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  • Originally posted by Grey Mouser
    Ah Lemec, you are a good example to us all - a finished tale, and around 10,000 words as well, no mean task!

    I don't have time to read it all yet but will return later.


    Thanks, Grey Mouser!


    well, it would be more impressive if I just wrote it this week, but this is just a rivision of the story I wrote a few months ago.

    I am eager for you to see my Prototype X submission, but I want to see what Perdix has to say about it before I post it. In the meantime, when I am filling this one in off-forum and expanding my Assembly of Conquest (that you had
    kindly mentioned), I come up with ideas for a new story or ideas to finish the other things that I have started since visiting the MWM.


    Very cool! Thanks for stopping by!


    -Lemec
    Last edited by lemec; 08-21-2006, 05:57 AM.

    "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
    - Michael Moorcock

    Comment


    • oh, this is the long view, the scanner chopped it a bit.


      There are more lands to the south and across the seas!


      Please let me know what you think of the lay-out, I know the names should be set in there better,haha. I know my artwork needs work too, but this is just there to get the idea out.



      Thanks very much!



      -Lemec





      Last edited by lemec; 08-21-2006, 03:15 AM.

      "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
      - Michael Moorcock

      Comment


      • Originally posted by Morgan Kane
        fine story........ wish to know more about this world of yours .......

        may be a little heavy on magics

        Morgan Kane,

        Please check out my map!

        Each region,city and town has it's own story!

        Now, I just need to write those stories down! (-from out of my head!)


        I hope you will enjoy this while I expand my world!



        -Lemec

        "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
        - Michael Moorcock

        Comment


        • Transplanted-Lemec Junk (story material)

          Hello, some of this was from the PX Forum. Some came from a few pages back. I thought I would post it for those who did not see it before, or for any new members and guests who might be interested in checking it out and leaving comments.

          I plan on expanding all of this some day. I at least, will want to weave it in some of my other projects where it may fit, other stuff, I will have to keep separate.

          Please leave any comments that you might have here in this thread.


          -If you have the time. Anything is helpful. If you are interesting in anything on here,haha.

          (The Enclave helps keep me organized. I'll try not to waste any more space.)





          Thanks!


          --------------------------------------------------------------------------
          'Wreckage of the Ages' -By Lemec on December 1st, 2005.

          (Under 100 word fiction-does not include title.)


          Broken furniture,endless debris.

          Drifting clouds for all to see.

          Doors are barred, the clan was marred.

          And the Kloraghites are on bent knee.

          Radiation on the mist, outer space, the cosmic lakes.

          The stranger and the guest, the warriors fight the rest.

          "Vellahta, my love, I am here for you!" shouted Ensign Barracosth.

          Guided missles shatter lives, gutted men empaled by knives.

          "Tug me free and we shall be,together,once more." lied Vellahta.

          "The Interloper was the cause, he is the who lead the extirpation of the Fanneltroone wives."

          Transient caustically spoke the words as he withered.

          __________________________________________________ _____________________________

          "Expedition" - Unfinished

          The autumn wind is cold this morning. Gold, red and some green leaves

          fall slowly from the trees. Thomas Sylvanlund crouched low beside a birch.

          Small twigs were stuck to his short chestnut hair and beard. His pale skin

          stretched tight against his thin cheeks and his grey eyes peered out from

          beneath bushy brows. A black gelding and rider approached from a weed

          covered hill. The man was dressed in a long tan coat and black shirt with

          scarf. He had a long moustache and red viens distorted his otherwise dark

          blue eyes.

          Mr. Sylvanlund jerked his Model 1861 Colt Navy revolver from the leather

          flap holster that he carried on his right hip. He pushed the muzzle through

          a bush and fired three shots. Smoke billowed from the blued barrel and

          created a thick screen that momentarily blocked out the image of the rider

          falling dead to the high grass. The horse bolted through the nearby corn

          field. Thomas stood up and ran to inspect the corpse. "This one was at the

          battle at Ball's Bluff!" shouted Sylvanlund to a man who was now driving a

          grey covered wagon into the lush area to join his friend. The team master

          is tall, six-foot-four, has green eyes,short raven hair and an even olive

          complexion. His name is Millard Bremhon, a former man of the law,

          soldier and black smith. His current occupation had led him to meet his

          new friend, Thomas, at a Virginian court house one year ago to this day.

          Millard leaped down from the coach board and looked into the dead man's

          face. Disease patterns of yellow and green can be seen just below the

          surface of the man's skin, his beard was showing streakes of white. One

          moment it looked as though the disease was moving or spreading towards

          his cheeks and also to his neck,but it must have been a trick of the light.

          Three clean holes could easily be seen above the man's heart, blood had

          soaked the material. "Nice grouping." stated Bremhon blandly.

          "Thank you Mill.' " replied Thomas in an irritated voice.

          "It's spreading rapidly, it has covered too much ground. Let's get him in

          the back and get out of here." said Millard.

          "Very well, are you sure the animal can't be infected?" asked a worried

          Sylvanlund.

