be notified beforehand which meetings are formal and which are not.” Theo grins and salutes smartly. “Aye, sir – hail and well met! ‘tis a right pleasure to have made your acquaintance. Me da’ will be happy to hear of this development. This oafish son of his will make him proud, yet!” The guild-leader sees Sepultur’a standing there and waves her closer. “Ah – here is another one. I hope that she brings good news, as well?” He gestures to the empty chair, bidding her to sit as he turns to Evesori. “Evie, my dear…would you kindly escort young Theo to the bank and assist him?” He drops a wink. “We wouldn’t want him to be wearing the wrong colours now, would we?” Evesori jumps up and links her arm with Theo’s, pressing close to him. Theo’s eyes widen at the generous view this provides, and grins a bit foolishly as she steers him to the door. “As you wish, milord,” she purrs as she leaves, dropping a similar wink at Sepultur’a as she passes.

Sepultur’a smiles, a bit hesitantly, then sits down in the chair indicated by the guild-leader. He sips his drink, then looks at her expectantly. “Well, seeing you return is most welcome. Please, don’t keep me in suspense – have you come to join our family?” He smiles in a friendly manner, eyes crinkling pleasantly at the corners. Sepultur’a smiles in return, choosing her words carefully. “Well, I had a couple of questions to ask of you, before I render my decision…if that is acceptable with you, that is?” She hesitates, then finishes: “I don’t mean any disrespect, nor am I trying to pry into affairs which are none of my business, but I need a few, minor things clarified.” She presses her hands together, almost in supplication, as she says this – it is something that she has done since she was a small child, and is an unconscious action on her part. He beams broadly, noting her gesture and chuckling to himself as he answers her aloud. “I would question your intellect if you didn’t have questions,” he replies easily. “People who ask questions tend to be smarter than most, and those who would join a group without question are those that don’t stay around long.” He takes another sip of his drink, savoring it. “Ask your questions, please,” he says, fixing his penetrating gaze on her. “I will answer them to the best of my ability.”

Sepultur’a takes a breath, clearing her thoughts, then presses forth. “Well, first of all – I have to ask, is your guild based here, in this town or this land? I have familial obligations back in my homeland, and wouldn’t be able to relocate here permanently.” She smiles almost apologetically. “Any guild that I join would have to allow me that freedom – I hope that is understandable.” He sips at his drink as she speaks, eyes half-closed as he listens. “That is an excellent question, and one that I don’t think anyone has posed to me before.” He opens his eyes, peering at her as if seeing her clearly for the first time. A gentler smile curves his thin lips. “Family ties and obligations are things that most people seem to run from – at least, in my experience.” He sets his drink down and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You have nothing to fear, milady,” he states firmly. “If you already have a permanent home, then you will always be free to return to it whenever you need to. Just know that loyalty to your guild-family is expected – if any of your guild-brothers or -sisters are in need of your help, and your blood-family needs it not, then be prepared to defend the guild as you would your own kin.” He takes up his drink once more. “Of course, if your kin need you before we do, then there would be no question that you should return home and see to their health and well-being.” He smiles at her again, then sips from the cup. “Priorities must always be met,” he finishes.

Sepultur’a is pleased by this, and can barely contain her joy. Her head whirls; could it really be so easy? The other questions she had thought to be important seem to fade from her thoughts. She beams happily as she says, “Well, then; I confess that is the sole question of concern which needed to be asked. I must confess; If you had responded negatively, then I would have gracefully and respectfully declined your honourable invitation. As it stands, I see no reason why I shouldn’t accept, so…” she proffers her hand to shake his and solidify her acceptance. He looks at her hand, then sets his drink down and stands, staring at her with an inscrutable expression. He moves quickly to her side, kneeling and taking her hand in both of his, kissing it softly and lightly stroking her fingers with one of his. “You are no coarse lad, milady…a mere handshake isn’t sufficient for one of your grace, beauty, and gentle nature.” He gazes into her eyes with that same mysterious expression. “You are a lady of refinement who seeks to find herself. Our guild, our family, will help you.” He stands, gently guiding her to her feet as well, and bows low before her. “Welcome to our little family, milady. It is an honour to have you join us.” He releases her hand and bids her sit again, but it is she who bows low to him. “I thank you, many times over. This means a great deal to me,” she says. “However, I do have an obligation to fulfil on the morrow, and hope that it doesn’t interfere with any…family business. Guild-family, of course – not my blood-kin.” He smiles and reseats himself, gesturing for her to continue. She sits as well. “I have to enter a lair of spiders. It is far underground, just on the edge of the swamps of the lizard-folk to the far south.” She waits for a response. When he doesn’t speak, she presses on. “I had joined a guild of adventurers just yesterday; they extended their invitation before I met your…family, and didn’t expect that you would recruit me as well. There isn’t an issue with me belonging to another guild alongside of yours, is there?” Realizing that this is one of the other questions she had meant to ask, she looks at him, a worried expression crossing her face in spite of herself. He smiles reassuringly. “Not at all, milady, not at all…in fact, I might know of this spider-den that you mention. I just might have braved it myself, in the not-too-distant past, and…” he pulls a bit of folded parchment from a hidden pocket of his suit-jacket and sets it on the table. “…and, I just might have drawn a map of it so that I wouldn’t get lost in there, on the off-chance that I would have need to return to it.” His smile widens, exposing shockingly white teeth. “There are many fabled treasures there, ripe for the taking – and there is more than enough for any and all adventurers who brave its depths. If you need our help there, you have only to ask.” He takes up his cup again, draining the last bit of drink from it.

