Sundown Highway (Day 86)

--

Terakiel and Aisen strode with purpose, despite having no clear idea of where their direction might be leading them. The shirtless young man was beginning to grow accustomed to the constant chill in the air but still he eyed his companion's warm clothing with some envy. He didn't have the heart to ask if he could wear the cloak. Instinctively, he knew the cloak was important, perhaps even ceremonial. Once again, the word 'piriol' came to mind. He had never in his life experienced anything that might have explained what that particular cloak was--he knew it wasn't his own memory.

The two of them shared a bond now, whether he liked it or not. He remembered what it felt like when he touched the stone and did not let go. He remembered the terrible heat and the pain. He remembered the lightless Exod, the land of black trees and white stars. He remembered he had somewhere important to go but this was not it. No, this was quite possibly as far away from "it" as one could be.

Some of those were Aisen's thoughts. He realized that now to be true, but it made him uncomfortable. If Aisen's thoughts were creeping in the back of Terakiel's subconscious then the reverse was also true. What did he know? What would he come to remember? Once Aisen found out what Terakiel had done he would run as far and as fast as his feet could carry him. That would probably be for the best, he thought. It is my responsibility to atone, but it is a task I ultimately must undertake alone. 

For some reason that Terakiel could not ascertain, Aisen seemed to put his full trust in him. As sheltered a life as Terakiel had led, he couldn't imagine placing trust in someone he'd just met, especially someone who hailed from strange and unfamiliar lands. He just couldn't begin to grasp the concept. Was he putting on an act? As much as the young man struggled to reconcile the situation, he couldn't conjure any reasoning for why he would need to curry Terakiel's favor. The Lakarans, if they did exist, would not employ such subtle methods. As the legends said, cunning and guile were not foremost among their talents.

"There's a river up ahead," said Aisen suddenly, breaking the other man's reverie. "Wide one, by the sound of it. Good to have a source of drinking water but I imagine it'll impede our progress."

"Can we not cross?" inquired Terakiel.

"It is possible," Aisen conceded, "but depending on the depth and breadth, it might be safer to look for a way around. Let us wait until we get there and we can tell for certain."

As a thought struck Terakiel, he cast a sidelong glance at his new companion and asked, "Why are you so calm?"

"Calm? I don't know, why're you so glum?"

"I--I'm fine. I'm calm."

"That might be, but you're certainly don't have much of an adventuresome spirit."

"You think this is an adventure? You weren't meant to be here. You were going somewhere else."

Aisen paused a moment before responding, halting in his steps. "I don't think you were meant to be here either," he said softly.

"I--I mean, I'd always wanted to--to see what was beyond the woods."

"You did. I believe you. Let's keep up the pace."

Silence fell between the two once more. It was clear that Aisen knew more than he was letting on. Terakiel wasn't exactly in the position to begrudge him his right to be tight-lipped as he'd told him almost nothing about himself. But he knew. He knew things about Terakiel just as Terakiel knew things about him. There were fragments of memories that didn't connect in meaningful ways, but they were there. Aisen knew Terakiel was running, but not why. The young Tombolini intended to keep it that way.

The Beacon (Day 85)

I've been having some issues with my sleep schedule since--well, I'd say since the Florida trip but honestly it's a recurring issue and a big part of why I rely on caffeine so often. When I don't have access to caffeine (like now) I tend to sleep at really unpredictable times. Sleeping when you're tired is normal, I guess, but I get tired way more frequently than I feel I should. I'll end up only being awake for six to seven hour spans of time--and when I have access to caffeine I go to the other extreme and usually stay up for closer to twenty.

I just don't have any energy unless I have caffeine. I've stopped using it for pretty long periods of time on multiple occasions, and even once the withdrawal symptoms stop I lack energy. If that's just my natural state of being its honestly kind of a bummer! I don't really feel like doing anything, productive or otherwise. How does one overcome that, I wonder?

Today I've been watching a lot of Netflix. I'm taking a break from Pokemon Y because of my binge session yesterday, but I imagine I'll get back to it soon. I watched Pacific Rim and now I'm watching a Louis CK special for the fourth or fifth time. I watched a few episodes of the last season of The Office and finished up the most recent Parks and Recreation season available on Netflix. Huh, maybe I've been up longer than I thought? I think I might have woken up at 4 AM, but I still shouldn't be as tired as I am now.

Pacific Rim was really a fun film, although far from a perfect one. The special effects, action, and designs were spectacular, but most of the dialogue seemed pretty wooden. Charlie Dunnam, despite being incredibly attractive and charismatic, did nothing for me, but the dialogue could have easily been the culprit there. Nothing that came out of his mouth really stuck with me, but that's okay because this is a movie where giant robots punch aliens.

I will say that it was a treat to see Charlie Day pop up because for some reason I'd not heard he was in the movie. He brightens up an otherwise glum cast with his unique comedic talent. I'd always loved him in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and he does just as well here. Aside from the bombastic action scenes he was probably my favorite part of the film.

Dead Eyes (Day 84)

I think I've sunk into a Pokemon coma. I've been playing this game literally all day and I've been doing one thing and one thing only the whole time--breeding. For some reason I've become obsessed with breeding a pokemon with perfect (or as close to perfect as I can manage) IVs. If you're not familiar with the more technical aspects of these games then you might not have any idea what I'm talking about. Individual Values are hidden numbers that determine the base statistics of your pokemon along with other contributing factors like Natures and Effort Values. Nature and Effort Values can be manipulated pretty freely with some game knowledge, but IVs are tougher.

IVs range from 1-31 for each statistic and as far as I can tell are mostly random. However, if you're lucky enough to acquire several pokemon with naturally high IVs, you can breed them together and pass some of those IVs down. By default, three IVs are passed down, chosen randomly from both parents. If one of the parents holds a Destiny Knot, then five IVs are passed down instead. By chain-breeding forever, you can manipulate what IVs your eventual "perfect pokemon" ends up with. Ideally you'll want 31 in each stat, but this is borderline impossible to do.

Pokemon XY bring us a new treat when it comes to breeding for IVs, though. Destiny Knot did not allow you to pass down additional IVs before, so it is of course a godsend. That's not all, though; there's now a feature called the Friend Safari available in the post-game. For every 3DS friend you have registered, you have a Friend Safari of a particular pokemon type. It looks like this is mostly random. According to my friends my safari type is Fighting, whereas two of my friends have Poison. Pokemon caught from the Friend Safari not only have a higher likelihood of having "hidden" abilities (abilities that are not usually encountered in the wild) but they also typically have much higher IVs!

So, I spent most of the morning breeding dozens of Heracross and Scyther with the intent of ending up with pokemon with near perfect IVs. As a result, I ended up with a ton of extra pokemon who were perfectly usable but not up to my OCD standards. I decided to host a giveaway on one of the Pokemon subreddits. As a result, I gained about 25 new 3DS friends and Friend Safaris for each one--including a Bug safari, where I can catch Heracross. In a way this means all that breeding was a waste, but if I hadn't done it I wouldn't have made so many new friends. It works out either way.

There's at least a small possibility I am going completely mad. 

No Regrets (Day 83)

I feel like my stomach still isn't completely recovered from the Florida trip. A combination of fast food, alcohol, consecutive 14-hour car rides, and the saltwater of the ocean has left my stomach weak and powerless. It doesn't help that all I've eaten since I returned is some spicy spaghetti. Even after popping countless Tums I'm still feeling some acidic rumblings--unusual for me since I absolutely love spicy food and seldom suffer ill effects from it.

Its worth noting that I finished Pokemon Y while on the road trip, but I'm not completely ready to talk about that yet. I'm still catching Pokemon and battling; I imagine I'll still be playing it for quite some time, especially online. For right now, though, I'm in recovery mode. I'm going to relax for probably the next couple of days until I feel something approaching normal, and then I'm going to start seriously looking for jobs again. It's something I've been putting off for way too long and I'm not going to stand for it any longer.

The Florida trip is something I needed. I got to spend some more time with my friend Scott before he lives on his mission trip to Bulgaria and I got to spend some more time out of space. If anything it just further reinforces the point that I'm never going to be happy here in Kentucky. I've known this for a very long time but I've sometimes flirted with the idea that maybe I'm kidding myself and I'd be depressed anywhere. This isn't true; I'm not even sure I'm naturally a cynical person! My environment has worsened my personality considerably and I have no desire for it to continue. However, the only way I'll be on my way to getting out of here is if I can put myself into a position to save up some money.

I'm in a lot of debt that will take some time to chip through, but I'm up to the challenge. I have been so complacent and lazy in my life--with brief moments of optimistic determination. I have to figure out how to make that my default mode of operation. It'll be tough, for sure, but I have to figure out how to do it.

Shots (Day 82)

I'm finally back home, and we're already a few hours into Day 83. I'll have to write Day 83 sometime much later today after some well-deserved rest. I've really been getting into the habit of going on ridiculously long car rides over the past year or so. Every significant event in that time span involves me melding into a back seat while loud, obnoxious music plays. This particular trip had me wedged into a corner while sharing the seat with two other guys. It started out miserably cold and by the time we got to Florida, comfortably warm. By the time we returned it was milder on both ends of the trip.

The ocean was really fun but I wish I'd thought to buy swim trunks. Getting my normal clothes wet diminished the fun factor somewhat, but I still really enjoyed sitting on the beach in the warm sun, tracing shapes in the sand. It was tranquil and comforting in a way that I feel I can seldom experience here. This is my home; I've been here for my entire life and haven't left it for more than four months ever,and that was only a little less than a year ago. I'm still not sure I'm comfortable here or ever will be!

One aspect of the trip that I'm eager to forget is the punishingly terrible hangover I had when I woke up yesterday afternoon. It felt as if reality had become strikingly more solid; my surroundings were jarring, sharp, and uncomfortable. My nausea and damaged sense of self persisted for more hours than I can recall. We were on the road for many miles before I began to feel more like myself. There was at least one moment where I felt dangerously close to delirium with wild laughter escaping my throat involuntarily. And trust me, there was nothing really funny going on at the time.

As miserable as the eternal car rides might be, I love going to new places. I've been to Florida before, as a child, and I think I might have even gone to the same beach. Of course I don't remember any of it, so it still felt new and great. The water felt natural and familiar even though I haven't been in the ocean since then. The salty taste, the feel of the sand beneath my feet--it was all the same as before. I would love to return one day under better circumstances, well-rested and alert.

Idioteque (Day 81)

(This was written 10/26/13)

So here I am again, some 19 or so hours later. I'm in Florida and I'm exhausted, but I can't quite seem to get to sleep just yet. Today I went to the ocean and spent an eternity in a vehicle packed with other guys. We made the dumbest jokes that could possibly be made and in that moment they were the funniest jokes ever told.

The ocean is beautiful; it makes me wish that I lived near it. I feel like I'd generally just want to go outside more. The air seems fresher somehow, more full of life. The air in Kentucky seems stale in comparison, even though I live out in the middle of nowhere. I felt the sand on my bare feet and the terrifying strength of the ocean's waves. It's humbling to stand out there and realize one man does not have even the tinest fraction of what it takes to stand up to its power.

I love my friends because we occasionally do random spur of the moment things like this. Surprise a friend who lives 13 hours away without giving advance notice? Why not? Seems like fun. Spread out our arrivals so it seems like we arrived separately? Sounds hilarious. It worked out well, and it was super fun. I'm not sure what tomorrow (and really I mean tonight) holds, but I'm not looking forward to fitful sleep and the decades-long car ride back home.

This likely won't be uploaded until I get back from this trip, but the fact that I wrote it on the day in question makes it count. The entry for tomorrow will likely be the same.

Threshold of Transformation (Day 80)

I'm going to be away for the weekend, so there's at least a slight chance I won't have time to write entries for tomorrow and the next day. I'm going to do my best, but I'll try not to beat myself up if I can't get to it. The only reason I've been so consistent up until now is because I very rarely get out of the house!

I am reasonably pleased with how my story is progressing. Only a few months ago I wouldn't have imagined I'd have it in me to write 22 pages of content, much less crank out updates on almost a daily basis. I'm proud of what I've achieved with this blog--not only because of the fiction I've written but because I've kept up the routine for this long. I have historically had huge issues with sticking with routines. But I've always known that I've enjoyed writing and it fulfills me in a way that was missing in my life--and my laziness and apathy were preventing me from following through.

At the same time, I know my writing is far from perfect. Once I've compiled a massive, unorganized first draft, I'm going to go through the whole document with a fine-tooth comb and not only weed out the imperfections but likely entirely rewrite entire sections. Some passages lack flow, have grammar errors, or have typos. I'm sure even with as little as I have written there are some continuity errors. Most writers would tell you to craft an outline before you begin writing, but that's just not my style. I think what I'll do instead is read through my first draft and draw an outline from that. This will help me to smooth out the flow of the story.

As of right now I am essentially making things up as I go along. It's more exciting for me that way, but it can also be pretty difficult. The pace might seem like it meanders sometimes, which is okay--depending on the situation. My character is wandering aimlessly through the woods of Lakara. It makes sense that the pace might meander a little bit. I want to impart that feeling to the reader, but I don't want to be overbearing. I can already tell you there are a few things from early on in the draft that I want to expand on or completely change.

For instance, I wanted Terakiel to spend more time in the rain. In my head, he traveled in darkness and heavy rain for what seemed like an eternity--and that's how it felt while I was writing. After rereading it, however, it seems like it passes by pretty quickly. I don't want to insert filler into that section by any means, but I'll need to find a way to make it feel like a lot more time passed. I could even throw in some more events in that section that could flesh out his personality in some way or just add to the adventure.

All Out of Time, All Into Space (Day 79)

"I've been traveling in this direction all along, but I don't have any meaningful reason for doing so. I suppose you're welcome to follow, but I can't guarantee that this is the. . .right way."

Aisen was quizzical. "The 'right' way? Is your intent to find a town in which to take shelter? Or is there somewhere else you're heading?"

"I do not think you understand," intoned Terakiel. "My destination is nowhere. I know almost as little as you do about where I am and where I'm going." 

"That is a strange case indeed! What you're running from must be quite fearsome if it inspired you to uproot yourself from your home with. . . no plans and no supplies either." He surveyed Terakiel's battered, bruised body and the strip of filthy cloth still dressing his lower back wound. "How long have you been out here? How far have you traveled?"

Terakiel pointedly ignored him. Despite the strange and unsettling experience the two had shared, he still felt no particular reason to trust the man. Logically, this journey would be easier if they worked together and he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that his sudden appearance was mere happenstance. Myths and legends about the Lakara Wood were numerous; some tales even touted the mystical abilities of the Lakarans--including, among other things, the ability to shapeshift. What reason a Lakaran would have to gain his trust was beyond him, but he felt paranoid regardless. He'd never believed they were real creatures, but. . .his beliefs were being systematically unraveled one by one as he grew older.

"Tell me of Sidea," Terakiel demanded suddenly. "Your home. Tell me about it."

Although momentarily taken aback, Aisen did not hesitate to reply. "I hail from Vel'Sidea, the nation's capital. It lies on the southern coast of Illatha. If you've never ventured beyond these woods then its likely you've not heard of it."

"You assume correctly." 

"Yes." Aisen swallowed. "The climate is balmy, though not uncomfortable. It's certainly a lot warmer than around these parts. Is it always so chilly here?"

"Not always."

"Ah, well, in Sidea, it is mostly warm all year. There are slight variances of course, but even in the coldest months it won't reach temperatures like these."

"I don't mind the cold."

"I suppose you do get used it. I'm not sure I'd go tromping about the woods half-clothed, myself."

"It wasn't by choice," replied Terakiel gruffly.

"Oh? Were you beset by terrible creatures?"

"No. Of course not." He paused a moment, unsure. "What creatures might endanger me in these vast, empty woods?"

"I'm sure you would know better than I. I am a stranger here." 

Terakiel exhaled slowly. "I've told you--I don't know these woods any better than you do." 

"But how long has it been?" the other man asked again. "From when you set out? How long have you been traveling?"

Once again they fell silent. Terakiel wasn't ready to give any substantive answers to Aisen's questions. Wherever their destination might lie, it was going to be a long journey. He couldn't even begin to predict what his future might hold. Only a few days earlier he was prepared to never see another human face again. Yet here he was, sharing terse conversation with a complete stranger in the depths of unfamiliar Lakara.

The planar stone, despite its title and approximate purpose being known, was still a mystery. Who constructed it? Was it man made, or constructed by some. . .alien race? Terakiel was still skeptical the Lakarans had ever existed. He'd seen no evidence for as long as he'd been alive--but was this planar stone the key? Was it an artifact left behind by this long forgotten race? He wanted to ask Aisen what he knew, but it would have to wait. It would have to wait until he was sure.

Tiny Tears (Day 78)

"What right do you have to make these demands of me?" Terakiel asked sheepishly.

The other man balked. "Well, I certainly didn't bring myself here!"

"I didn't do anything of the sort!" insisted Terakiel.

"It is clear that you had something to do with it whether or not you intended to! You know of The Strand, yes?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

The other man buried his face in his palm for just a moment. "We are making no progress here. I am beginning to suspect that you are fleeing from the law--or perhaps someone else is after you. You're in danger, aren't you?"

Terakiel shook his head slowly. "Nothing like that, I'm afraid. Why should I pour out my soul to a stranger whose intent is suspect? There is no way for me to know that you're telling me the truth about what just happened here."

The man sighed, his shock of long hair swaying as he shook his head in frustration. "Of course you're right. If you speak truly, you have no reason to trust me, just as I have little reason to trust you. I have no idea where we are, but this is definitely not the right destination. There was something. . . strange about the Exod this time. I mean--it's always strange. The Exod is a mysterious and possibly dangerous place, but this time it was different. I feel as if--well, it's not important."

It sounded a lot like what Terakiel had experienced. Were there now hundreds of thoughts swimming in this man's subconscious, just barely perceptible? Did he now know things that he rightly should not? He examined the man's unusual wear once more and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his long cloak was called a piriol. It was a special sturdy fabric that did not tear easily. For what reason would he know that?

"Maybe it is important," Terakiel suggested. "I feel as if. . .I know things I did not before."

The other man cast a serious look at Terakiel, as if considering the meaning behind his words. "These woods--we are in Lakara, aren't we? I've. . .never heard of it before. But that's where we are. I know that."

Terakiel merely nodded. Whatever had just taken place, it was clear the same had happened to this man. He felt as if he too had traveled the Exod despite knowing that he'd not left the clearing and had not released his hands from the surface of the planar stone.

"It was painful," the man continued. "It was so hot but I couldn't take my hands off the stone."

"But the Exod," Terakiel offered. "It was cold, frigid even. The wind howled terribly and there was no color in the entire world. It was frightening."

After a brief silence, the other man continued. "I can't imagine how far away I must be from Sidea."

"I'm not sure I'd be able to tell you," Terakiel replied, genuinely regretful. "I've never seen what might lie beyond these woods. Anyone who has--if indeed they have--has never come back. I fear I'm on a fool's errand, Stranger."

"Anyone who can commune with the Strand should have no problem challenging the wilderness," the other man said carefully.

"I told you," Terakiel said, a little gruffly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Very well. Your secrets are your own. Despite all that--I think that we now must work together. The planar stone is. . .dead. I am unsure why it is here or how long it has been since its energy has been discharged, but. . ."

"I am not sure I--I don't know if I can help you. I am having so much trouble just supporting myself. I am not an adventurer--I barely know what I'm doing."

The other man looked frustrated. "You could make things so much easier for yourself if you just--if you were to. . ."

"I can't. I can't do that."

"Yes, well. . .I can assure you that I'm capable of taking care of myself. As the old saying goes, 'two heads are better than one.' "

Terakiel was unsure what such a proverb might mean, but before he could consider it, the other man was rushing off to the edge of the clearing, seemingly to survey the area. He turned around to cast an expectant glance at Terakiel. "Well, which way? I assume you've been traveling a certain direction all this time, yes?"

The shirtless, battered and bruised young man felt he had no other choice. He led the way.

"Oh, I must have forgotten. Pardon my rudeness, but my name is Aisen. It is a pleasure to meet you. If only we could have met under different circumstances. . ."

The Very Last Day (Day 77)

The planar stone was more than just a monument. It was a focal point for strange and powerful energies. This was clear to Terakiel not but he knew none of the specifics. He had melded with the stone and it had yielded some of its secrets to him. He felt like he had the memories of a thousand men running wild in his head, but most were locked away in a deep, dark vault in his mind. He could only glean minor tidbits of information from these memories but he now had the vaguest of ideas what the planar stone might be used for. It was a gateway to the mysterious Black World, where nothing made sense.

"Are you. . .from the Black World?" Terakiel asked. 

The other young man furrowed his brow in confusion. "I traveled the Exod, if that is what you mean. I'm not sure any living thing could call that place its home. It is. . ." He paused for a moment, as if lost for words. "It's a different place. It does not exist in the same way as you or I. But surely you must know this."

"No, I. . . I don't know anything. I was not the one that brought you here." Terakiel paused. "At least. . .if I did, I didn't intend to." 

The other man appraised Terakiel with the same skeptical look he'd been wearing for the past few moments. "How might one do such a thing by accident?"

"I don't know," the shirtless man insisted. "I don't know anything about this. The monument--the planar stone. . .I don't even know why I know what it is called." 

"This is no monument, as you must well know. You know it is a planar stone--but why wouldn't you? It is clear you possess some level of familiarity with The Strand and so you must know much of the different planes, and especially the Exod." It seemed as if he might continue, but he stopped suddenly, looking Terakiel up and down once more. 

"Just what is going on here?" he continued. "You've summoned me without knowing how you've done so, you're dressed in tattered, filthy clothing in the bitter cold. . . Do you speak truly? Who are you?"

"My name is. . .Terakiel," he replied reluctantly. 

"Very well, but from where do you hail? Are you far from home?"

Terakiel was unsure how he might answer that question. He'd always imagined if he encountered others on his trip he would craft some story about his origins, some beautiful lie that would quash any suspicions. But he hadn't had time to do any of that. He was at a loss for words. He had no reason to trust this man who wasn't being very forthcoming with information himself.

"I see. You're running from something; that much is clear. I won't invade your privacy, but there are questions that must be answered here. Let us figure this out together, yes?"

Have One On Me (Day 76)

Terakiel awoke as he had many times in the past few days. He was groggy, in pain, and unsure of where he was. After taking a moment to regain his senses, he realized he was still in the clearing with the monument. His bare flesh, though damp, was no longer covered in sheets of ice. He spared a glance at his hands and once again there were no scorch marks. For the most part, he felt reasonably well. Fog was still thick in the air, but the bitter cold from before was long gone.

He had no way of knowing just how long he'd been under. His surroundings--as murky and dim as ever--were spectacularly unhelpful. He raised himself into a seated position and groaned. The battered and bruised young man felt as if everything he'd gone through thus far paled in comparison to what had occurred with the monument. His head was throbbing with remembered pain, though it appeared there were no other lasting effects. The trees ringing the clearing were as alive and healthy as ever, with no hint they'd been encrusted with ice only--hours?--before.

The planar stone was no longer glowing with energy. After traversing the black world, its energy had drained from it, in a way that for some reason, seemed final. He reached out his hand to touch the structure once more and was not surprised to find no warmth there. It had served whatever its intended purpose might be. He felt as if the strange artifact had imparted its knowledge to him somehow. He had communed with it, had traveled its dark world. It was a planar stone; what that might mean was lost on him.

As frustrating as it might be to still be left with no answers, Terakiel was eager to move on. With the monument's power drained, he felt there was nothing left for him there. As he pulled himself to his feet, his blood ran cold as he caught a figure in his peripheral vision. Alarmed, he spun around to face the first human being he'd seen in several days.

He was a young fair-skinned man not likely much older than Terakiel himself, with shoulder-length blonde hair. He was garbed with highly unusual clothing. He was adorned with intricately crafted metal shoulder plates inlaid with a series of unrecognizable symbols. Underneath the plates he wore a long dark cloak partially obscuring a tunic, sash, and what Terakiel thought might be some more light armor. Before he could take in this strange man's appearance, he spoke suddenly, with an accent unlike anything he'd ever heard.

"I see you are now awake." His tone was measured and precise, though not unfriendly. He seemed to expect a reply, but Terakiel was unable to bring words to his mouth. "Do you speak the common tongue?"

"Y-yes," Terakiel stammered, his voice still hoarse from disuse.

"Excellent," the young man replied. "Now, do you suppose you could tell me why you have brought me here?"

Lebaron (Day 75)

I've been burying myself under the covers of my bed the last few days due to how cold it is. As a result, I haven't been in the mood to do much of anything. I've been playing Pokemon Y infrequently, but otherwise I've spent my time watching LoL streams or Netflix. There are several amateur tournaments going on in the LoL scene right now, such as the NACL, ALCS, and the NESL pro series. I'm interested in how Quantic, ggLA, Complexity, and the new Curse lineup are doing.

It's fascinating following all of the pro and semi-pro LoL teams. I've never been much of a sports fan but I feel like I finally understand the fascination--because now there's a dedicated scene revolving around a game I enjoy, even though it's not an athletic one. I enjoy seeing the competition, the analysis, and even learning about the players themselves. For example, Complexity is a team of talented players. They also happen to be really nice, personable guys. This makes me like them quite a bit more and want them to succeed.

I'm hoping the LCS this season will be more exciting. Last split was complete domination by Cloud 9 (with only 3 losses if I recall correctly) and every other team just lagging behind. Velocity in particular seemed outclassed; they were unable to take a game from just about anyone but CLG. It's extremely unlikely they'll make it into the next split. I'm hoping we'll see some combination of Coast, Curse, ggLA, Quantic, and Complexity.

Coast has been dominating the challenger circuit recently so it's unlikely they won't make their way back into the LCS despite a somewhat mediocre showing last split. It's hard to say if they're shaping up or if they just outclass the amateur teams by a significant margin. Complexity is looking similarly strong and weren't able to make it into the LCS last split thanks to the now dominant Cloud 9. It's unlikely they'll face similarly tough competition this time so I expect to see them make it as well.

Curse, ggLA, and Quantic are question marks for me. Curse still hasn't had a lot of practice with their radically redefined roster, though individually each player is strong. Since Cop rejoined the roster he's been playing absolutely out of his mind. Quas is still relatively untested but his heavy damage Shen build was phenomenal against Velocity in their most recent match. Voyboy is now playing mid lane primarily, where he can exercise his mastery over assassins. His performance on more traditional mid laners is somewhat more questionable--his Orianna hasn't impressed me yet. IWillDominate seems good but somewhat inconsistent, much like his predecessor Saintvicious. Zekent, of course, is a very solid support player.

GGLA is a very interesting team as well. They seem to have a great deal of potential but I can't imagine they could compete against Complexity or Coast just yet. All of the players are individually strong, but they have issues with synergy and closing out games. Quantic has similar issues despite being showered with hype upon their reveal. They're the first team based in North America to have entirely Korean players, including Locodoco and Suno who have been on a couple successful Korean teams. Again, they too seem strong, but inconsistent.

Deficit (Day 74)

I'm getting into the tail end of Pokemon Y after having just acquired my sixth badge. I'm still enjoying the game but I'm somewhat disappointed with the lack of new Pokemon to try. A lot of the new Pokemon are actually really cool so I can't complain there, but there's only 69 new Pokemon in the roster. Pokemon Black/White debuted with 150 new Pokemon, for comparison. Apparently a lot of the fans didn't like that the Pokemon you encountered were all new, so they decided to go a different route with this generation. Personally, I liked the way B/W handled it better.

Still, a lot of the new Pokemon are indeed pretty cool. The Fairy type is thematically interesting, but I'm not sure how I feel about the critters that fall under the category. I'm experimenting with using Florges, which essentially resembles a humanoid flower. I haven't decided how I feel about it yet, but its statistically strong so I'll give it a shot. If I can help it I want to try to stick with only Pokemon from the new generation; I feel like there are just enough new ones to choose from for two (or maybe three) playthroughs with just the new ones. Whether or not I'm willing to delete my save data to do that remains to be seen.

I guess I'll have to wait and see what kind of postgame stuff is available. I've always really liked the idea of playing against other people online but I haven't ever actually done it a whole lot. It might be a good idea for me to try it while the game is still super popular, especially since EV training is now much less tedious than before. In previous games you had to track down specific Pokemon to get EVs (effort values) that would raise your base stats. It was a painstaking, hours-long process for each individual Pokemon. You can now accomplish the same thing with some fairly easy minigames on the touch screen--or, if you prefer, you can do it the old-fashioned way.

Here's my current party:

• Timur the Chesnaught (Lv. 43 - Grass/Fighting)
• Mahin the Malamar (Lv. 42 - Dark/Psychic)
• Samira the Talonflame (Lv. 39 - Fire/Flying)
• Cordelia the Floette (Lv. 25 - Fairy)
• Erevu the Skrelp (Lv. 36 - Poison/Water)
• Siegfried the Doubledge (Lv. 42 - Steel/Ghost)

If I end up liking Florges, this'll probably be the lineup I use against the Elite Four. Assuming I can get a Ground-type move on one of these guys, it has perfect type coverage because Malamar already had Thunderbolt to use against Flying types. Chesnaught has the potential to learn some Ground moves but his kit seems really solid as it is. Leech Seed + Spiky Shield just seems too annoying to get rid of, and then he has Seed Bomb for Grass STAB and Low Sweep for Fighting STAB. Eventually I'll get more powerful STAB moves but that still leaves no room for Bulldoze or Earthquake.

Perpetual Dawn (Day 73)

There was a swirling, glittering light in the midst of interminable blackness. It was the same kind of feeling you might have when rubbing tightly closed eyes. It was that barely perceptible orb of light dwarfed by overwhelming shadows. It was just out of reach, but all too necessary to grasp. The wind howled mournfully, but soundlessly. Its cry was drowned out by the darkness. Time had no meaning in this place; it was impossible to tell how long it lasted or if indeed it stretched on for eternity.

Craggy, knife-like mountains sprung up out of the darkness into horrifying focus, their contours rendered in sharp monochromatic relief. The wind howled, now all too audibly as it snaked its way through the gray fog hugging the mountainside. Icy black trees exploded from the obsidian earth, showering the surroundings with dust. Meanwhile, the moon materialized in the immutable dusk of the sky, full and majestic, showering the black world with pure white moonlight. Stars blinked into existence one by one, decorating the sky with constellations. 

The black ground moved as if the entire planet's rotation was spinning at a terrifying speed. The mountains and trees blurred into an indistinct stream of gray. As the dark world performed its chaotic dance, dashes of color began to streak into existence. There were varying shades of green and blue that joined the palette, followed closely by countless brown hues. It started as a jumble of colors but gradually, as everything stopped spinning, the colors saturated the landscape. The blackness seeped out of the trees and the ground, evaporated from the mountains. Rich browns and verdant greens suffused the environment as everything began to come into true focus.

The wind died down and the frigid cold from before began to lessen, replaced slowly by a growing heat. It was pleasant at first, a temporary refuge from the terrible cold. Soon, however, the heat grew in intensity until it was like a blazing fire burning inside one's body. His hands were on the planar stone still, as they always had been. As they always would be. 

It was not always like this. Something was different. Something had changed. It wasn't supposed to hurt like this. Before he had always been uneasy and even queasy when traversing the black world, but now. . .This was different. His hands on the stone were different and the pain was. . .terrible. Through the fire consuming him he was dimly aware of a ring of trees surrounding the clearing. This was not right. Something had gone wrong. He'd been assured everything was going to go smoothly, as always. But this was not right.

The knife edge of panic poked at his subconscious and he felt the wild urge to pull his hands free from the planar stone. But he couldn't do that. He had always been there and always would be. It was not his place to do so. But why not? Why could he not be the master of his own bodies? 

Bodies? 

Deny the Absolute (Day 72)

Although momentarily lost in thought, Terakiel couldn't help but realize that it had gotten very cold. It was colder now than when he awoke. He found himself shivering uncontrollably as the momentary warmth drained from his flesh. He surveyed his surroundings one more time until his eyes came to rest once more on the monument before him. To his surprise, the silvery structure was glowing. It was unmistakable. Its featureless surface was emitting a ghostly blue light.

Gingerly, Terakiel reached out to touch the surface again but jerked it back when it came in contact. The monument was now scorching hot, but the heat did not radiate outwards even an inch. One moment he could feel the frigidly cold air on his fingertips and then it was as if he'd plunged his hand directly into a fire. He cast a glance at his fingers to make sure they hadn't been burned away, but there was no immediate evidence of the structure having had any effect on him. He could no longer feel the heat; the sensation dissipated as soon as he pulled back.

The cold was almost unbearable now as the shivering man hugged himself tightly in a vain attempt to get blood circulating through his veins. Was this it? Was this how he as going to die? Would he freeze to death before this mysterious artifact with no knowledge behind the purpose of his fate? He acknowledged that he deserved punishment for his actions but he was bitterly regretful that he might never understand what was really happening.

Terakiel's curiosity to witness what might be unfolding was overwhelming, but he wasn't ready to freeze to death. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the monument and pushed himself through the strand of trees at the edge of the clearing, but the sheer cold had not let up. The water droplets clinging to his arms had crystallized into solid ice. They felt like hundreds of tiny knives pricking at his exposed flesh. As he muscled his way through trees now encrusted with icicles, he realized the temperature was not rising. If anything, it was getting worse. Was the whole of Lakara now a punishing wintry wasteland?

His breaths clearly visible before him, he stopped to consider his options. He could keep running and tax his body even more, or he could return to the moment. The pain of touching the monument had been excruciating, but it was very hot and seemed to cause no lasting damage. Terakiel figured that it might be the only way he could survive. Reluctantly, fear quickening his pulse, he turned around and rushed back toward the clearing.

