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Literature
The Golden Guardian
    Lake Elan---the largest body of water in the Forgotten Kingdom and what the capital, Dessar, used as its biggest attraction. Being a large metropolis in the middle of a desert was certainly a challenge, but a large fortress located atop the Great Dune next to a body of fresh water certainly helped them gain prominence. The lake stretched so far over the horizon, many called it a sea. Tourists often wondered where their fresh water came from as there were no mountains or rivers anywhere in the proximity, but those who visited Lake Elan and studied it could quickly surmise the source.
    Today, the sun was beginning to dip toward the western horizon as the athletic golden blonde Nagy Oaxi-Nogl swam her 50th lap along the coast of Dessar. As her synced biomechanical arm and feet propelled her through the last lap, her drenched golden sky-high ponytail waved and bobbed like a flag. Her arms parted the mild current as her body glided across the water in her stylish
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The Crescent Rose by Roy-Flamaku The Crescent Rose :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 0 0
Literature
Loathing Change
    The sun was high in the sky over the desert city of Dessar. While the sand whipped in the air, the city walls and buildings kept the sand from really hindering travel throughout the day. The city sloped up from the lake on the eastern side. The yellow golden horizons were a pleasant sight in tangent with the crystal blue of the lake. Among the red, orange, and yellow draped all around the City of Art, the long, blonde haired Nagy dragged a Lorub corpse to the hunter’s guild.
    Her usual long, flowing blonde hair was tied up with an orange cloth that also absorbed the sweat on her forehead. Her typical orange Gi looked freshly made with a sharper shade of orange and a yellow stripe running along the lapel. The blue belt she had around her waist which she had allowed to flow in the wind freely now was tucked in neatly. She now wore boots made out of a fine golden leather with gold-painted metal plating protecting her toes and ankles. Around her left leg, j
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Literature
Lost, but Not Forgotten
    The dunes of the south were harsh and unforgiving. A day could reach to scorching temperatures that dehydrate even the sturdiest Aneed. Meanwhile the nights could freeze the furriest of Ravage Bears. Tonight, traveling under the veil of night was one little yellow light, tired and poorly equipped. She stood at about 5 foot 4 inches tall, had long, wild blonde hair that flowed down to her wide waist. Her face was thin and malnourished with dry pillowy lips and gorgeous purple eyes. She had hardly anything in terms of protection, and although her Second Skin prevented sunburn, nothing could save her during the cold. Wrapped in her tattered orange gi, her high shorts, and sandals did very little for warmth. Even her bulky, metallic right arm with wires connected directly to her nervous system, could do nothing to help her here. In fact, the metal was just cold to the touch and freezing her chest.
    ‘I don’t know if this has been a blessing or curse
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Gundam Statue by Roy-Flamaku Gundam Statue :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 3 2 Satsuki and Mei's House by Roy-Flamaku Satsuki and Mei's House :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 1 0 Nagoya Castle by Roy-Flamaku Nagoya Castle :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 1 0
Literature
Japanese Speech
皆さん、あなたたちは私の最初の生徒ですが、それが大切なことだと思います
私が最初に言いたいことは、皆さんがいつもすごく優しくて、感謝しているということです。 皆さんと一緒に素晴らしい経験をしたので、私の日本で英語の先生になりたいという夢が膨らみました
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Literature
Perception of Passion
The words that flow into my head are all that of suffering and pain.
Love is but one side of the cruel emotion of passion. When passion begins towards someone, the intense feelings of desire make us gravitate towards. We feel so connected and intertwined that we begin to lose a certain perception of what we are and what we want. All that matters is the other person. Their happiness becomes our greatest asset. It drives us and becomes our reason for living. This passion is not always meant to last.
Love is but the brighter side of the coin of passion. The dark side of passion is hatred. Eventually, our pure positive passion begins to taint with negative feelings. Ill will formed from disagreements with morals and reason. When this negative feeling collects, it influences our passion and turns it ever so slightly into hatred. The feelings begin at a low simmer, but as more negative feelings collect, the feelings begin to boil. Before long, these feelings boil over and someone snaps. How
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The Structure Circle by Roy-Flamaku The Structure Circle :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 1 0 Horray by Roy-Flamaku Horray :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 0 2 Pokemon Trainer Roy- Winter by Roy-Flamaku Pokemon Trainer Roy- Winter :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 3 8 Pokemon Trainer Roy by Roy-Flamaku Pokemon Trainer Roy :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 1 20 Fresh Leeches for Everyone by Roy-Flamaku Fresh Leeches for Everyone :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 2 7 Anime Blues Con 17 by Roy-Flamaku Anime Blues Con 17 :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 0 0 Anime Blues Con 16 by Roy-Flamaku Anime Blues Con 16 :iconroy-flamaku:Roy-Flamaku 0 0

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Activity


    Lake Elan---the largest body of water in the Forgotten Kingdom and what the capital, Dessar, used as its biggest attraction. Being a large metropolis in the middle of a desert was certainly a challenge, but a large fortress located atop the Great Dune next to a body of fresh water certainly helped them gain prominence. The lake stretched so far over the horizon, many called it a sea. Tourists often wondered where their fresh water came from as there were no mountains or rivers anywhere in the proximity, but those who visited Lake Elan and studied it could quickly surmise the source.

    Today, the sun was beginning to dip toward the western horizon as the athletic golden blonde Nagy Oaxi-Nogl swam her 50th lap along the coast of Dessar. As her synced biomechanical arm and feet propelled her through the last lap, her drenched golden sky-high ponytail waved and bobbed like a flag. Her arms parted the mild current as her body glided across the water in her stylish orange one-piece suit, while her legs propelled her meters with every fierce kick. After a solid few minutes, she eventually made her way back to the shoreline. She had left her stuff on the northern side of the commercial area of the coast, close to where the piers and docks jutted out over the crystal blue water.

    As she got to the edge of the pier, she noted her towel and parasol, an ultrathin carbon-fiber rod with a translucent film fanning out from it giving her towel and bag a bit of shade. Nagy grabbed her yellow cover-up skirt and attached it around her waist before taking a seat on her towel and gazing out at the evening horizon. The bright yellow sun was slowly turning a nice golden brown and decorating the sky with a range of warm shades of orange and yellow. The main thing that caught her eye was the tower amidst the horizon.

    The Tower of Life was by far the spectacle that drew attention after the initial feeling of relief long-traveled wanderers often had. A large spire that floated high in the sky towards the center of the lake, the tower would continuously release cascading waterfalls from its base to continuously fill the lake. Expeditions to the tower were made by The Truth, a group of Aeon Priests who studied the ancient tech, the Numenera, of the previous Eight Worlds of Earth. Still, the Tower of Life was just one modern marvel to behold.

    Nagy had asked around quite a bit about the Tower, but few seemed interested in indulging her beyond the notion that it was important and guarded by Dessar for that reason. When she sought out the Truth for more, they gave her a long-winded explanation that she did not quite understand, and was not sure she wanted to.  From what she could gather from their jargon, it was a modern marvel from the Age of the God-Kings that dispensed water. She had also learned that the price of going there without royal approval was severe.

    There was a time when Nagy would see such a line by an Aeon Priest as a challenge and take it upon herself to test it out. As Nagy began to find her mind self-reflecting, she turned to her bag which had her change of clothes. She reached under her newly tanned golden leather pants and grabbed the red cloth tied to her boots. As she unfastened it and re-affixed it to her metallic upper arm, she couldn’t help but think aloud, “I hope you're eating properly. You always got yourself into trouble, and you’re gonna need the energy…”

    Nagy turned back towards the sky and began calculating again. She was getting better at it, now that she was in the habit of it. “1 month, 2 weeks, 3 days, 20 hours…” she concluded. She began to feel the urge again and reached back into her large golden leather bag and pulled out a small, clean canvas and a light rectangular box, about the size of her forearm. She unhooked the latch and folded the top back until it seemingly snapped into place against the other end. Inside was a series of brushes huddled in section with 6 smaller square sections lined next to the brushes. She pressed a button on the side of the box and it began to whir as a flat, clean, white palette extended over the top section. As the sound continued, Nagy extended long metallic spokes from the corners and adjusted them in the sand until it was positioned at the perfect height for her convenience.

    As soon as she had finished adjusting the stand, a little chime went off from the box indicating it was done preparing. She flipped open the tiny boxes to see the freshly mixed primary colors she set as well as an additional tray filled with water for her to reset her brush. She began pulling her primaries onto her palette and mixing the colors she envisioned. As she dipped her brush in the rich red on the palette and brought it up to the canvas, she started reminiscing on her muse.

   ***

   The sun was just lifting over the eastern section of The Great Mesa as a small blonde flame guided a small red wisp through the crowds moving up and down the sections in transit. The small flame stood only a couple inches taller than 4 ft as she guided the smaller black figure with a red wisp trailing behind him. She pulled his arm through the crowds of giants five to six feet tall, as he reluctantly held on.

   “Come on Gavin! We’re gonna be late…” she called out to him, tugging him to help him speed up. She had to give him credit; even though she was quite fast and two years his senior, he could keep pace with her. But Nagy knew he could go faster if he really put his all into it.