          "Quite certain. We need to get all the bodies back to Lynchburg. We were

          lucky today, this is Private John Honechel, I suspect he was the first

          carrier. He would not have shown the symptoms until about a month ago."

          replied Millard. "We need to get help and make sure there are no others

          who might take the malady further west."

          "What about us?, this makes twenty bandits that we recovered in four

          months time." inquired Thomas.

          "I assure you that we are inoculated." stated Millard as he smiled warmly.

          "As you say." returned Thomas. "I'll keep his ammunition, but we'll take

          his coin back to the judge." He unbuckled the diseased man's wide belt

          and slid the powder horn and a pouch from it's end. There were several

          thirty-six calibur lead balls recovered, but the man's gun was lost in the

          grass somewhere along the trail.

          The companions roughly throw the brigand's carcass into the dilapidated

          wagon bed. They climb aboard themselves and the springs creak loudly.

          Millard started the team of two black mares into action and they soon were

          climbing a steep hill covered with gravel. The sun began to set behind the

          two operatives and Thomas twisted the tiny dial on an oil lamp to make it

          shine brightly. He was not about to be mistaken for the enemy as they

          rode into town, not after this week's difficult and deadly work. His only

          desire now was to be fed,paid and maybe get a shot of whiskey before

          sleeping for about ten hours in a nice hotel.

          Judge G. Henry Loochen stared down at Thomas through his thick square

          glasses.

          "You will go to Perryville!"

          "I won't." said Thomas.

          "It's your job,man! You stood here and took the oath." replied Loochen.

          "General Bragg was forced to withdraw last month! The Union controls Kentucky."

          "The virus is there."

          "Might I suggest you send a regiment with Millard?"

          "I haven't a regiment,I have a handful of conscripts, an old man of the

          law and you two detriments!"

          "I will accept the bounty, but on the condition that I can choose fresh

          horses, supplies and a few luxury items such as jerked beef, Durham

          tobacco and a gallon of whiskey."

          "That I can scrounge for you from what remains in the shops, so we are

          agreed?"

          "Yes Judge." Thomas reluctantly replied. He stood up from his empty stew

          bowl that he had licked clean a moment ago. They had been conversing

          in a back office for the better part of a half hour while Henry searched

          the upper level for outdated surgeon books from somewhere in Europe.

          "I appreciate the meal....and I understand the predicament that you and

          the men have found."

          "Thank you, if the wretched disease doesn't kill off the whole

          Confederacy, we might just have a chance to drive the Lincoln lovers

          into the Atlantic." stated Loochen dryly.

          "Has word reached President Davis on our dilemma?" asked Henry.

          "No, it has not, nor will it, there are those who believe that if he knew, he

          might be Suing for peace by the end of the week in the attempt to gain

          help from the Yankee doctors. That we can not have,

          if we are to survive as an independent nation." replied the judge.

          "I see no other solution, sir. Millard and I will depart as soon as

          everything is ready, and I do mean

          everything this time, I'm not going out in the hills again unprepared." said

          Thomas Sylvanlund.

          "May your journey be productive, for God's sake, we must do something

          while there are still

          inhabitants on this bloody hemisphere." George Henry Loochen responded

          urgently.

          Thomas could only signal his acknowledgement with a sad nod.


          __________________________________________________ ____________________

          A Captain's Thoughts

          by Lemec

          The panel slid open and the man walked into the deckhouse. One look at the orange biodegradable

          interior made his stomach lurch. The contents of the compartment, including the sofa, were edible

          in case of emergency. It, unfortunately gave off a fruity aroma that was very annoying. The man,

          Captain Brenton Sarmhark, removed a tube of grape juice and drank the ten ounces of liquid. He

          then swallowed a food and vitamin capsule. It was going to be another tiresome day of piloting the

          interstellar vessel. He left his home planet behind six months ago and had another two months to

          travel alone to his destination. He was hauling rocket engines to the gelatinous inhabitants of the

          fourth orb in the Mardiaste solar system.

          He deeply regretted the quarrel with his friends about taking this job, for it would keep him in the

          galaxy for three years after this first circuit. He did everything to appease his companions, but his

          words always did more harm than good. Had his mind been scrambled at some point to cause him

          to say things that did not come from his heart and true feelings? Brenton often thought that he has

          been going slowly insane for the last ten years after becoming a certified space captain. Are there

          active powers in the celestial environment that man is not supposed to experience? His insides

          twisted in ways indescribable to other souls. He had great difficulty explaining himself to others

          so, in a way, it was a blessing to have such solitude. He never felt this bad in the forty years of his

          life. When he had Micro-Flu it was not as bad as what he is feeling today. There is nothing

          physically effecting him, but he is pained even worse than when he fought with the horned beasts

          of Tranikore. Why had his luck changed for the negative? Some would say he had been cursed. He

          had great fortune and love a half a year ago , now his life is in shreds. Why?, he thought, because

          he had to make a foolish stand on some political issues and he had to satisfy his own pride and

          enlist in this vocation. He sat down on a monitoring chair and engaged the Tele-Screen. He could

          see the trailing asteroid belt on the control unit. He tried to focus his mind on the current news that

          flashed across his computer, or the many electronic books that he could choose from to alleviate

          his boredom and stress. The emotional pain was incredible. When he was awaking from a slumber

          mode, he often desired to forsake his duties and allow the ship to drift in space to wherever the

          mysterious energies might take it. When he was cognizant, he never wanted to go to sleep. He

          would stay awake for fifty hours at a time on the influence of powerful animal stimulants. He

          feared and dreaded the nightmares brought about by the craft's motion generators.

