Posts Tagged ‘web comic’
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Her laugh was like sunlight. Her head tilted as she talked, smiling; her arms cradled behind her head in open unabashed comfort. Her legs folded and unfolded themselves as she sat, mid-air, three feet above our somewhat tenuous hold upon terra firma.
“How is this possible?” I exclaimed, my arms gesturing wide to encompass the horizon of floating sky islands. The gesture ended, not too pointedly, at her lithe figure hovering before me.
“Lindenium.” She replied matter-of-fact. “It runs through every atom of our existence here, from the rocks that we stand on, to the color of our sky. With it we can breath underwater, fly at will, or instantly transport our souls from one point on a map to another; If that is what our creator wishes.
“A society of floating fatalists?”
Her expression changed slightly. She looked at me through smoky eyes that hid a dark reality behind the graceful curves of her young female form. She shrugged.
“Aren’t we all?” Her smiled returned. “In the end, I am my creator’s avatar.”
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The young wizard threw the oddly shaped dice on the table before him. The sound echoed from the cold stone walls in the dungeon of his parents keep.
Looking at the wizard, The goblin Home-Master smiled. “Your wife’s ‘mow the lawn’ spell succeeds! You lose two time cycles, but gain +5 matrimony experience points.”
“Big freaking woop-dee-do,” the wizard mumbled as he consulted the game tables. “15,000 more points and I might be able to cast an ‘intimate bliss’ spell … like that’s ever going to happen.”
I sat in a chair, inside the great hollowed hall of the elven enclave Kheiblah-Ur, watching drops of rain run intricate interlocking paths down the room’s stained glass windows. Around me, the elven council debated (not for the first, nor the last time,) the ethical ramifications surrounding my travels.
My experience with these selfsame elves in the past, present, and future, have lead me to the following conclusion. Elves will sit in council about almost anything. Since they are practically immortal, they have the time to ensconce themselves for decades; clearing their throats and looking all knowing, without the bothersome worry of ever having to come to any real conclusion.
If it weren’t for their chocolate covered baked goods, their pretentious, meddling, interloper nature would be practically intolerable.
Tendrils of smoke, and steam rose from the mechanical beast like fingers grasping for life. The inventor’s daughter climbed the ladder, pulled out a wrench, and twisted her weight against a bolt. A dull, ominous, echoing groan reverberated within.
“What is it?” I asked, while taking a cautionary step backwards.
“He is everything that every man in my life has not been.” She responded coldly. “He is sober, strong in body, gentle in spirit, wise enough to remain silent, and dangerous enough to keep a girl interested.”
She then paused for a moment, as if remembering something important. “Most of all,” She continued, “unlike all other men; he’s infinitely, and deservedly fixable.”