   Artesa was a vibrant city built into the largest of mesa in the line that littered the northern and southern horizons. The layers and pathways up the mesa divided the city into districts which each had a distinct look to them with artwork and murals on display for many to see. Aside from being the largest mesa, Artesa’s high city was located literally above the mesa on a free floating structure that had served as a modern marvel to help distinguish it from the rest of the drab landscape.

   Nagy eventually pulled Gavin out of a crowded side street, arriving at the front of their designated primary school. It was a tall building painted a lush yellow with ornate purple floral arrangements carved into the stone of the window sills and railings. Above the large red double door entrance to their school was a sign that read: “High-2B Primary”

   It was considered one of the nicer ones in the upper area of the Mesa. Despite the fact that they lived in the middle districts, Nagy never quite understood why they went to this one instead of the one that was closer to their home. She chose not to question it. It was cleaner and more colorful than the alternative, so she figured that it was for the best.

   “Alright, I think we made it,” she started. “Now we just have to get you to your homeroom and---”

   “I’m fine. I can get there by myself from here,” Gavin interjected as he jerked his arm away from Nagy’s grasp. His voice was cold, and cut deep.

   “N-no! I’m supposed to take you to school and---” she started, her eyes turning red with anger from his tone.

   “You did! I’m here and I can do it by myself! You’re not my mom!” he yelled, before turning and dashing up the stone-cut staircase into the building. The crack in his voice told her he was on the verge of tears.

   Nagy stood there, a little dumbfounded, quite a bit hurt, and angry. She glared after him, her eyes burning red and her hair breaking from the side ponytail she’d made this morning. He was going to pay for that later, and she had a feeling they both knew that.

   When she was sure he was gone, she could feel the tears forming in her eyes, trying to overtake her. She knew she was just as late as Gavin for class, but she couldn’t handle any of that right now. Turning from the entrance to the building, she made her way back down the crowded blue alleyway.

   At first she couldn’t tell where she was going, she just start wandering down the mesa in the direction of home, thinking about Gavin. ‘He’s going to pay for that…’ she thought over and over, her red eyes still fighting the tears that would occasionally spill over.

   After a few minutes of rage filled dashing, she noted an orange cafe with nice wireframe tables on the patio. She recognized this building as the coffee shop dad would drop by on his way back from missions. She looked down the street and noted the light green vendor stall of the crazy old tinkering man that she knew. She knew where she was again, comforted with the familiar colors of familiar streets, and started adjusting her route to get back home. As she wove through some of the side streets, she noted the average looking home built into the side of the mesa, like so many around it. She unlocked the door with the technicolor flower she had drawn on the door when she was younger--from a simpler time.  The small copper handle clicked with the key and she made her way in.

   Their house opened up into a spacious living room that connected to the left with the kitchen. There were two hallways, one that jutted out from the living room and went further back into the Master Bedroom. The other hallway seamlessly formed past the connected kitchen and led to a bathroom with a door on the right side of the hallway leading to a secondary room which Nagy and Gavin shared. Their house wasn’t grand. There was a bland, brown couch with a matching chair adjacent to it in the living room. The kitchen held a nice Oaken table with matching chairs. Nagy remembered being told that had been a present. Aside from the table, most other furniture seemed to match the boring earthen shades of the living room.

   On the counter, Nagy spotted a note that had not been there when she left:

   New Mission came in today. Said it was urgent. Here’s some shins for the week.

   ‘Thanks dad,’ Nagy thought in monotone, taking the pile of shins and heading to her room. She deposited the amount into her sack that she kept locked in a chest just below her bed. She started counting through the amount she had saved up. She had only been gone for maybe an hour when she had taken Gavin to school and come back. Was that really all the time dad needed to come home, get a message, then head out again? She tried not dwell on it too much as she finished counting. She had a few to spare this cycle so she added them to her purse and laced it onto her belt loop.

   After securing the chest, Nagy’s eye caught the nightstand that separated her bed from Gavin’s. Her mind dwelled on an object inside that she always carried with her. She scowled, remembering all the time recently she had forgotten it. How could she could forget such an important part of her? She opened the top drawer of the stand and removed a small, silver sheened box. She quickly opened the box and pocketed its contents. As she made her way towards the door, the precious momento jingled in her pocket lightly with the motion of her leg.

   Nagy exited the house and locked the door behind her. She could feel the heat in her eyes and hair falling back to normal as she began to think about what she was going to do with all her extra free time. She decided to make her way to the market stalls, Gavin’s words still lingering in the back of her head. She loved the vibrant colors of the market. She often had to remind herself not to get distracted by the beautiful reds and yellows contrasted by the sharp blues and greens, so that she could be efficient with her allowance. Even if he could sometimes be a pain, she still had a kid to think about.

   As she began to make her way over to the first stall she frequented, a young lady caught her attention. She was wearing a red dress with a matching bow adorning her long brown hair. “Excuse me little girl, what are you doing out here?” she asked innocently. She was carrying a basket with a colorful variety of flowers.

   Nagy knew she was older but couldn’t tell if she was in her late teens or early 20s. “Umm, just buying some food…” she said nervously. Most strangers just left her alone, so Nagy wasn’t used to being talked to by random passersby.

   “Are your parents around? I can help you find them,” she offered. Her tone seemed pure and Nagy couldn’t sense anything but the best of intentions from her.

   “My parents are . . . gone. I’m buying groceries for the rest of my family today,” she said, opening up a bit more to this cheery young woman.

   “Oh no, that’s so sad. Here you go love, have a flower. Whichever one you want,” the woman said, gesturing to her basket. The flowers there were beautiful, and the vast assortment of shapes and colors made her eyes grow wide.

   Nagy scanned them for a moment--she loved the yellow ones, sunflowers, tulips, and dahlias--until she spotted what she wanted. “Can I have this one, but red?” she asked, pointing to a yellow rose tucked into her basket.

   “Of course, I have some right here,” she said, walking a few feet back to her stall which was covered with a wide array of flowers even more dazzling than her sampling basket. When she returned, she held a single red rose in her hand.

   As the young woman handed it off to Nagy, a thought occurred to her. “How much can this buy me?” she asked, pulling a few shins out.

   The young lady looked over the shins. “More than you need sweetie! What do you want?” she chuckled, grabbing a bag and container for the bouquet she was about to make.

***

   As the sun finished its climb directly overhead, Nagy made her way to the bottom of the mesa, colorful bouquet in hand and a smile back on her face. As she reached the bottom gate, she spotted large man wearing a full glowing plate armor that she recognized. His face was square and rigid which matched his broad shoulders. The runes that adorned his armor glowed a gorgeous shade of orange which always stood to contrast the drab color of her dad’s hunts that she always saw him dragging in.

    Nagy approached him instead of the other guards that stood in front of the gate. “Excuse me,” she called as she approached him. “Did my dad come through here?” she asked, trying to fill her voice with the same innocent tone as the flower girl. She knew that young children were not allowed out in the wastes without permission. Peril ran rampant out there and a children went missing and perished all the time.

    The man’s face perked up and he turned to face her. “Ahhhh… Volk’s daughter, right? Nagy?” he asked.

    “That’s right!” she said proudly. She knew her dad was a well known huntsmen. She had seen a few of the beasts that he brought in. Most were twice the size of normal man and required a few guards to haul to wherever they took them. “He forgot some things and I was hoping to catch him before he gets too far out . . .” she said, gesturing to a freshly bought lunch box wrapped in the cloth Nagy had used for a belt this morning.

    “Hmmm . . .  a little unorthodox,” he stated, looking at her suspiciously. Nagy could feel the lump forming in her throat. She thought she had a pretty good story here. “You should be able to catch up to him if you head around the western side,” he said, signaling to the others to let her pass through.

    Nagy’s smile grew. “Thanks!” she said sweetly, dashing past him and the other guards stationed throughout the line of statues and multi-colored banners that lined the Southern Gate to The Great Mesa.

    “Make sure to head back soon and stay close to the Mesa!” he called out after her, concern somewhat evident in his tone.

    Nagy raised her hand and waved back at him in response as she made her way into the large cavern to the outside. The six statues of the founders lined the walls of the cavern to the entrance, some humbling, some showing proud posture, and some showing fierce strength. Their variety gave an aura of mystery and wonder to the city to see the men, women, and even a child carved so intricately. There was also housing and a few stores that lined the Cavern District between the statues of the founders. Many of the populace were militia, guardsmen, and extended family who formed a community close to the entrance.

    As she reached the end of the extended cavern, she noted the bit of sunlight that shone brightly in. Both ends of the cavern were trafficked by travelers, guards, militia, and bounty hunters who were passing through or stopping in for a nice place to stay. Being centrally located between the four major kingdoms, Artesa always had interesting visitors from all over the world in the Cavern District especially. It was nice place to meet foreigners, but not the best place to be caught in trouble due to the number of militia and guard families living there.