          He was told that he looked terrible by human standards when he had arrived at his goal and harbor.

          The Mardiaste administrators unloaded the cargo and communicated by using a series of garbles

          and whistles. The beings stood roughly eight feet tall and had a two foot diameter. The people

          were multiple translucent colors, red,green,violet and burgandy. Their semisolid bodies were

          covered in a hundred tiny eyes which hung on long gray vine branches. They are emphatically

          intelligent and sophisticated. They immediately sensed the captain's troubles.

          Five of the creatures surrounded him and embraced him. After a brief protest from Brenton, he

          submitted to their will. They used their elongated membranes to elevate him and carry him to a

          zero gravity zone comprised of various gases known to the sphere. Sarmhark floated in circles and

          began to feel free. His body tingled as his mind started to expand to accept new ideas and

          concepts. Brenton felt calm and relaxed as the five beings sung a melody to him. He was carried

          on currents of oxygen. The gelatine folk spoke to him in unison. 'Bren. Ton. Sarm. Hark. we take

          away your inner pain and longing. In your core you know what must be done. Your training and

          bad experience and traumas have temporarily forced your brain to erect barriers around your heart.

          You friends still love you even if you do not believe it to be true. We have eliminated these walls

          so you can live once more as you should, as nature had programed you to exsist. You solid aliens

          often make problems for yourselves that your minds can't find logical solutions. You must try to

          become more fluid. The human made laws and morals can trap your soul if you are not alert. We

          have evolved past such things, we know how we function in life. We cast aside restrictions and

          have learned how to deal with one another with consideration to our fellows. We have achieved

          total peace.'

          Brenton was aboard the space vessel again after an hour of saying goodbye to the strange and

          helpful beings. He had a clear picture of what he needed to do. He contacted his employer from

          the ship and headed for home. He sent his regrets and apologies to the lady space merchant saying

          that he needed to abandon the mission in favor of an occupation close to his domicile. He now felt

          that he could be loved again so he made the long journey to his planet and visited his family to

          tell of the news. After getting hired to transport clothing and supplies to nearby settlements, he

          took a month to get comfortable in what he was doing. The next thing he did after the return trip

          was to make a surprise visit to all his friends at the local aeronautics festival. They were pleased

          and extremely happy to see him. They were dumbfounded as to the reason why Brenton thought

          that they were all angry with him. The argument that they had was no more than a friendly

          discussion and banter and they wondered all this time why Brenton had taken it the wrong way.

          He explained what he had discovered in the Mardiaste and they just laughed and joked like in the

          old days when they were young teenagers. One said that Sarmhark just needed a slap to the head,

          but what the beings did for him was just as good. When a man starts to get older and is out of his

          chosen surroundings, thought Brenton, he involuntarily changes inside, he will not make that

          mistake again. He will not allow the harshness of the universe to bend him. The reunited

          confederates found a new drinking establishment to meet at every two weeks. Their friendship

          became stronger than it had ever been in the past. They often took jaunts to the Mardiaste system

          when the technology increased so that the trip only now took a quarter of the time. All was right

          once more in the life of Captain Brenton Sarmhark.


          -----------The End-----------------------------------------------------------------


          __________________________________________________ ___________________________


          The Tentative Expedition -By Lemec -Unfinished

          The dark grey platform levitated over the loose black sands of the shore. The sound of the surf reverberates off tall rock spires. Laochet Hoonrey, a short man with a narrow face, operating a digging claw which is mounted on the front control podium. A small dial with a silver needle has fallen into the left margin and a cracking whistle intonation soon followed. The grinding cylinders
          and cogs compressed together with a shriek. The appendage sank into the charcoal ground and when it was withdrawn, a pinkish ore was grasped in the carbon steel talon.

          Four turbines flared and he guided the rostrum to a higher elevation. A triangular panel slip into the open position and the mineral was gently placed in the cavity by a hydraulic arm with six folding magnetic prongs.


          A woman's voice squawked through a circuit device,"That is sufficient! Laochet, you'd better bring the cargo back and lock it down on the base, there is a storm approaching in approximately ten minutes."

          Hoonrey touched the speaker and said,"Don't get excited Marielle. I've already checked the detector, there is no more alloy in this area. I am on my way to the dock."

          "That's good news,but remember last time that you ignored the radar? Your engine failed, the freight was lost and the craft became so clogged with mud and debris that your backup reversed itself and we had to scoop you out of that stinking bog!" replied Marielle who sat on a stool inside a sizeable factory and faced a round reciever attached to a sqaure pumping machine.