Sepultur’a sits quietly for a moment, not daring to speak. She can’t believe her good fortune – acceptance in not one, but two guilds! She now has the chance to prove herself to her family and make a name for herself. A chance to mold herself into the type of woman that would make Endymion proud. She smiles, her eyes shining softly in the light from the fireplace. “Thank you,” she says fervently. “I will do all that I can to do the family proud.” He looks at her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I have a question or two that I would ask of you,” he states, waving at the bartender and indicating that he would like two drinks to be served. Sepultur’a raises her eyebrows, surprised that he would be interested in anything about her. He leans forward in a conspiratorial manner. “I don’t know your name – and you haven’t asked mine. How did we manage to forget that little formality, I wonder?” His eyes bore into hers again. “I…I’m sorry – I didn’t even think to ask; I didn’t think that it was my place to do so,” she stammers, embarrassed at her lapse of courtesy. “Please forgive my forgetfulness!” She stands and bows low again, speaking as she does so. “I am called Sepultur’a by my family and friends,” she states. “How should I address you?” she inquires, not certain if calling him “milord” would be sufficient or even acceptable. Only Evesori appears to refer to him in that manner, from what Sepultur’a has observed thus far. He smiles at her, easing her worry. “Please – call me Draven. Lord Draven or Master Draven is acceptable during formal gatherings…but still a bit fussy for my tastes.” He shrugs, almost apologetically. “We aren’t stuck on many formalities, but some ceremonies and gatherings require it.” Sepultur’a sighs quietly and relaxes, glad that she didn’t offend him. The serving-girl comes over to the table, carrying a tray that bears two wine-glasses and an iridescent pitcher. She sets the glasses on the table, then pours a bit of mead into each glass, filling them halfway. She sets the pitcher on the table, then curtsies and leaves after accepting a bit of coin from Draven. Draven takes one of the glasses and offers it to Sepultur’a, who accepts it with a smile. He takes up the other and raises it to her, lightly touching the edge of his glass with her own. “A small toast to you, Sepultur’a – I say again, welcome!” He takes a small sip, and she does the same. The drink is a sweet mead that she doesn’t think that she’s tasted before, so she sips again, letting the flavor run across her tongue. He watches her intently as she does this, a mysterious smile playing across his lips.

Another question pops into her head, and she is asking it before she has time to think about it. “Speaking of ceremonies – is there some formal ceremony that takes place for those of us who are new recruits? I’ve always wondered what a guild initiation is like.” He smiles at her eagerness. “Indeed, there is,” he says, draining his glass and then refilling it, and pouring a bit more into Sepultur’a’s glass as well. Taking up the glass again, he swirls the mead slightly, then sips again. “But, that won’t take place for another two weeks. You will get a formal invitation within the next few days, and Evesori or another member of the family will assist you with procuring a tabard – but it is late, so that can wait. In fact,” he continues, “You can get a tabard after you receive your formal invitation. Since you have an underground adventure ahead of you, we might as well wait and see if you are successful with it first!” He toasts her again, fixing her with another direct stare. “I’m certain that you will have no troubles, though…” he trails off, his eyes scanning her face. “You seem to be a lady who can handle herself quite capably.” He looks down into his glass. “I haven’t encountered a personality as quietly formidable as yours for quite some time,” he muses, more to himself than aloud.

A few hours later, Draven gallantly escorts a very tipsy Sepultur’a back to Ingvar’s inn. Evesori watches him with narrowed eyes as he leaves the tavern with the new recruit. Her annoyance is palpable, even though she says nothing aloud to the others at her table. She merely scowls momentarily, drains her mug of ale and calls for another, then leans up against Theo and strokes his burly chest, nestling her head against his shoulder. Theo is halfway to drunk himself, but not blindly so. He stares down Evesori’s gaping blouse, enjoying the generous view she is providing him. That view is apparent to anyone and everyone who walks past their table, but Theo doesn’t give two shits about it. He is happy to have her hanging on him while the guild-master tends to the other new recruit…

Midweek Montage…In-Game Scenery!