    The barracks and guardhouse flanked her upon her emergence to the Outer Mesa, the courtyard between filled with militia practicing their skills. The sound of loud sparring matches in rings around the barracks filled the air with the soft chatting of guards on the opposite end enjoying their lunch break by the guardhouse.

   The main gate--a massive metal marvel covered in symbols that Nagy swore belonged to a language far gone--could both captivate an artist and intimidate a general by its sheer size and fortification.

   Nagy nodded at one of the guards stationed atop the arch of the main gate like her dad did when they passed through. She could see a raised eyebrow from one of them as they turn back to the guards station for affirmation. She turned her head to follow their gaze, and she saw the guard adorned in shining orange armor at the entrance to the cavern giving an approving signal back to the guards atop the gate.

   She felt a sense of satisfaction from doing this all by herself. She gazed out to the southern horizon, breathing in the euphoria. She was taking life into her own hands for the first time in forever. The landscape before her spread out vast and empty. The ground was firm and hard with a thin coating of desert weeds smattered here and there. The wind whirled to the east with dirt and dust within, tugging at Nagy to follow. Nagy knew the path well. She had visited it a few time with her father, but never alone.

She took her time following the wall of The Great Mesa, stopping only once to enjoy the lunch she used to get her here. As her trek took her in the path of the wind, her hair swirled and flickered like a restless flame against it. Her hand moved down reflexively to her jingling pocket, and she reflexively drew it close to her chest, refusing to give the gusts any chance to rip her memento away.

After about an hour or two of walking, the dirt path that winded around the Mesa started to diverge off into the western horizon. It morphed into a large road that started making its way into the western plains. The hard ground started to give way to more shrubs, allowing some life to flourish. She knew great warriors and mercenaries would often use this road to head between kingdoms. Almost as soon as reached it, she located the small path from her memory: slightly hidden, with only a slight disturbance in the ever-thickening shrubs to serve as a marker. Nagy spotted her destination--- a small stone strine about a few minutes off from the main road--and made a beeline toward it, with increasingly anxious steps.

   The final walk to the shrine was always the longest part. She could feel the weight pulling on her chest, the emotions trying to well over through tears that she didn’t want to shed. She was soon but a few steps away from the statue, its full view on display for the world to honor. A double-bladed scythe--- the blades extending on each end of the shaft and facing opposite each other--- was carved masterfully in stone with a large stone arrow crossing along it in the design of a large “X.” The stone statue was hardly ornate, but still a masterpiece, situated atop a stone slab with a small vase designed into it.

   The soft words she had been taught echoed in her head as she knelt down on one knee before the shrine. The wind slowed down to a light breeze as she knelt, as if it understood the mood. She placed the flowers--- a mixture of white, red, and yellow roses--- in the vase. Now that her arm was free from its load, she lowered her left arm from her chest and opened her hand. A sparkling silver necklace rested in her palm, with a unique sun charm dangling on the end. As she fastened it around her neck, the memories she held continued to flood forth and her tears finally welled over. She looked down as the tears flowed, not wanting to shame the words that she was taught. “Thank you for everything . . . Mom . . .” she recited, trying to sound proud. Her eyes scanned over the engraved slab, taking in the phrase there, over the engraved slab that read:

   “To Serve and Protect what I Cherish, I tenderly Scatter” --- Sol Carmine.

   Her voice was giving her away. She missed every moment Sol wasn’t there, but she knew she had to be strong. Not just for herself, but for everyone in her family that was falling apart around her. Her mother had given her the necklace, not only to remind her how strong she was, but also that when she was at her weakest, her mother would always protect her. Even now, she could feel the same warmth that held her while she was young and afraid radiating from the sun she wore.

   Nagy remembered making the sun charm for her mom. Sol had refused to take it, telling her daughter she was obviously a skilled artist to make something so beautiful. Together, they fashioned it to her necklace, and Sol told her, “I can tell that one day you’ll grow up to be a great artist.” Those words were the only things that guided her passion. Those moments she had designing things with her mom were all she had to cling to when she continued to make new art. She pulled her head back up, the colorful array of roses swaying in the breeze arranged exactly the way she wanted them to be. Yellow for her, red for Gavin, and white for Sol.

   If only she could talk with Sol again. Just for a moment.  But she knew as soon as the thought manifested that it wasn’t possible. She wasn’t spiritual. She had feelings that her mother was still with her, but it was probably just nostalgia, wishful thinking, a child’s prayer. Still, she allowed herself the indulgence just this once, and spoke in her thoughts with her departed idol ‘I . . . just don’t know what to do . . . you told me to protect him. You told me to raise him the best I can . . . but I just don’t know if I’m doing it right anymore . . .’ she thought, the tears continuing to flow as she stared blankly at the double-bladed scythe.

   Her thoughts seeped out through her trembling lips, forming their conclusion, and drifting off: “I just wish I was enough . . .”

   “I think you’ll figure that part out,” a gruff voice answered back.

   Nagy turned toward the voice, startled. To her left, she saw a sturdy six-foot tall man, with a beard and olive-colored skin. His hair was jet black and his eyes were green. He wore a golden-bronze chestplate that seemed heavy while carrying a large round-shield strapped to his left arm. He wielded a short sword that remained in its sheath while carrying a long scythe fastened on his back. His red cape followed with the wind, torn on the edges, brushing over his arms all the way down to his knees. He wore a stern but curious expression that reminded her a lot of her dad’s typical emotionless guise.

    Nagy wasn’t particularly happy with the intrusion on her moment. She turned away, scowling for leaving her feelings out there for anyone to pick up. Nevermind the fact that the road had been empty when she traveled it moments before.

   “It doesn’t matter . . .” she answered coldly, feeling the heat of embarrassment flushing from her cheeks.

   “You shouldn’t do that, you dishonor her . . .” the man corrected, softer this time.

   Nagy turned back, the blush still shining on her face. The warrior had gotten closer to her mother’s grave, a solemn look upon his face as he gazed upon the shrine. He turned and looked back her. “You must hold your stance. Keep your poise strong. The dead are gone, and the living should hold head high. This is how you honor them,” he said, his words reminding her of similar lessons to her mother.

   She corrected her slumped shoulders and put her hand over her heart, grasping her necklace charm with firm strength. She could feel the sun’s warmth bathing her. A reward from mother, or perhaps a reminder, she wasn’t sure. The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Quiet usually unnerved her, but now she could feel the serenity of calm humming throughout her whole body.

   “There you go,” his voice showing a hint of approval. He unstrapped his scythe and shield, letting them rest in front of him as he sat next to her. Up close, she was able to notice a lot more roughness to his features. His head bore scars across his forehead and left cheek, but not nearly as extensive as what she had noted on his arms. Figuring from his stance he was neither a combatant nor a kidnapper, she repositioned herself to sit with him.

“So this is your… ?” he started.

   “Mom,” she stated, her gaze turning briefly back to the mastercraft of the shrine. “She was a great warrior,” she said. “She was from another place, but she was a warrior among warriors.”

   “Hmmm, a Sigmarite?” he guessed, his head lightly cocking to the side.

   “A . . . what?” she asked.

   “A Sigmarite. From the proud Kingdom of Sigmar. We hail from the west and comprise the best glaives of the world in upper ranks,” he said gruffly. The more he spoke, the more she could tell his language was harsh and cut, somewhat foreign, and laced with words a local wouldn’t normally use.

   “The warrior kingdom! Yeah, mom used to tell me about the great warriors on the western sky,” she said. Already her mind was filling with the tales of her youth, Sol’s stories, whispered by glowglobe before bed, when she was sick, when she was sad, when she was happy. They were always amazing, always thrilling and wonderful.

   “See? We’re quite famous for this,” he said, a grin growing on his face in pride.

   “What is a Sigmarite doing on his way to Artesa?” she asked curiously.

   “Can’t tell you,” he answered, shaking his head. “I was sent out on mission to deal with problems in the wastes. It’s not uncommon for a skilled warrior.”

   Nagy pouted, hmph-ing so hard her ponytail bounced. “Are there really such scary things out in the wastes that you can’t tell a kid?” she asked, trying to lure him into an answer.

   “M’girl, there are horrors out there that scare mightiest glaives in Sigmar. Don’t ever forget that,” he warned, in a stern yet protective tone.

   The possibilities swirled in her mind, colors and dangers unimaginable, such that she couldn’t help but prod for more. “Like what?”His brow furrowed, but he eventually looked up at the crystal blue sky, closed his arms and began to ponder. After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath, the wind picking up in tandem.. “There is creature out there who blends in with trees. Its arms twist like branches and you may think its fingers be butterflies. While it is coward, it does not fight with its long, skinny limbs. It has thousands of tiny slugs,” he began, the memory clearly turning his tone cold as he weaved the story.

   “Slugs? That doesn’t sound so bad . . .” she said, her head cocked.

   He turned to her and stared into her eyes, his gaze piercing through her soul, his voice sinister. “They don’t seem so bad, until they crawl upon you in thousands, each trying to burrow in the brain. They eat away your head until they are full, then return to mother to nourish it with stolen intelligence,” he stated.