          "Right Mari, you're right. I just hate those second trips." stated Laochet. "How is the fluid? Did you get enough liters from Bremijen and Company?"

          "Yes,yes...it's fine,it's all working fine. Don't forget to pull the tarpaulin over the port when you land. Hurry, your food is going to get cold again and I have no way to reheat it now." Marielle said with a hint of agitation in her sharp voice.

          "Bah! I can warm it over the steam intake filter, I make my tea on it all the time!" shouted Mr. Hoonrey over increasing wind.

          "You are hopeless! Why can't I get normal industrial workers on this island?" asked Marielle.

          Laochet did not give an answer as he rested the flat vessel on the fluorescent green surface of the sanctuary that is the "Grand March Mega Association" repository and plant.


          -------------------------------------------------------------------------

          "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
          - Michael Moorcock

          Comment


          • Kudos to you Lemec! I haven't read all the pieces, but from what I have (if you don't mind me saying) I think stylistically they are a better reflection of your talents than the S&S story.

            You have a lot of good material - definitely worth expanding on.
            Last edited by devilchicken; 08-21-2006, 09:37 AM.
            Batman: It's a low neighborhood, full of rumpots. They're used to curious sights, which they attribute to alcoholic delusions.

            Robin: Gosh, drink is sure a filthy thing, isn't it? I'd rather be dead than unable to trust my own eyes!

            Comment


            • Originally posted by devilchicken
              Kudos to you Lemec! I haven't read all the pieces, but from what I have (if you don't mind me saying) I think stylistically they are a better reflection of your talents than the S&S story.

              You have a lot of good material - definitely worth expanding on.

              devilchicken,


              Thanks very much!

              That should be the right path for me.

              I see what you mean, I tend to think of the sword & sorcery as a game.

              -and I put more into the backstory and world than I do to the story and characters. It's weird that I automatically make it read like a manual or a
              Dungeons & Dragons module.

              (it must unconsciously spawn from the days,long ago,when I thought it would
              be so cool, if I could get a job writing source books.)

              "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
              - Michael Moorcock

              Comment


              • Originally posted by lemec
                devilchicken,


                Thanks very much!

                That should be the right path for me.

                I see what you mean, I tend to think of the sword & sorcery as a game.

                -and I put more into the backstory and world than I do to the story and characters. It's weird that I automatically make it read like a manual or a
                Dungeons & Dragons module.

                (it must unconsciously spawn from the days,long ago,when I thought it would
                be so cool, if I could get a job writing source books.)
                Something else that's difficult (and again I can totally relate) is reading so much of a particular genre that it becomes hardwired into your brain. Becomes hard to find new things to write about. I've become more concious of that recently - and have pretty much stopped reading fantasy entire (with the exception of Mike, REH and a very few select others). Trying to broaden my reading horizons I think helps my creativity rather than relying (subconciously) on the work of others.

                And of course there is a lot of good 'non fantasy' literature out there for the taking...

                Really its not all that difficult. Characters always come first - everything else is secondary. The key is to get the character and a conflict going. The story should pretty much get going from that. That's the theory anyway...

                Seriously, its good that you and Mouser are sticking with this - the Enclave has been rather patchy, especially since PX took off (and I've a feeling their tastes are more Jerry Cornelius than Elric).

                Any idea what Azariel's up to? I saw him post a few weeks ago in one of the other forums.
                Batman: It's a low neighborhood, full of rumpots. They're used to curious sights, which they attribute to alcoholic delusions.

                Robin: Gosh, drink is sure a filthy thing, isn't it? I'd rather be dead than unable to trust my own eyes!

                Comment


                • Originally posted by devilchicken
                  Something else that's difficult (and again I can totally relate) is reading so much of a particular genre that it becomes hardwired into your brain. Becomes hard to find new things to write about. I've become more concious of that recently - and have pretty much stopped reading fantasy entire (with the exception of Mike, REH and a very few select others). Trying to broaden my reading horizons I think helps my creativity rather than relying (subconciously) on the work of others.

                  And of course there is a lot of good 'non fantasy' literature out there for the taking...

                  Really its not all that difficult. Characters always come first - everything else is secondary. The key is to get the character and a conflict going. The story should pretty much get going from that. That's the theory anyway...

                  Seriously, its good that you and Mouser are sticking with this - the Enclave has been rather patchy, especially since PX took off (and I've a feeling their tastes are more Jerry Cornelius than Elric).

                  Any idea what Azariel's up to? I saw him post a few weeks ago in one of the other forums.

                  devilchicken,

                  Ya! Thanks!

                  I dd not hear from Az, yet. I am looking forward to his demon sword story.

                  "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                  - Michael Moorcock

                  Comment


                  • Some great ideas and some very effective narrative and dialogue and characters in those extracts Lemec. The switching of tenses can be a little disconcerting in some places, but in others it creates interesting effects (sometimes exactly because it is disconcerting). If you become a little more conscious of the effect the tense shifting has on the narrative, and use it specifically, it could have the mark of an intriguing prose style. Present tense is not often used and tends to draw attention to itself somewhat unless there's a specific reason for it being there. But I can see those sudden tense shifts do have the potential to be put to interesting uses.