I’m getting ready to finally hook up my computer and run it through its paces…I think that I’ve procrastinated long enough! In the meantime, please enjoy this mid-week montage of in-game scenery. Later, ‘gators!

😎

Sword-play is hard on the manicure…

Standing in the Thieves’ Refuge

Seems to fit properly…

Appraising her appearance

A sip of wine…

Playing with fire

A proper impaling

Glorious crimson decorations…

…lining both sides of the cave

A new memento

The Litany of Blood, fulfilled!

Excerpt: The Entertainer

*** Author’s Note: These excerpts aren’t in chronological order, in case you’re trying to follow the story-line…I’m just posting some of the revisions I’ve made since NaNoWriMo ended! It helps me with the editing.

Sepultur’a sits at a small vanity, holding a mudcrab-shell powder-case, eyeing her reflection in the tiny mirror. She touches the puff to her nose and cheeks, delicately removing any gleam of sweat or oil. Her eyes are accented by black liner, while her lips look full and pouting with a glistening rouge applied to them. A beaten-silver collar adorns her neck, matching the tiara that holds back her hair from her face. She is clad in a harem-outfit of diaphanous, iridescent material; the hue mimics the shifting colours on the wings of a butterfly she had seen in the manor garden at home.

Cuffs of silver clasp her biceps and wrists, and belled anklets adorn her slender ankles. Bangles and baubles accentuate the slim girdle encasing her waist, and matching beads have been threaded intricately throughout her braided hair, cleverly attaching to the tiara and weaving a gleaming pattern that is caught by the firelight.

Taking a final, appraising look at her appearance, she closes the powder-case and sets it aside. She stands gracefully and stretches, loosening her muscles and relieving any final tension. This will be her first performance, and she is incredibly nervous. She won’t be performing solo, over which she feels great relief, but the attending crowd will be larger than any she has seen to date. The crowd will mainly consist of soldiers, as well: most of whom are battle-hardened, grown men.

She wanders to the privacy curtain and peeks out at the stage and the gathering people milling about beyond. Onstage, a jester in a jaunty hat and a brightly-coloured outfit is juggling knives. Out in the audience, two serving-girls make their way through the throng and top off empty tankards with sweet mead or foamy ale wherever needed.

She backs away from the curtain and moves to a small table lined with snacks for the performers. A stout keg rests next to the table – they have been given excellent refreshments, here; the soldiers have spared no expense for this night of respite. Succulent cuts of meat, fresh bread, aged cheeses, and ripe local fruits have been served. The keg is filled with the best mead in the lands, shipped directly from the brewer’s private stock. It has been fermenting slowly for ten years, she’d heard from a couple of the women who had been chatting in the dressing-area, and is rumored to be of fine vintage. The keg will be tapped at the culmination of the performance, and the entertainers will mingle with the audience and serve them the heady brew.

Sepultur’a nibbles on a bit of bread with a slice of meat and cheese folded on top, snacking to ease her anxiety. She tries not to overthink the moves of the sword-dance she will be performing – instead, she visualizes the motions in her mind, feeling her innate fire blossoming in her core. She can conjure flames at will, having learned how to control her inborn gift – and this fire enhances her dancing performance, earning her this place of honour at the center of the stage on this night.

The other performers begin stretching, going through their warm-up exercises as well, and Sepultur’a watches them with a smile, enjoying the camaraderie and easy-going atmosphere of her fellow caravaneers. There is Rocklin, the Nord strong-man, who conjures great balls of stone and hurls them to incredible distances. Shimmer-Scales, the lizard-man sorcerer, who does a fantastic lightning show which has a notable finale: the calling forth of a storm-golem. Tsuri-daro, a lithe cat-woman who is a fantastic contortionist: she bends her supple body into the most unbelievable postures, doing cart-wheels and back-flips, delighting and amazing even the most sour-faced observer.

Last but not least, is Sepultur’a’s tutor: the fire-breathing sword-dancer known only by her stage-name: Flame-Heart. She is a dark elf with a trim, muscular figure, skin the hue of the midnight sky, and blazing red eyes and hair to match. She wears a bra-top and tiny skirt of fine chain, exposing an intricately-designed, full-body tattoo which scrolls and spirals from her neck to her ankles – only her face, hands, and feet are bare of the adorning ink. Her hair is pulled up into a tight, severe ponytail that is wrapped and secured with leather laces. The loose hair of the ponytail flutters about as she goes through her pre-performance exercises. She sees Sepultur’a eating, smiles, and walks over to her protégé and enfolds her in a warm embrace. “Are you ready for this, dear?” She enquires, taking up a slice of meat and nibbling it delicately. “I think that you will do splendidly. Just remember what I said – don’t overthink things. Just move with the music and concentrate on your inner fire, and all will be well.” She smiles encouragingly, nodding at her own words.