   Nagy stared on in awe, completely captivated. Leaning forward, eyes wide.

   The sterness in the Sigmarite’s tone didn’t waver. “I’ve seen man who completely lost his brain to one. Had to put him out of misery since he was no longer soldier when we killed it. You should always be careful of the common and question simplest things,” he said, breathing in and letting out a deep sigh as he finished his description.

    A lump caught in her throat, and she gulped hard, struggling immediately to reclaim her cool. “B-but! My Dad could take that thing down, no problem. He’s a huntsmen y’know!” she declared proudly, her confidence reinvigorating her.

   The man chuckled. “Trust me girl. This beast was not something that could be felled by simple hunter,” he snorted.

   Nagy scowled. “Trust me man. My dad isn’t just some “simple hunter.” He’s good. I bet he could even take you on in a fight,” she sneered, rubbing her nose as she jeered at him.

   “Hah, that sounds like nice offer. Afraid I don’t have time at the moment though, but if he was strong enough to handle Sigmarite Gal, then he must have something in him,” he jested, hoisting himself up and patting himself down.

   Nagy stood back up with him. She had only just met this man, but she couldn’t help but be a little sad that he was leaving. Almost as though she’d met a kindred spirit. “Maybe someday when I’m big like you, I’ll take you on myself,” she offered, the feelings of warmth giving way to an innocent smile.

   He chuckled. “If I’m still around, I always willing to have nice match. I look forward to that day . . .” he paused, gesturing for her name.
“Nagy,” she finished for him, “Nagy Oaxi-Nogl.” She puffed up her chest, filled with pride over her name.

   “T’s been nice Nagy. My name is Dynami. Hopefully we can meet again when you have some stories of wastes to tell yourself,” he said with a warm smile. He lingered for a moment, something clearly weighing on his mind as the wind blew softly around them.

   After a brief moment of silence, he began to undo the fastener for his crimson red cape. He swept it off his shoulders, and held it down to her height, offering. “A gift for the good conversation and time,” he said.

   Nagy stood there for a moment, stunned and overwhelmed by the surprising events. But after a second, she reached out and took it in her hand, bundling it up in her arms so it would not get dirty.

   “May you stay strong and vigilant in your life journey,” he recited, his words sticking out like a form of ceremony. He turned and began to make his way up the northern path that led to woods, and beyond that: The Frozen Kingdom of Pulsaris.

   Nagy watched him walk until he was a speck in the distance, the music of nature humming melodies in the wind and with the shreds of grass shrubs that swayed with it. She turned back to the southern road and began to make her way back home, the memory still fresh in her mind.

   ***

    As Nagy approached the tall yellow building, her mind reflected back to the strange events of the day. As the sun gleamed on the ornate grooves set in the stone window sills that reminded her of autumn tree leaves, she clutched onto her new red hood that she kept coddled in her arms. The waves of children began to pool out of the double door entrance and down the long flight of stairs, and Nagy stood like a pillar among them, her eyes peeled for the small black figure she was supposed to escort.

   After a few minutes, the river ran dry and it was just Nagy, leaning against the lone pole in front of the building that illuminated the street after dark. She was growing a little tired of waiting for Gavin as she turned her gaze to the bright blue sky, yellow-orangish hues being to paint on the western horizon. “Where is he . . .?” she thought aloud, as she turned her head down and sighed.

   She began to pace about the side of the building to the courtyard when she heard a familiar voice. “Leave him alone! He can’t even fight you anymore!” It was almost like instinct, Nagy’s legs moved as fast as they could toward the source of his voice. As she began to round the corner on the scene, Gavin’s words from earlier stuck in her head. She darted against the wall, deciding to keep her distance and watch the scene unfold from afar.

   She saw three tall, well-toned boys dressed in shades of purple and yellow-- their school’s colors-- skin-tight athletic one-piece tracksuits. They were towering over a younger, pale boy, who she could swear was a 4th Year like herself. He always read books and had interests in the Numenera studies. Though she couldn’t remember his name, she knew that his father was a contact with the Aeon Priests. He didn’t ever bring much to eat for lunch and many in her grade assumed him to be poor. She knew it was weird since he went to such a nice school.

   Standing between these tall, tan boys and her classmate was her brother-- garbed in his tight, black pants and a black track shirt with his zipper halfway undone. He stood like a monument-- firm and unyielding-- with his arms outstretched to protect the defenseless boy. She could see the scowl and glare of frustration on his face from behind his long, black hair that turned rose red as it ended by his collar. Though Nagy could feel the fear resounding through his heart. Or, maybe it was her own.

   “Ey kid . . . Gavin, was it? Why you looking to pick a fight with us? Do you even know this kid?” a larger, more toned kid talked down. He was built like a young pack Aneed with roaring muscles that could haul cargo for miles. Nagy actually recognized him as an athletic student from three years ahead of her. Behind him was two other athletic kids, not as built, only one grade above.

   “B-but . . .  you won. He can’t do anything!” Gavin stuttered, the bravery in his voice matched only by his fear. “L-leave him alone. You got what you wanted…”  

   “Oh, but I’m not satisfied. That kid owes me a lot . . . and I don’t let kids make a fool outta Jarvis,” he said, his eye raised. He cracked his knuckles and moved toward Gavin. “And you’re . . . not gonna let me? That about right?”

   Gavin stood between the gang and the broken kid on the ground. His mouth couldn’t even open for words, but his glare answered Jarv’s question for all of them.

   “Alright then . . .” Jarv said, with a dramatic crack of his knuckles. “Suppose I’ll have to take out the rest of my anger on little heroes like you!”

   His large fist planted right into Gavin’s cheek with a resounding crack, followed swiftly by a sweeping kick that sent Gavin to the ground.

   As the other kids rushed him, Nagy’s eyes ignited. The promise she made to her mother resounded deeply in the core of her being.

   And in her mind, an unfamiliar voice commanded: ‘Go.’Jarv looked on as his two croneys continued to kick the helpless Gavin, grunting in pain. “Well hero, thanks for the entertainment, but I think it’s time we say good night,” he said, winding up for a powerful swing down on Gavin’s face.

   Right as he leaned in, Jarv’s fist was met something he’d not encountered for a while--- resistance. As Jarv looked up, he saw the golden flames defying the breeze and swaying to their own rhythm, his eyes met with a piercing glare of red. “Wh---” he began, before his hand was twisted around into a submissive stance.

   Nagy held his arm around with his hand against his back as Jarv howled in pain. She could feel the eyes of her brother looking up at her, expectantly.

   She knew what she should do, but she wasn’t in the mood for mercy.

   The other two boys, awe struck at first, regained their composure and lunged at Nagy, swinging their fists wildly upon approach. Nagy pivoted her feet and swung Jarv around into the two boys, sending them all tumbling back against the ground. She stood firm between her brother and his assailants. Nothing would pass her.

   “Let me tell you boys something,” she recited as she entered her stance, more than ready for the coming brawl:  “Heroes never lose.”

***

   As the memories cycled to an end, Nagy placed the last few strokes on her canvas. She held it out against the twilight sunset that shown against the distant waves of Lake Elan, to admire her work: bordered by the light, a black silhouette with reddish hair and garbed in a red cloak dancing through the night sky. The rose petals that trailed after him marking the intricate steps of his dance with a long quarterstaff. However, the position of the staff was perfectly aligned with the crescent moon so he appeared to wield splendorous scythe. A tear formed in her eye, her hand jotting down the name of her piece in the corner as well as her signature. “The Crescent Rose . . .” she read aloud, as she stared back it, the tear falling over her cheek.

   She gave it a minute to dry before she pulled the canvas against her chest, holding it tightly. “I miss you . . . so much . . . everyday . . .” she thought aloud, her words beckoning another tear. Her body curled up in the sand a few moments, in a ball, as the sun finally set on her, and she was left alone again in the dark. And there she stayed, for a few moments, removed from her reality. Her new life here. It was everything she wanted, but there was just one important piece missing.

   She sighed, bringing herself back to reality and wiping away the tears. She closed up her supplies and packed them back into her bag with the finished sketch of ‘The Crescent Rose.’ As she fumbled around organizing things, she noticed the device again. It was no bigger than her hand, spherical with a large indent and a button. At the bottom there was a receiver and at the top there appeared to be a slot for the antenna to extend. She stared at it longingly. Everything she ever wanted was right there, but… could she bring herself to do it?

   She pulled it out and stared at it, the moonlight reflecting in its glossy exterior. She could feel her emotions sucking her back in as her finger swirled over the button. “Gavin…” she whispered, the desperation setting into her voice. She had gone years without seeing her brother, but now that she had been with him for just a while, she could feel the anxiety from having him torn away from her again. “Maybe… I’m just not good enough…” she said, another tear falling from her face as she placed the device back into her bag.

   Nagy slung her bag around her shoulder and started to get up when she noticed footsteps walking toward her. As she turned to see who it was, a dark, gruff voice greeted her, “Hey.”