                    Comment


                    • Originally posted by Grey Mouser
                      Some great ideas and some very effective narrative and dialogue and characters in those extracts Lemec. The switching of tenses can be a little disconcerting in some places, but in others it creates interesting effects (sometimes exactly because it is disconcerting). If you become a little more conscious of the effect the tense shifting has on the narrative, and use it specifically, it could have the mark of an intriguing prose style. Present tense is not often used and tends to draw attention to itself somewhat unless there's a specific reason for it being there. But I can see those sudden tense shifts do have the potential to be put to interesting uses.

                      Grey Mouser,

                      That is an interesting observation. Very cool that you noticed that. When I read a novel or book, I don't notice how the tense is set up. I would have to pick it up and study it.

                      I wrote it as I imagined the scene,I pretended to see my characters on television or in a movie acting out the part, then I describe, how I see it.

                      -of course, some things I am influenced by other writers, but I make mine as different as possible.

                      Now, that I know I actually write it that way (consciously),hehe, I will make sure I put it to good use!

                      Thanks so much!


                      -Lemec

                      "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                      - Michael Moorcock

                      Comment


                      • Hi Lemec. Once again I see a great imagination at work here, some fine effective description and narrative, some great characters, some nicely observed details both immediate and background that in places really make your world and characters concrete as I read, and a good storyline. There are also 3 problems, two of which I share so I hope I won't sound pompous.

                        1 You need to be clear in your mind who's point of view you are telling each story segment from. Sometimes you switch from 3rd person omniscient to 3rd person and vice versa which tends to create an inconsistant tone. This will also help you to get a feel for what details are appropriate to include from the background material for your world. This is a problem I have myself in the first segment of my own posted story. As with tenses though, once you learn how to get a feel for the effect that switching perspective causes, you can eventually exploit it for your own ends.

                        2 Tenses. In general, it might be handier to stick to the same tense for each segment for the sake of consistency, though as I mentioned in the other thread, once you get a feel for the effect that shifting tenses can cause you might be able to weave it into an interesting prose style.

                        3 Mixing too much background stuff into the narrative at once. If you clarify in your mind no. 1 above, this will really help you sort out the appropriate time to slot background details in, and also how much you can get away with without diffusing the story too much. I've got this problem too, and I feel in my case that it's because I haven't got the no. 1, a strong consistent perspective to tell the story or story segment, worked out in my mind.

                        I mention the above Lemec because in the parts of your tale where the above three problems are not present your stuff is bloody excellent. I loved Deleb's duel with Egestra.

                        PS I've not quite finished reading it all yet.

                        Comment


                        • Hello Grey Mouser!


                          Thanks again! That is very good advice. I also saved that on my notepad, so I can use it as a guide while I create something.

                          That really does help me understand things.


                          -(especially) since my stuff makes sense to me -becuase I worded it that way, to others, they can really see what stands out.

                          I can see how to improve it now.


                          I am really glad that you told me, because, I would just keep doing the same thing and making the same mistakes.

                          Excellent! I feel like I am in writers college!


                          Skal! (cheers!)


                          -Lemec

                          "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                          - Michael Moorcock

                          Comment


                          • Im the same Lemec..I wont be able to finish reading it until the weekend. I think that what I have read so far is excellent. I found that I didnt want to stop reading and miss what was going to happen next. I feel that is the most important prerequisite for any story. You have a wonderful imagination, dont lose heart!

                            Comment


                            • voilodian ghagnasdiak,


                              Thanks very much!




                              -Lemec

                              "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                              - Michael Moorcock

                              Comment


                              • Assembly of Conquest (Extended Edition) by Lemec

                                Assembly of Conquest (Extended Edition-August 2006) by Lemec (J.W.G.) A short story of fiction.

                                Part One:


                                A man dreamed. He dreamed about the unbearable heat. Images flashed in his mind.


                                Weekly nightmares invaded his slumber. Thoughts of his father, who passed away,


                                dominated his time. He was killed in a helicopter accident during NATO operations


                                in Bosnia. Paul did not have a good night sleep since 1995. The ovenlike atmosphere


                                of the room was oppressive.

                                An elongated cart,perverted and wrought with rusted iron, burst into the heavens. Soil,clay and rocks followed on all sides of it. Crude mining equipment littered the landscape. Fog enveloped the land in such a way that it rose to the sky and touched pink tinted clouds.

                                Paul knew it was a dream,a nightmare really, but he did not attempt to wake himself, he wanted to press on as he had this same dream before, but could never push far enough into it to fully understand it's meaning. He virtually floated over the reddish dirt to come to a stop before the cart just in time to see teal coloured manlike animals leap from the two wheeled buggy. They were four feet tall, toothless and wielded short barbed spears with their fur covered arms. They began prodding two men who were in front of them. A long passageway lead to a deep shaft behind the cart. The beasts were chanting 'work,work,work,heave,heave,heave,dig,dig,dig.'