Sepultur’a looks down at the filmy material she’s wearing. “I hope that I don’t burn my clothing off!” she laughs. Flame-Heart joins her with her own throaty laughter. She hugs Sepultur’a once more for luck, then meanders off. Flame-Heart always does the finale; her mastery of fire is well-known throughout the land, and she draws a great crowd even in the smallest communities. She never stays with any one caravan for long, nor does she have to – she travels until she runs into a caravan that is heading in whichever direction her heart and whims desire – then she will be off with them; perhaps only for a day or so, perhaps a week, and sometimes two or three months pass by before she is off again.

Sepultur’a checks her reflection in the mirror once more, affixing the veil over her face that completes her costume, then prepares to take the stage. As always, she hopes that there will be at least once man in the audience who reminds her of Endymion. Her performances are much better when she imagines him at the front of the crowd; with a crowd of tall, burly soldiers present, the odds are that much greater. The drums begin their steady beat, and she hears the caravan-master’s loud voice announcing her. Swaying her hips, she sidles through the gap in the curtain, undulating sensually forward. She scans the crowd through slitted eyes as she turns and bends. There – she sees an older man with wild, white hair and war-paint on half of his face. He is standing off to the side, holding a large tankard of ale. His intense blue eyes remind her of Endymion’s, and his tall, sturdy frame is massive in spite of his apparent age. He looks her over appreciatively and moves closer to the stage. He doesn’t move to sit. His armour is a shade of black that she has never seen before, and is a mixture of intricate leatherwork, chain-mail, and tooled plate. His legs are clad in tight leather and fastened with cunning bits of silver. The sleeves of his chain-and-leather jack are short, showing off well-muscled, tattooed arms. More than a few scars are evident on his biceps and forearms.

Sepultur’a smiles under her veil and sways closer. If all goes well, she might earn more coin than usual this evening…his interest is apparent. She is secretly glad that Flame-Heart is the final performer. This man might be here to see Flame-Heart, after all, and any coin that he tips to Sepultur’a will be hard-earned. She hopes that he likes her performance well enough to spend more of his coin on. She relaxes, smiles and breathes a deep calming breath, and allows some of her inner flame to come forth. A ball of fire puffs from her nostrils and floats about her twirling form, orbiting slowly but not so close that her clothes smolder as they did the first few times she’d attempted the trick.

She dances away from the large man, giving her attention to the rest of the crowd, doing a series of back-flips across the stage. The drums keep a steady rhythm for her hips to bounce and roll to; she extends her arms above her head, laces her fingers, and undulates to furious applause and stamping feet. She spins slowly back towards the man with war-paint on his face, sinking to the floor of the stage and writhing sensually, moving her body as she imagines Endymion before her, enraptured and captivated. She conjures a whip of flame and flicks it out, taking the man’s empty tankard from his hands and sending it sailing expertly into the waiting hands of the keg-tender. He fills it and takes it over to the large man, handing it to him with a low bow. “Compliments of the young lady,” says the keg-tender as he returns to his post. The large man looks even more impressed and raises the tankard to Sepultur’a in a toast before taking a healthy swig. He drops her a sly wink – he is very much intrigued by this sultry dancer. His eyes follow her as she completes her performance and skips off the stage. He wants to know who she is…

ESO Fan Fiction: Search For the Sky-Crystals – Part I

Here’s a bit of my fan-fiction, originally posted in 2015. Chronologically, it takes place after the events I’m writing about in my NaNoWriMo short-story.
😎

Random Ramblings; Myriad Musings

Tur’a wakes in the Warrior’s Rest Tavern, yawning and stretching in her bedroll. She has returned to Cyrodiil at the behest of her sister, who left a cryptic message before leaving to roam the desert sands with Dar. The message simply reads: “Remember the Chalamo.” Tur’a is still unfamiliar with the war-torn land, having only recently completing basic training there. She has used the siege machinery at the practice field, but that is a far cry from using them in the heat of battle. Rubbing her eyes, she sits up near the fire-pit. She is clad in a simple tunic and breeches; modesty and practicality dictate sleeping in light clothing, at the very least. She rummages through her bag for a quick meal – she has been cooking more and more for herself, finding hearty soups and stews more to her liking than the sugary-sweet fare her sister used to…

View original post 942 more words

Saturday Screen-Shots: 28 January 2017

Venus & Serena Williams

Here are a few of my in-game screen-shots from the past week. I also wanted to say congratulations to Serena Williams – winner of the Australian Open! Well done and kudos to her sister, Venus, as well…they are both admirable and inspiring!

😎

Looking through the “Bag of Holding”

Striking a pose

Nicely-designed tabards

Mounted up – the horses size to your character

Dancing a jig

A little Tai Chi

Shake that money-maker!

A drink at lakeside

Cheers!

Relaxing at the bath-house

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: