A collection of ideas for stories, fragments of prose and poetry...

Why I will never get the epic armor sets

I look through the darkened mirror,
and see mine own reflection,
astride the epic story,
all focus giv'n

but then against that likeness cast
back of legendary strife,
I hold the one truth:
'tis not my life

A variation on Fearless...

  • a fantasy setting
  • young man joins the guards of the dominant religious order
    • cross between medieval christianity and eastern religion
    • guard has a reputation for being preternaturally responsive when needed, and completely uncorruptable
    • leader of guards is intelligent guy
      • teaches thoughtful responses
      • "open hand can help or crush"
    • does the standard "basic training" stuff
    • told last night will be an initiation
    • when last night arrives, he is taken away and tortured
      • in the pain, he hears voices of others: the other guard members.
      • only works for those who continue to fight right till death.
      • can not be corrupted as a result.
      • he is left in a state where he is aware of the other guards constantly
  • plot revolves around a threat to the king
    • secretive external force pits secular versus religions (of course)
    • think "inverse of the three musketeers" [or "King's Blades" done right, since there are obvious parallels, now that I read this]
    • possible plot twist: leader of religious order is actually the one fomenting disorder?
      • he never went through ceremony?

Fearless

(An action adventure)

A new recruit joins a high-tech special forces unit that is sent into situations that are impossibly stressful. What he doesn't realize is that the reason they are able to function in these situations is that the soldiers are implanted with technology that can vary the degree that they feel pain and stress responses. He is warned about using the technology too much, because the lack of pain is as addicting as pleasure: removing too much pain for too long leads to "The Crash" when the system is turned off -- death by overload of the pain response centers.

Possible plot direction: He is captured and the system is damaged in a way that prevents it from being turned off -- this should not be possible because of failsafes. Torture doesn't work on him (of course), but the enemy discovers the system and destroys it, inducing The Crash. It doesn't kill him (puts him in a coma?) for some reason (which need to be explained), but instead leaves him "improved" -- think superhero stuff.

(unnamed)

I crested the rise of the small hill I'd been following for the last ten or so minutes and saw below me the river that was my goal for this evening. There was no wind to move the trees, and the quiet shush-shush of my skis was the only sound I heard.

My Air

I was supported,
and now this... stuff,
this thinness,
leaves me breathless.

How could I know?

You're gone,
and now the view
is clearer,
but I can't fly.

Please,
give me back...''

(unnamed)

A shadow flitted across the face of the moon. Another followed. A soft whispering filled the air. With no more notice than this, the spies returned.
With hissing, grating voices, the reported what they had seen.
"Master, they come!"
"A full cohort"
"The south valley is full of men."
He wanted to ask more of them, but knew it would be useless. These servents were loyal, were observent, but had minds barely bright enough to form words. Complexities lie what kind of men they were would be beyond them. 'At least now he knew where to look', was his thought as he pulled the crystal scrying glass from his robe.

(unnamed)

For the second time since night fell, a branch caught the edge of the instrument case which rose over his left shoulder and he stumbled. He cursed the old man who had told him about this supposed short cut. He should have been at The Tipsy Bear Inn hours ago. Now it looked like the locals would all be in bed by the time he got there.
The truth was that he was more angry at himself than the oldster. He ought to have learned by now that, if something looks too good to be true, then it probably is. He had been walking down the road which he knew eventually led to Tipton, when he had come across a toothless, old man sitting by the side of the road.
“Wher’ye haddin’?”