                                The man looked at the two men who were now holding shovels. He then recognized one man as his dead father.

                                "No!" exclaimed the dreaming man. "What is this place?, you are forcing the dead into labor! No, it can't be! damn it,damn you! What is this madness?"

                                'Work! Heave! Dig!'

                                The man then ran headlong into the bizarre beast, breaking one spear, then feeling a sharp pain betwixt his ribs as one of the creatures pierced his side!

                                The image abruptly vanished and the man became wide awake and pumping with adrenalin.

                                --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                The sun rose above the high mountain. Vibrant green deciduous trees cover the countryside. Men and women work with power saws and other tools used for woodcutting, They are constructing a palisade along with extra poles for the north bastion. It is an ongoing project to fully restore the old fort to it's original 1758 design.


                                Linda, a young lady,pushed a wheelbarrow over the thick grass. She removed a box of heavy steel files from it and placed it on the ground beside Richard Gebaur who was doing some axe work on the ends of the logs to form a tapered tip. Linda Anbernen wore her black hair in a long pony tail beneath a forest green baseball cap which reflected her jade coloured eyes. She is dressed in blue jeans and white t-shirt, in fact everyone there is wearing jeans and a simple shirt. Linda stands at five-foot-seven compared to Rich's five-foot-nine. Richard is broad of shoulder and very strong. Linda also has an athletic figure;however, she is quite slender. They have been friends since they met each other at their anthropology class two years ago. Richard's father,Pete,was one of the men selected to oversee the reconstruction of the redoubt from The French And Indian War phase of The Seven Years War. Other men with shovels filled in a narrow trench by one of it's fences.


                                Tourists and some locals went inside some of the already existing buildings. Inside they explored the museum,which was there since the 1960's. They viewed mannequins dressed in British uniforms and some with American garb. The curator placed several artifacts in the tall glass showcases. He fastened a 'Brown Bess' to wall along with a powder horn that had Sterling silver plugs on it's ends. Next,he dusted the ornate silver platters and pitchers. He locked the cabinet that housed them after he thought they were satisfactory.


                                Linda walked through the exhibition and out the back door. Up the hill she went along the concrete path towards a squat structure of timber. Wood boards creaked as she had to walk backwards in order to descend the precipitous stairs. She clung to the polished birtch rail. It was near impossible and very dangerous to attempt to go down those stairs as one would do normaly. Once inside the dark hole,that was actually ,at one time, used as the black powder magazine. She leaned over a red and white Igloo cooler and took out two twelve-ounce plastic bottles of iced tea. Then the woman carried them up the stairs and turned right to run the length of a different trail,that also lead back to the place where Rich smoothed the points on numerous staves.

                                "Here ya go!", exclaimed Linda as she threw a bottle to Richard. Rich caught it easily.

                                "Thanks",Richard said expressing his graditude in the hot sun. He began to drink heartily.

                                "You're welcome sweetie", replied Linda. "What do you want me to do now?'

                                "Can you please help Larry nail those planks together over at the mortar battery." Rich asked.

                                "Sure thing Rich,I bet it will look really nice when it is complete." Linda replied.

                                "Yeah, can't wait to take some photos of the whole place for the new web site." stated Richard.

                                "Will it be done in time for the celebration in October?" inquired Linda.

                                "Oh yeah, the re-enactors already have their equipment ready for the show and the parade. I don't want to disappoint those fellows." he answered. Rich went on to add,"Besides, some of 'em are coming up here tomorrow to help out with the cleaning up of the debris."

                                "That's really wonderful of them," offered Linda "Don't forget, we have that history class to go to on Monday morning."

                                "Alright,I'll be there," replied Richard. "The arts and crafts festival will start at ten o'clock Saturday morning."

                                Larry stepped over and said," I sent Bill over to the hardware store to get some more two-by-fours, the one's I have left are all warped." Larry Lehrer is a fifty-eight year-old bulky man who had a few missing teeth,but that did not prevent him from having a perpetual smile. He has gray hair and gray curly pork chop sideburns. He is wearing a wide work belt that has a hammer, with a rubber handle, in one of the leather loops. "Some of the weather treated wood is all shot to heck too! The dern stuff isn't supposed to bow, but bow she does. I should have known it would never get better, I still have a support beam on my shed that is crooked as a pig's pecker! he emphasized by throwing his burly arms into the air and pointing in the general direction of his house with his stubby thumb.


                                Rich said,"Geesh, ok Larry, I hope they don't overcharge him too much for the lumber. I paid extra last time for the bag of nails.

                                Linda smiled and stated,"I'm ready to help you now Larry, I already dropped off the boxes of nails for the boys at the West wall."

                                "That's good Linda, want to help me put up some paneling in my den when we're finished here?" Larry laughed and Linda giggled.

                                "Sure honey, anytime, I would be happy to help and so would Rich." Linda said to Larry.

                                "Huh?, what?," Richard asked, not really paying attention. He looked away from his work and back to Linda. " Oh , uh...,ya!" " I can join in, maybe have a nice cook-out on the same night, that is if you supply the hot dogs, Larry." Richard smiled a friendly smile,almost turning into a chuckle.

                                "That I will do, and a case of beer to boot," replied Larry, who looked very much like an American Civil War general at that moment when he crossed his arms over his chest.

                                "Super-cool Larry, we'll get together sometime next week, I'll bring Brian along too, if that is alright with ya?"

                                "Fine,fine, just make sure to remind him to park on main street and not in my driveway if he decides to bring his car up here." said Larry,"I'm already lookin' forward to it, it will be fun."

                                "I'll tell him and it will be an excellent night for sure." replied Rich.

                                "Yes Sir,it sure will be nice, and I'll get Heather to bake you all a nice cake." stated Larry. "Pinapple upside-down or maybe a carrot cake. A simple chocolate never fails."

                                "Hmm,yummie,that sounds delicious," said Linda. "I'll bring my Cajun pepper so we can have some hamburgers."


                                "Sure does sound great," echoed Rich. He then swatted a fly from his arm then returned to the sanding and planing of the long pine rods.

                                Larry and Linda picked up five planks each and carried them over to three hollow cavities in the earth. They then hammered some boards together which formed a square base. The work all around the area continued on until dusk that night.


                                At an hour before closing time, A fat man who is wearing a short sleeve cotton shirt with tiny images of deer and leaves blended into it's pattern, paid the entrance fee of seven dollars and entered the museum. He then walked over to the guest book and signed his name on the big paper. He wrote,' Andrew Walder/Visiting From Hayden,Ohio.' He placed the Bic pen back down on the podium and walked over to a large map on the Eastern wall. It was displayed beside a miniature model of the fort. In large print across the top it had written dates on it's surface which indicated,' Built 1758 Decommisioned 1766.' There was also an old painting of the fort itself beside it and next to that there was another map of the grounds, showing a large river that ran directly past the fortification's location in addition to the surrounding forest.


                                The heavy man nodded to himself and walked into an area where they had 18th Century furniture roped off in a side room. 'I remember this well' he thought to himself. The Hermitage room. He took a few more steps and pushed open two metal and glass doors that went outside. As soon as he walked outdoors, Andrew felt a tingling on his right forearm and scratched at it with his left hand. The wind blew his shirt up slightly just then,which revealed his 1903 Colt .32 Auto resting in his leather pancake holster on the left front of his black leather belt. He nonchalantly tugged up his black pants to let his shirt tails fall back over his waist and into place.

                                Andrew then walked on the cement walkway that lead up to a log cabin. Inside he saw two mannequins, one prostrated on a cot, the other adorned with brown hair and a long white apron. It held a physician's saw in it's right plasticine hand. Behind the cot, there was a small wooden table,with a white cloth over it. There were more archaic medical tools on the fabric with simulated blood on them, obviously the surgeon's room.

                                "One foot in the past, one foot in the present, how will the future folk stand here, with their feet planted, looking at an MRI chamber and radiation treatment devices and also shake their heads on how primitive it is?"Andrew stated to himself when there was nobody else in ear shot.

                                Adjacent to that area, there was a barracks set up complete with narrow pallets and musket racks. Someone had activated a circular saw close to Andrew's location and it made him wince because it was abnormally loud.

                                "Good God!" exclaimed Andrew.

                                It soon stopped and the sharp vibrating sound died away. The smell of saw dust was strong in the early evening air. Andrew hiked over to another expanse of grass and found a huge wood and iron gate there.

                                "Impressive," Andrew stated to no one there. He bent close to it's surface and knocked on the thick wood for good luck. A small splinter lodged in his knuckle as a result, but he ignored it. He paced over to a few other cottages, spotting a store house and officer's quarters among them. It started to quiet down outside, so he completed his tour.

                                "No stable," he said to himself in a low voice. He walked to one of the canon ports and admired the view below of the trees and the distant river. "Good ground to have in any century," he commented as a matter-of-fact. He felt proud at that moment. 'What a glorious battle this must have been!'

                                Warfare always brought out the absolute best qualities in humankind. Andrew thought. It also revealed the worst traits in humanity, but for the most part, the good outweighed the evil. He is an optimistic man and he has great faith in people and society.


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                                The sun had begun to drop behind the mountainous horizon. Andew heard the sound of people talking and slamming car doors in the asphalt car park. He turned to see most of the vehicles in the lot pull out onto the main road. When he passed once more through the museum, he just reached his T-bird in time to see a young man and, in his eyes, a pretty girl with a green hat drive away in a blue open-top jeep. He stood there until he watched the small four-wheel drive car turn right and head towards a fancy white-washed gazeebo. Another right turn put them on a road to where there were several two-story brick houses that had huge front yards.