   Nagy blushed. This was the worst timing ever. Her voice cracked and gave away her stressed state that she had just spent the last hour in. “Hey…” she responded half-heartedly.
The Golden Guardian

     Finally, it’s here. Part 3 to my short story series “Nagy Alone.” This one is significantly longer than the previous two parts. It’s roughly double the length of Loathing Change, which still surprises me when I read it. I never thought I would write this much for a tabletop rpg character. Oh well, I would love to thank her for giving me so many ideas and inspiring me to continue down this path.

I have also decided that “Nagy Alone” will be a 5 part series. Based on my projections, the next two parts should not be as long as The Golden Guardian. This part is a little late due to life keeping me busy and Kingdom Hearts 3 releasing and making me wander back into Nomura’s world. However, now you guys should get the last two parts at the end of this month and next month respectively. This is due to my group, Messy Table Productions, starting the next season of Numenera, Fistful of Discovery and filling me with inspiration to finish this series. We usually stream on Sundays around 4pm CST. Check us out at twitch.tv/messytableproductions to keep up to date with Nagy’s current adventures.

A big thank you has to go to the people that supported me throughout making this part. My new official editor, who dedicated a chunk of her own time to helping me clean up things and suggested new ways of writing that will hopefully help me grow. As I continue to learn about this path I hope our friendship and partnership is bright. Another thank you goes to my GM for supplying his version of the 9th World. He continues to provide interesting lore and weird phrases for me to make the world feel unique as Monte Cooke probably intended.

Without further ado, here’s Part 3: The Golden Guardian. As always, Thank You For Your Support and feel free to leave me Critiques, Praise, and/or Hopes for the Future in the comments at the bottom. All responses are welcome :D
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  • Listening to: BNHA OST
  • Reading: Konosubarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku Wo
  • Watching: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
  • Playing: KH 1.5 2.5 Remix
  • Eating: Eggs (As feat. in Hot Ones w/ Gordon Ramsay)
  • Drinking: Cherry Coke
Hello to those checking in. I'm currently in the process of cleaning up Part 3 of Nagy Alone. It's looking to be about 15 pages long which is about double the length of my previous entries. I'm excited but also emotionally exhausted from how much I had to cram into this. That being said, it should be released by Thursday or Friday of this week. From there I have finally determined that "Nagy Alone" will be a 5 part series. The next two parts are not as long as part 3, and should be coming out by the end of this month and next month respectively. I'm feeling super motivated to work on her stuff. I'll be sure to post more stuff in regards to Nagy sprinkled throughout the month.
Why the inspiration kick up? Welp, we recently started up the Numenera game she is based in: "Fistful of Discovery." We stream this game over on Twitch on the channel: Messy Table Productions on Sundays 4pm CST. If you want to come out and watch My Fabulous Glaive who Needs No Weapon kick ass while showing sass, then come on by. We also answer Numenera questions for those interested in the game =D
Finally due to a few factors(New Hire at work to reduce my ungodly hours and me no longer being the GM at Messy Table), I have a lot more time I can devout to art. As such, you guys will probably be seeing an influx of Numenera, RWBY, and Pathfinder related content. I hope you guys can enjoy it as much as I enjoy making it. Also, I listen to a lot of music while I write. I'll post links to what I listened to this time around during the making of "Nagy Alone" Part 3- The Golden Guardian

I don't always answer messages, but feel free to shoot comments and critiques myay. I love trying to learn different view points in literature.

Links:
Fistful of Discovery Stream- twitch.tv/messytableproductions
Earworm- [link]
Nagy Alone Part 3 OST- [link] [link] [link]
    The sun was high in the sky over the desert city of Dessar. While the sand whipped in the air, the city walls and buildings kept the sand from really hindering travel throughout the day. The city sloped up from the lake on the eastern side. The yellow golden horizons were a pleasant sight in tangent with the crystal blue of the lake. Among the red, orange, and yellow draped all around the City of Art, the long, blonde haired Nagy dragged a Lorub corpse to the hunter’s guild.
    Her usual long, flowing blonde hair was tied up with an orange cloth that also absorbed the sweat on her forehead. Her typical orange Gi looked freshly made with a sharper shade of orange and a yellow stripe running along the lapel. The blue belt she had around her waist which she had allowed to flow in the wind freely now was tucked in neatly. She now wore boots made out of a fine golden leather with gold-painted metal plating protecting her toes and ankles. Around her left leg, just at the top of her boot, she had tied a swath of fine red cloth that she allowed to flow with the wind.
    The long beaked aquatic beast, the Lorub, had smooth, reddish skin, a long beaked head like pelican, with a slim neck that flowed into a fatter dolphin-esque body with fins and a long tail. Nagy had carried it from the southern gate up the hill to the guild house on the mid-western side of town, she pulled open the guild house doors. “Garenhald! I’m back with your bounty!” she called out, trying to sound a little annoyed.
    A stout, tan man garbed in red with orange cloths around his head and  gold jewelry littered throughout his face and in his hair walked up to Nagy and her Lorub. “Ah, you managed to take down the mother…” he said, impressed as he analyzed the corpse. “You really have a quite the pair of guns on you m’girl,” he laughed, leaning back with his guffaw, the sound echoing from his long ornate beard throughout the hall.
    Nagy placed her left arm on her hip and gave him a smirk while rolling her eyes. “I told you if you wanted a job done, I’m the girl for it,” she stated proudly, waving the loose strands of her golden hair back confidently.
    “That you did m’girl, and I’m glad to have those Lorubs away from my fish farm. As we agreed upon,” he said with a smile cracking through his black beard. He pulled a pouch from his back belt loop that jingled with Shins.
    Nagy accepted it with a wide grin. “Anytime you need a beast hunted, you can count on me to square it down, Garen. Make sure you don’t forget about me,” she said sweetly with a wink, “And don’t forget to tell your friends.”
    “I shan’t forget soon m’girl. And that I will,” he said, his smile looking kind and almost fatherly. “Take care though m’girl. Overconfidence has been the ill-fate of many around the Forgotten Kingdom,” he warned.
    Nagy turned and began making her way back toward the streets. “Believe me old man, I’m well aware…”
    Nagy ran down the roads lined in glowing runes of exoctic colors of green, yellow, red, and orange, listening to the jingling of coin from the pouch of Shins hanging off her belt. She eventually found what she was looking for---a shop with runes glowing in grey and what appeared to be the image of a hammer. This place had obviously been a home during its original design, for it had a nice veranda where the smith had placed his mechanic prosthetics parts. Along with the nice prosthetics display, the couple that owned the smith were very nice and offered a wide range of services.
    “Jario! Makvin! I’m back!” she called as she entered through the silken cloth that covered their front door. The smell of smelt metals, smoke, and grease was heavy inside, but luckily they kept it very open air, so it wasn’t so overwhelming. She heard a rustle come from above and around the corner of the entrance. Jario must have been hard at work with something at furnace.
    “Ah, the cute lassy is back for a tune up I presume,” a small, tan, bearded man who rounded the corner stated. He lifted up his mask to show a pair of silverish blue eyes. Through all the wrinkles and scars, Jario still had a kind and honest heart, which had been one of Nagy’s favorite parts about this shop.
    “Wasn’t my original intent, but that would be nice too. The creature I fought this morning put up quite the fight and I think the synch on my arm was a little off,” she said with a smirk. She walked toward Jario and leaned down to give him a hug. Hugs in this land were seen as a more affectionate deal than where Nagy was from, but Jario was also a foreigner to these lands. It was something they shared.
    A taller middle aged woman made her way down the stairs that connected to the entrance. “Oh Nagy, I’m glad you came by to visit sweetheart. I was just preparing some Pracfeas Pie for Jario and me. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” she said with a tender smile. Makvin had been like a mother to her since she arrived in this city. It had been her that Nagy had encountered not long after she rolled up to the city.
    “I don’t think I’ll be staying today, Makvin. But I will come by someday soon,” she said, moving over and embracing Makvin in a hug. She always smelled of honey, which Nagy loved, but wondered how she did it. “I was hoping to have the military plate I had removed stripped and turned into an expanding shield. Were you able to get that done Jar?” she asked.
    “Aye, I got it done. The work’ll take a bit. And you also wanted that slot opened fur a spitter or sumthin right?” Jario asked. He scratched his head as  made his way back to the furnace.
    “Yeah, that’s right. I even got paid today, so I’ll be able to get paid off for everything,” she said, lifting her newly acquired purse up.
    “Twas never an issue to me, m’dear,” he called from the furnace in the backroom. “But I appreciate it nonetheless,” he said, carrying a thin sliver of metal with some wires hanging out of it. “Head out on the veranda, an’ we’ll get started,” he said, moving past her towards the wide open room full of weapons and armor.
     They passed through the armory which had all sorts of ornate armor and weapons on display. They really took the time to make sure everything was in the most aesthetic part of the room with the lighting and surrounding decorations. This was where Jar and Mak did a majority of their business. She knew the prices were good, but people really were in it for the attention to detail they were known for. The ornate glowing runes and inscriptions on the armor glowed a wide array of colors that kept the display room vibrant and appealing. As they passed through the other silk lace that separated the veranda from the armory, Nagy saw her favorite sight since she arrived here. They weren’t towards the top of the city, but right about at the middle, which left what she thought was the most aesthetic view of the lower city, market, and lake.
    The lake in the distance was a clear crystal blue and she could see an island off in the distance as well as a tower hovering just nearby it. The locals had called it the Tower of Life, but Nagy didn’t know much more about it other than it was beautiful when the sunset shown from behind it. The shoreline was abundant with ship numenera such as hover ships and rafts around the northern harbor fishing or just sailing around leisurely. Tourists and citizens alike were at the inns closer to the shore, taking in the lakeside scenery as if it were an ocean beach. Who could blame them? It was the most luxurious thing for miles in any direction.
    The market was just behind the harbor. It glowed with a mysterious aura. Out of everywhere Nagy had ever visited, Dessar seemed to have the widest array of Numenera she’d ever seen. And it wasn’t just their ability to scavenge the Numenera, but also their understanding of it. The people here, even the merchants, spoke about Numenera in ways she thought only the Aeon Church did. Tents would often be decorated in glowing blue and yellow runes, using sheens of protection to separate the arid temperature of the desert to a cool refreshing controlled temperature. She couldn’t get used to it, but those tents were fascinating.
    Low Town was adjacent to the Market and Shoreline. Out of all the places in the city, should would have to say it was the least colorful. But it still was a lot more colorful than a lot of places she’d been. Hunting trips when she was young as well as her adventures in her youth had taught her that colorful towns and cities weren’t all that common. Low Town still had enough, and would often have street art littered all around. She had been told that it was the work of degenerates originally, but became more a staple of living there. So often people would be able to find there way around by just knowing the murals. She liked how even from a fair distance, she could still spy just a few of the murals.
    Midtown, where she currently was located, was higher up, because The Great Dune the city was originally built on started to rise towards the end of Low Town. Midtown had been a lot stricter on mural creation in the earlier days, but by no means did that make it less artistic. The tapestries and veils people used on their home for windows, entrances, and decorations all shone with complementing colors that was organized by a community that cared for the aesthetic they gave off. From what Mak had told her, some of the veils were actually just fabric, but a lot them were actually Numenera that acted as a barrier between the outdoor and indoor parts of the buildings. This amazed her, especially at night when they would shimmer with a light glow.
    The sun was crawling down to afternoon as Nagy made her way over to the chair that they used for prosthetic operations. It had all sorts of devices protruding from both the chair, and the console that was attached to the back of it. The Numenera in this city was truly astounding and Nagy was pretty sure it was a medical device that Mak used while they were doing procedures. As she laid back in the chair, she gazed out at the sky and began to reminisce in the time she had spent here and how she had found Mak and Jar.
    She had rolled up to Dessar early in the morning after almost 5 days of starvation and 2 days of thirst. She could scarcely talk and the guards were arguing with her over the parking of her vehicle. She was almost about to explode on a guard before Mak pulled up next to her. She calmly soothed the situation and paid for a place for her Dunerunner. Once inside the walls, Mak had told Nagy that should could feel her thread dying. To her it was like a 6th sense. She couldn’t sit by and watch and told Nagy to rely on her.
    Even through Nagy’s paranoia fueled protest, Makvin had brought her to their home and encouraged her to rest while they fixed her up. She recalled nothing but pain the next two days. She would wake up with fever and hysteric, only to be soothed and lulled back into sleep by Mak. When she finally awoke in a better condition the dawn of the third day, she awoke in Makvin’s lap, her hand on her head, but being cautious of her hair. It was almost as if she sensed her discomfort. After a bit of discussion, Makvin explained that her expertise was medicine and she was of special renown for her ability to understand basic feelings of those she connected with.
    Jar’s snapping fingers brought her back. “Ello miss, you there?” he asked with a slight bit of teasing in his voice.
    “Y-yeah. Sorry, just got a little lost,” she said nervously. She had daydreamed a little too much while she was in this city. It was probably making her lazy, she would tell herself at night before bed.
    “Wouldn’t be a first lassie,” he chuckled at her, grabbing some of the tools he had set on the table. He took her arm placed it in the right side clamp. He looked her in the eye. “May I?” he asked. He always asked, and that’s why she trusted him. He never overstepped his bounds and tried to be a homily, humble man even though he was clearly very talented. She nodded and he fastened her arm in to the clamp until she wasn’t capable of any movement. He unhinged the plating started tooling around with the forearm, loosening the casings, and examining the wiring.
    While Jar was busy tinkering in her arm, Nagy leaned her head back to Mak who was pulling out cords from the machine to place on her skin. “Whacha doin?” she asked in a childish tone. She even started kicking her feet in the air carefree to add to the look.
    Mak smiled at her as she took two of the wires and attached them via clear tape to her cheeks. “Getting the FBS ready to connect to you dear,” she said in a sweet motherly voice. FBS stood for Full Body Scanner. It was an interesting Numenera that connected lightly to body to pick up on some of the signals via the nervous system. It would then show some of the commands being given and received by the brain on the terminal. “But you already knew that,” she toyed, booping her nose with her finger before going back to her machine.
    Nagy laughed. She did know the basics of it, but not so much the specifics. From what she understood, the machine was like a second brain, but couldn’t input commands. She pulled her head back to an upright position and continued to stare out at the Eastern Horizon. She monitored the sky a little and started to do the calculations she was taught in primary schooling. “3 weeks, 3 days, and 16 hours…”  she concluded to herself.
    “Hm?” Mak responded, still looking at her machine. “Since what dear?” she asked, her head bobbing slightly to the side.
    Nagy kept staring out into the sky. “Since I got taken from him… all of them,” she said, her voice cracking with a tinge of pain. “I was angry and tired… all I wanted was revenge… and right as I began to feel better… I was taken from him… Gavin… my family when they needed me most. They needed me to be strong and I…” she continued. She could feel the ducts in her eyes growing heavy as she spoke, but she fought it back.
    “Dear… it will all be okay in th-” Mak started
    “No it won’t!” she interjected. Her eyes flaming and hair beginning to glow. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I then. It could be days, months, maybe even years… They could be in trouble right now! And all I’ve been doing is sitting around here doing nothing but side work for the Shins, HOPING there is finally a cypher with a far enough range for me to contact them,” she yelled, the tears flowing over her cheeks as her hair began to dim.
    “He could be dead or gone… just like her…” she shouted, her voice ugly as tears streamed down her face. “I am strong, and I will keep him safe… even from death if I have to…” she stated, her eyes still burning with a fierce, burning determination.
    “Honey, in the end that’s not your decision to make,” Mak said, placing her hand gently on Nagy’s shoulder. “If you could just calm down a little, Jar might be having a little trouble with that strength you have…” she said, a nervous laugh following her words.
    Nagy realised that she had been somewhat adjusting the clamp her arm was placed in. “Oh… I’m sorry Jar…” she said, her face somewhat flushing as her eyes returned to their usual shade of light purple.
    Jar pulled up his mask. “S’not too much o’ a problem missy, but I did en’ up snippin’ sumthin’ while ya’ were shoutin’. It’ll take a second to get tat and ya mey fee’ sum pain. Not sure really until I can crack ya’ open. Ya’ ready?” he asked with his greased beard outlining a reassuring smile.
    Nagy managed to crack a smile herself. “Yeah…” she replied, trying to thank his optimism the best she could. She could at least bare the consequences of her temper tantrum.
    As Jar pulled down his mask, he grabbed a new tool and began to toil with the wires mechanics inside her arm. After a while, she began to feel a sharp jolt that coursed through her shoulder; where the flesh met steel. The tingling sensation that followed numbed that area and she tried hard not to advertise her discomfort. She began to count in her head to occupy her mind until the sensations passed while Jar continued to fix her forearm. “Ah, I think I found it,” Jar said reassuringly. They both knew she really disliked these procedures and were always the best at helping her through it. “Just a few more seconds and there we g---” he stated, but was cut off by a sharp jolt that surged passed her shoulder and seemed to strike the very core of her head.
    The pain was excruciating. She felt her whole body convulse from the pure pain. Her mouth gaped open to scream, her eyes slammed shut, and she felt a snap of metal beneath her legs. As suddenly as the pain came, it vanished and she was left in the void of endless darkness.
     This expanse stretched on for as far as she could see. She could see only herself as she could normally, but was missing her right arm. It was similar to the dreamscape she found herself in after her bout with Conquest, The God. He had taken her arm, her home, and her confidence. She, a renowned fighter, was brought down in an instant and made useless dead weight to her team. The main difference was that this void didn’t seem to bend to her will like the dreamscape did. She spent a solid minute trying to will her arm back, like she did when she fought the Living Nightmare, but to no avail. She almost felt this voidscape was not under her control.
    She gave up on her arm. She had a feeling she wouldn’t need it in here anyway. She began to move forward. ‘Might as well see where this goes,’ she thought. As she moved, she felt whisps fly past her, but saw nothing. She froze, nervous of a presence. The whisps grew into a wind that got stronger and stronger until its force spun her around. Behind her, she saw a brilliant light that shone as bright as the sun. She squinted and focused on it and noticed a humanoid silhouette being eclipsed by this brilliant sun.
    It seemed to advance toward her as she noticed it. They seemed connected, like one being: this sun and silhouette. As it approached, she felt the sun’s warmth. It radiated and seemed to embrace her like a mother would a child. Nagy could feel the tears inside her well up from the emotions this pulled on. The silhouette turned to her, extended an arm, beckoning her.
    Nagy remained still, conflicted. She was in tears and not ready for whatever this thing was making her feel. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t manage words. “M-m-m…” she stuttered. The silhouette retracted its arm then grew, contorting shape from humanoid to a large spire. The sun radiated brighter than ever and the image of the glowing spire seemed to burn its way into her mind. The sun then collapsed inward on the spire instantaneously, the feeling of warmth blasted away by a gust of sheer cold. But in that gust she felt a warm whisp, a remnant of The Sun-Silhouette. It spoke to her one word, a singular, soft request.
    Nagy’s eyes snapped open and she was back. Jar and Mak were both standing over her. She felt Mak’s soft hands wiping the sweat off her forehead with a cold rag. Nagy’s robotic arm was finished and out of the clamp now. Jar wore a bit of a concerned face as he looked from her face to the device just behind her. She had been reclined all the way back in the work chair and she could tell that she had been crying from the sore feeling in her eyes. “What… happened?” she started.
    “You had a bit of a reaction when Jar reconnected you. You blacked out, and have been sleeping for a few hours,” Mak said, her voice fluttering in relief.
    “Tha dev ‘ere said you were doin’ fine, jus’ unconscious. So I closed ya up while ya were out. Ya didn’t do much after ya initially wen’ under. Jus a lil cryin’ ere an there,” Jar reported, sounding cool and casual. “Tha’ bein said, I’ve said it befer’, but damn ya sure ‘ave sum muscle sweetheart. Ya’ darn broke tha leg holsters on meh chair,” he jeered at her.
    “How are you feeling though?” Mak intruded, giving Jar a look.
    Nagy sat up and stretched a little. “Fine actually. I think the soreness I normally feel in my shoulder is gone already too.” As her legs dangled off the edge of the chair, she turned to Jar, “Oh yeah, and sorry about that…” she said, scratching the back of her head nervously.
    “S’no problem, missy. Jus’ weld a few things and give it a smothin an’ it’ll be right back on there,” he said reassuringly.
    Nagy nodded. She turned back to look out over the skyline, thinking about what had just happened. They weren’t lying that some time had passed. The evening sun was already heading down, as all the buildings in low and midtown were bathed in the yellowish golden-brown hue of the evening sun. The colors of orange drapes, blue tech, and sparkling green and blue from the coast were so beautiful by contrast.
    “Well dear, I just finished up that pie. You’re always welcome to join us,” she said, making her way back into the house and towards the kitchen.
    Nagy smiled. “Yeah, that sounds great Mak. I’d love to,” she said. She knew it would help her feel better and that would help both of them after the scare she’d given them. She sighed, pulling her mind back to the vision while she continued to gaze at the scenery. ‘What was tha---’ she began to think until it clicked into her mind. As she gazed over the lake, she saw it again in the distance, the silhouette of the Tower of Life eclipsed by the setting sun. The word of The Sun-Silhouette echoed in her mind: “Come.”
Loathing Change
Woooo, Part 2 of "Nagy Alone"

Weren't expecting that one so soon were you? Only took me six months to finish this one ;) I started this one right after the first part back in July, but just never completed it until around the end of November. This series has been a lot of fun for me. I don't necessarily turn things out regularly, but I did finish two other projects in that 6 month hiatus that I hope to give to you guys in the upcoming months (depends on when the characters come into the light).

As always, Thanks for Reading :D
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    The dunes of the south were harsh and unforgiving. A day could reach to scorching temperatures that dehydrate even the sturdiest Aneed. Meanwhile the nights could freeze the furriest of Ravage Bears. Tonight, traveling under the veil of night was one little yellow light, tired and poorly equipped. She stood at about 5 foot 4 inches tall, had long, wild blonde hair that flowed down to her wide waist. Her face was thin and malnourished with dry pillowy lips and gorgeous purple eyes. She had hardly anything in terms of protection, and although her Second Skin prevented sunburn, nothing could save her during the cold. Wrapped in her tattered orange gi, her high shorts, and sandals did very little for warmth. Even her bulky, metallic right arm with wires connected directly to her nervous system, could do nothing to help her here. In fact, the metal was just cold to the touch and freezing her chest.
    ‘I don’t know if this has been a blessing or curse… Nexus…’ she thought, her metallic right arm covering her forehead and trying to shield her eyes from the sand. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like if she had gone with the others to the Frozen North Kingdom of Pulsaris. But right now, she was playing the line between life and death as the cold winds filled with sand blew all around her. She didn’t like sand… it was coarse, rough, and it got everywhere!
    As she crested another dune she looked to the sky for answers. She hadn’t studied too much about how to use the stars to navigate. The wind was getting stronger and getting sand in her eyes. Even when she wasn’t trying see where she was going, she could feel the pain pulsing in her retinas. The sky was dark bluish purple with all sorts of sparkling stars strown about the sky in a tapestry weaved by the gods. She pulled her left arm up to cover her nose and better shield her eyes as she continued to examine the sky for answers. ‘One week, 3 days, 27 hours…’ she thought. She was unable to remember how to navigate, but she did know how to tell time from the sky at very least.
    “Gavin…”she muttered, her voice cracking into a low-pitched squeal. She fell to her knees, her body growing colder and numb. She was at the end of her limit. The last town had been a while back and they told her the city was a long ways to the Southwest. She had bought plenty of rations and water, but it was all taken in her sleep by clever creatures that swam through the sand. Her hands fell to her side as her head fell limp and bobbed. She felt like she wasn’t even here anymore. ‘... I’m sorry.’ she thought, finishing the thought that her mouth couldn’t speak.
    She stayed like this for what felt like an eternity before she heard a buzzing sound among the roaring winds. ‘Get up… keep looking,’ she heard in her head. It was not her own voice. It was an older woman, her voice coarse and sharp, but concerned. She began to feel her limbs twitching. She felt dead, but the voice’s tone seemed desperate and it inspired her, even if for just a second. She pulled her head up and began to examine where she had heard the buzzing. She couldn’t see anything for miles. It was hard scouting in a sandstorm without goggles. She knew that a smart person would have stayed put and wait for the storm to pass before travel, but she was reckless and yet again she found herself being killed by it.
    She sighed and began to resign herself again when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a light. A house, a camp, SOMETHING was over there. She felt a burst of warmth with the hope that filled her. “Please…” she called, her voice cracking into a loud shrill. She pushed onward pushing her voice, “Someone…” her voice cracking again. Trying to use her voice after days of silence and almost 36 hours of no water proved one her most challenging endeavors yet. She felt her legs come back and she pulled herself up and began running towards the light. Her arms swayed in front of her slightly hunched back. She continued to run towards the light trying as hard as she could to yell. “HELP!” she finally cracked out. It was hard to understand and far from her smooth and beautiful voice she was used to using.
    The light seemed to start moving then. It turned toward her slightly then twisted around clockwise until was it was shining at her. It started coming closer. A vehicle. She could tell by the buzzing sound of an engine. It was letting out a familiar sound, but she couldn’t think of anything other than getting to it for help. It kept getting brighter and brighter as she felt the light blinding her. “I’m right he---” she started. Her vision went black as she felt something push her back in the shoulder as she twisted around and hit the ground with a thud.
    When she opened her eyes, she could feel herself being dragged by the ankles through the sand. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all as her gi hung over her belly, secured only by the thin blue belt she had tied around her waist. She looked forward to see a man covered in brownish cloth and rags cackling at the vehicle as he dragged her by her ankles. He couldn’t have been taller than her and he looked rather scrawny, but the rags made telling that difficult. She felt cold and numb again. Moving was hard and she was losing will too. She tried moving her right arm, but it felt like deadweight now. ‘If only I had…’ she began to think, but she stopped herself. Now was not the time for a pity party.
    “Looks like we caught a real beauty this time. Out all by herself. Nexus really is the best. I bet the slavers in Corseus will take her for a high price!” the little man dragging her called out excitedly.
    She let her head fall limp to the left side. They were at the vehicle now. She heard the gruff voice of an older man now. “Ha, with a face like that… I’m gonna use her a bit. Maybe until the cute wears off. Then I’ll toss her out.” He laughed. She could make him out. He was burly with scars covering his misshapen face. He didn’t have rags, but he was wearing some tough looking leather clothing as well as a tight suit over his skin. His gloves looked like they were in tatters from overuse and he had goggles pulled up on top of his bald head as he examined her.
    Cold. Scum. All of them. She had never thought of such a practice. But this was it for them. As she began to fill with anger, she felt something in her chest ignite with life. She put all her force in her legs, using gravity to give her a little added boost. The ragged man went down, and with her legs free, she pulled back and lunged onto her feet in one flowing motion.
    “Ah, you bitch…” the little ragged man screamed, still dazed from the sudden take down, but she could tell he was still energetic and angry.
    She stood there about 10 feet off from the left side of the vehicle, looking around and eyeing the situation cautiously with her eyes fiery red. Her hair flowed in its own way, ignoring the wind and flaring like wisps of flame. The vehicle was very familiar to her now. It was almost the shape of a large 5’ x 8’ x 6’ box with thick steel bars lining it. There were no doors, walls, or windows keeping the top, sides, and back from exposure to the elements. It was suspended about 2.5’ off the ground on four big bulky tires, this vehicle wasn’t fast but good for the desert. It was a Dunerunner. ‘Perfect,’ she thought, allowing a slight smile to run over her face. Something was finally going in her favor. Now there were just a few things standing in her way.
    She saw the big man in the driver seat with a bald head and scars. This must have been Mr. “Use and Toss” comment. Asshole. She already knew how his night was going to end. She also noticed there was a man in the back at about average size, dressed in a cloth face mask, goggles, and thin clothes that looked a little big for him. He also carried a holster with some form of firearm in it. She felt the light pain in her right shoulder. ‘This must be the asshole that shot me,’ she thought as he inched his hand over his holster nervously.
    “Blondie… you’re gonna regret that later, when I’m tearing that ass apart,” the little man yelled again at her as he scrambled to his feet. The others began to chuckle stupidly.
    She clenched her left fist with a scowl. She didn’t like that comment. Too crass with very little left to the imagination. She would usually have a quip of her own, but today was just not one of those days. She rushed him, closing the small window of space between them in almost a second. She pulled him up by the collar off his feet with her right hand then brought her left fist down on him really hard. He went down to the ground with a loud squeal.
    She looked over to the other two who were now alarmed and drawing their weapons. She raised her metallic right arm over her head just in time as a bullet ricocheted off. She swiftly moved left around the front of the dunerunner, ducking for cover as the sound of bullets flying trailed her closely. She couldn’t take those bullets. She was exhausted and weak.
    She peeked around the right side of the vehicle to check the gunner’s attention when she heard a grunt from behind her. The big guy was circling around the left side now with a large hammer in hand. He swung down at with a powerful crushing blow, but she tumbled forward under his legs. Just as she finished rolling, another bullet flew by and almost grazed her nose. She cursed. This gunner was sharp and on her.
    She stood and saw the big guy side-swing at her with a long arc. She changed stance, getting light on her feet and twirled toward his arm, circling around him with the motion of his arm. He seemed bewildered by her movement and she wasted no opportunity. She jumped onto his back and secured her right arm around his neck. She could feel the flesh being crushed by the metal as she put all her force into crushing his bulky neck. It was clearly working as he immediately dropped the hammer and began twisting around, trying to grab for her. She grabbed one of his arms and twisted it, whirling him around. ‘Just in time,’ she thought, as another bang came in their direction.
    She felt a light punch in her stomach, but it was definitely nothing she couldn’t take. She began to rock forward as the big guy started going limp. She climbed onto his shoulders and leaped towards the back of the dunerunner. The gunner was aimed right at her chest. He was fast, but unfortunately for him, she was his opponent today. Her right arm moved up and a bullet ricocheted upwards as she felt a sharp pain run over her forehead. ‘Damn it! That was too close,’ she thought, scowling as blood started running down her face. This arm was heavy and the delay was pissing her off.
    She landed in front of the gunner and weaved lightly out of the way of another gunshot, whirling around his extended arm to his back. She breathed in deep before putting her full force into her left arm as she launched the back of her left fist into his temple. She felt the heat radiate off her fist as she sent him flying into a bar and off the left side of the dunerunner.
    Exhausted and breathing heavily, she stared at all of them lying on the ground as she towered above them atop the back of the Dunerunner. These guys were toast. She started a smile but then she felt it. Electricity pulsing through her left arm. Her fingers started contorting and spasming in every direction they could as she was losing feeling in her arm. She noticed her breathing as she grasped her wrist with her metal hand to keep it steady. She started taking deep calming breaths and after a few seconds, she could feel her hand again.
    “Damn…” she muttered, her voice raspy and strained. She hopped out of the back of the vehicle and rounded the left side. The little guy was still squirming on the ground, cursing. It was annoying. She walked over, kicked his head with a bit of force and he went limp. His style was lame with a mixture of browns and dirty yellows, but now wasn’t the time to worry about fashion. She stripped him and wrapped his rags around her arms and legs. The little man was practically skin and bones--- as she had guessed--- with short, roughly cut jet black hair. This apparel was warmer, but it could be better.
    She looked over to the big guy. ‘He isn’t going to be needing his shit ever again,’ she thought as he lie face down with a crimson hole in his back. She tore off his leather shirt and began ripping it into a makeshift scarf to protect her mouth from the sand. She pulled the goggles off the back of his head and fastened them on her forehead for quick use.
    She moved over to the gunner. His gun was nice, but it looked like she broke it when she sent him flying into the metal bar of the Dunerunner. Nevertheless, she took the parts. Never know how useful those could be. She even found some Shins on him too. Jackpot!
    As she hopped into the driver’s seat and revved up the engine, she heard a call from the little man. His face was bloody and littered with big whelps, probably from her. “Wh-who are you?” he called at her.
    She turned forward and pulled the goggles over her eyes. She slammed her foot on the gas as the vehicle propelled itself forward with a lurch. She didn’t mind though, she was used to these things. Making her way roughly down the dune and into the distance she replied, “No one special…” her voice cold and unshattered.
Lost, but Not Forgotten
This is the first part of my series: "Nagy Alone."

This story follows my Numenera Character, Nagy Oaxi-Nagl. She is an Impulsive Glaive who Needs No Weapon. After losing her home and being nexus'd--- warped through space and time at random--- from her family, Nagy finds herself alone in the vast desert. What will she do as her party heads North to the Frozen Kingdom of Pulsaris? Let's find out together ;)

**Note: I did upload this to :iconroy-flamaku2453: but that was while I was having account problems. Now that it is fixed, this will stay here**
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Journal History

  • Listening to: BNHA OST
  • Reading: Konosubarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku Wo
  • Watching: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
  • Playing: KH 1.5 2.5 Remix
  • Eating: Eggs (As feat. in Hot Ones w/ Gordon Ramsay)
  • Drinking: Cherry Coke
Hello to those checking in. I'm currently in the process of cleaning up Part 3 of Nagy Alone. It's looking to be about 15 pages long which is about double the length of my previous entries. I'm excited but also emotionally exhausted from how much I had to cram into this. That being said, it should be released by Thursday or Friday of this week. From there I have finally determined that "Nagy Alone" will be a 5 part series. The next two parts are not as long as part 3, and should be coming out by the end of this month and next month respectively. I'm feeling super motivated to work on her stuff. I'll be sure to post more stuff in regards to Nagy sprinkled throughout the month.
Why the inspiration kick up? Welp, we recently started up the Numenera game she is based in: "Fistful of Discovery." We stream this game over on Twitch on the channel: Messy Table Productions on Sundays 4pm CST. If you want to come out and watch My Fabulous Glaive who Needs No Weapon kick ass while showing sass, then come on by. We also answer Numenera questions for those interested in the game =D
Finally due to a few factors(New Hire at work to reduce my ungodly hours and me no longer being the GM at Messy Table), I have a lot more time I can devout to art. As such, you guys will probably be seeing an influx of Numenera, RWBY, and Pathfinder related content. I hope you guys can enjoy it as much as I enjoy making it. Also, I listen to a lot of music while I write. I'll post links to what I listened to this time around during the making of "Nagy Alone" Part 3- The Golden Guardian

I don't always answer messages, but feel free to shoot comments and critiques myay. I love trying to learn different view points in literature.

Links:
Fistful of Discovery Stream- twitch.tv/messytableproductions
Earworm- [link]
Nagy Alone Part 3 OST- [link] [link] [link]

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Roy-Flamaku
Pokemon Master
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Hello, my name is Roy and I hope to be a cartoonist here when I get older =) I plan on making my own series based off of stories that have been collecting in my head since I was a kid. I have great friends and I hope to make some here too =) I love video games and I am trying to make a group that loves video games and services you if you seek video game knowledge =) I only have one real demand from you. Cookies! Send me as many cookies as you can! :iconawesomecookieplz:

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Current Residence: A house
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Bostongirl7519 Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2016
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Your page is outstanding,
Hugs.

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KillerfishSG Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2015  Student Artist
Thanks for the fave c:
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Roy-Flamaku Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2015
You are most welcome. Katia is awesome and I love seeing fanart of her.
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Thanks for the fav! :hug:
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You are most welcome ^-^
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Thanks For The Fav. :D
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Most welcome ^-^
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thank you for the fav :aww:

did you ever get to Japan for study abroad? 10/10 recommend :nod:
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Thank you. Yes! I am currently there and it is amazing ^-^
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Wow thank you so much for the fave! I really appreciate the support~! :heart: :D
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