                                Andrew slowly got into his driver's seat and shut the door. He inserted the Ford's key into the ignition and turned it. The car started up. He then placed a second ring of keys into the glove compartment. He flicked the headlights on and put his car in drive. The fat man then released his break and was soon on his way. He made it to the gazeebo,but made a left deviation and headed to the Veterans of Forign Wars club. He made a mental note of a department store on Main Street and thought to go there in the morning before heading to Pittsburgh.

                                He whipped his candy-apple red Thunderbird in park after reaching a parking space. He got out, closed the door but did not lock it, and walked up a short flight of steps to the front door. He tugged on the door knob until he realized he had to push on it, so he did latter and entered into the modest establishment. Smoke filtered from the entryway before the door shut itself.


                                A long bar ran the length of the wall on his right-hand-side, chairs and square tables were on his left and a pool table was straight ahead. In the far right corner,there was a cubby and it had a card table setting there with six chairs. Above the table and attatched to the wall, Andrew beheld a large rectangular picture of the infamous Andersonville Prison.

                                There were only three other patrons at the bar aside from the bartender. Andrew smiled and said,"Hello"then plopped down on a stool. "I'll have a Miller draft please." he stated. He was thinking he wanted a thicker brew like a Murphy's ;however, he also knew that this place did not serve it so he figured he would not act like a jerk and order one or ask for something similar.
                                He kept it easy. The bar keep obliged him and he drank deeply from a curved glass. He would be ready for a second soon. It tasted good since he did not have one for awhile.

                                "Thank You" Andrew said warmly. " How's business?"

                                "Good,good." replied the bartender. "My name is Phil. these are our regular's, George,Matthew and Karl."

                                Andrew raised his glass in salute. "Greetings, I'm Andy," said Mr. Walder. The others raised their glasses in return.

                                "I'll buy the next two rounds."said Andrew.

                                "Here,here," chimed in Matthew,"Nice to meet you friend."

                                "Likewise," said George,

                                "Yup," Karl blurted.

                                "Mighty kind stranger," stated Matthew.

                                The next round came and they all drank heartily.

                                "You'll get popular here right quick sir," said Phil.

                                Andrew laughed,"I imagine so. Keep them comin' Phil."

                                The bartender slid another beer to him.

                                "So...does anyone know when the new editions to the fort will be finished?" inquired Walder.

                                Karl turned and said,"Yes, October 14th is the scheduled day right before the town festival."

                                " Ah, that is good, thank you. I will come back for it if I find myself in the area again."

                                "You should," said Karl. "Lot's of smoke, food and fun! The re-enactors really get into it and they pay close attention to the detail of their costumes. They use real black powder in their flintlocks,they just don't use the balls." He winked at that."That is some smoke screen when they all get done shooting at each other."

                                " I bet." replied Andrew. "I've seen a few reenactments in my time, but they were in Virginia."

                                "Don't forget about all the out of town women." said Matthew with a wink.

                                "What kind of food do you have around here?" asked Andrew.

                                Phil said," Well, you already missed fish night. I can have my wife make you up a turkey,ham and cheese sandwich if you like."

                                "Please do, if it not too much trouble." Andrew replied.

                                "No bother at all friend." said the bartender. "Say, your gold necklace looks like the kind that come from Asia , were you in the service?"

                                "Yes, '68 to '70 in country as it were, got out in '73 after serving stateside for a bit." replied Walder.

                                "All of us here put in our time,of course, George there was in Korea. Chosin Reservoir."

                                George shifted in his stool and said," My part was no big deal, alot of better men than me died there for their country. It is the 'Forgotten War' though. I don't mind for myself, but a little more recognition would be nice for the other men who served and their families. The do have a memorial now in down in D.C. and they finally got around to putting the World War Two memorial there, but Jesus Christ, what were they waiting for? Did they wait for all the vets to kick off to build the damn thing?"

                                "We all agree with you George", said Phil.

                                " I do as well." Andrew quickly added.

                                Phil's wife,Barb, came out of the back and gave the club sandwich to Andrew. "Thank you," he said. "It's nice to make your aquantance."

                                "You're welcome, thank you,"Barb replied with a smile, She then walked away. She knew there will be more customers in about an hour so she hurried back into the kitchen.

                                Andrew took a small bite out of the sandwich. "Very good, my compliments" he stated. It was very good and Andrew should know, he ate many similar sandwiches in his lifetime and he had them from different places all across the country, from truck stops to five-star restaurants.

                                More customers walked in and sat down at tables so Walder remained mostly quiet and continued to eat his dinner. The others increased their conversational activity with their friends.

                                'What do do, what to do' Andrew thought as he chewed his food.

                                He sat in the fraternity for an hour after he ate, then he walked outside on the narrow pathway. He was alone so he meandered over to the retail shops,which were closed for the night. Andrew breathed in the crisp country air and walked back to his car. He felt sober enough to drive.

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                                Hello, I will be posting this story again, one extended part at a time.

                                I hope the rewrite will be an improvement! ;)

                                Please write any comments that you may have about it here. :)


                                Thanks very much!


                                -Lemec
                                Last edited by lemec; 08-24-2006, 12:28 AM.

                                "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                                - Michael Moorcock

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