Before he could travel five steps, he skidded into a patch of ice and fell unceremoniously to the ground. Stifling a groan of pain, he forced himself to his feet again, assuming a slower but steady pace. Carefully, he navigated his way through the trees, keeping a careful lookout for patches of ice lurking in the previously dew-soaked grasses. Before long he had made it back to the clearing, which was as excruciatingly cold as ever.

Involuntarily shivering, Terakiel stumbled toward the monument, now glowing so intensely it was difficult to look at head on. Before he could talk himself out of what he was about to do, he thrust out his hands and placed them directly on the structure. The ensuing pain was indescribable. It flowed through him like an invading army, violently assaulting his senses. White-hot tendrils of fire snaked through his body as the monument, illuminated in brilliant blue light, began to emit an urgent high whine. The shriek pierced Terakiel's eardrums but the pain crushing his body made it impossible to register.

For what seemed like an eternity his hands were merged with the monument. He couldn't have pulled them away if he tried. It felt as if he were being sucked into its featureless surface, the intense blue glow now overwhelming his field of vision. He was warm now, warmer than he'd ever been in his life. He couldn't feel the frigid chill in the air any longer. All that existed was the intense fiery heat emanating from the structure and flowing through his bodies.

He had one final thought before blackness overwhelmed him. Bodies?

Memorial (Day 71)

--

Terakiel was nudged awake by a chill caressing his cheek. Bleary-eyed, he could tell that there was now light to see by, though his surroundings were partially obscured by a thick fog. Water droplets clung tenaciously to his bare arms as he forced himself to his feet. He could feel the chill in the air to his bones; he found himself wishing he had something which which he could cover himself. The bloodsoaked length of cloth encircling his midsection was ripped and tattered beyond repair but he chose to leave it where it was. Although no longer salvageable as an article of clothing, it was at least some small resistance to the cold.

He realized suddenly what should have been obvious as soon as he awoke. The fire he'd made the night before was gone. Shivering, he fixed his gaze on the charred log a few feet away from the silvery structure. No embers remained, but the log was still completely intact. Instinctively, Terakiel knew that that particular fire required no wood for fuel, but what would snuff such a force out so suddenly? The sudden change of temperature was surely responsible for interrupting his slumber, he realized.

The young man spun around in a circle slowly, examining the clearing as thoroughly as possible. What was he looking for? The fire died, as all fires die. It was unreasonable to expect that it would burn brightly forever, whatever the source of its power. He cast a sidelong glance at his left hand and swallowed. He understood so very little about what terrible things he was capable of. It terrified him more than words could say.

He found himself wondering about his brother. Had he come through this way as well? What if he had come across this monument and puzzled over its origins. He could have set up camp in that very clearing. He imagined for a moment that he set up camp and built a fire of his own, dependable flint and steel at hand. He'd have the fire going within minutes and food not long after. His brother was a great shot at the bow; Terakiel was certain he'd have no issue catching prey.

It was a silly thought. Deklath had likely plotted a superior route through Lakara, avoiding, among other things, tumbling down a steep incline into a tree and passing out. He'd probably discovered countless fascinating treasures on his way through Lakara but it was unlikely he'd taken the same path. Terakiel wondered if he'd managed to make it through to the Coramni Plains. Would he have tried to return to Tombolin? As vast and treacherous as Lakara was, who would want to traverse its entirety alone more than once?

Deklath had no reason to return. There was nothing for him in Tombolin and everything for him out in the wide world, or at least so he'd have Terakiel believe. He had been determined to find the truth. Terakiel genuinely hoped that Deklath had found what he'd been looking for. There had never been a man with as steadfast a spirit. The man's heart sank once more as he thought he might never see his brother again. Equally discouraging, however, was the thought of having to face him in light of what he had done.

Trembling in the early morning cold, Terakiel reached out to touch the monument. As usual, it was brimming with warmth. He felt the heat from the structure surge into his limbs, revitalizing him. He suddenly felt much better. Although he could not make up for what he had done, he could stand up and face the day. He could face his destiny with as much courage as his brother had. As grim as his fate might seem, the mystery of what lay further into Lakara kept him moving. He was no longer running. He was far enough gone now that no one would ever find him. He kept moving now because he wanted to know what was out there, just like Deklath.

Immutable Dusk (Day 70)

--

"Haven't you ever wondered what you might find beyond the woods?" A male voice, far away. "No one really knows the truth, Brother. Lakarans could easily be as much a myth as the deities worshiped by the First Priests."

The boy at his side did not reply, but he looked troubled as he cast his gaze to the endless sea of trees before him. The older boy continued, an undercurrent of restlessness in his tone. "None of us really know what's out there. Some of us may think we know, but how can you believe something you've not seen with your own eyes? Why are we so complacent, Brother? There's a whole other world out there waiting to be explored."

The younger boy ran his fingers through his tousled mop of red hair nervously. "B-but you're not the first to have these thoughts, Brother. Others have gone out there, as deep into the woods as they can. . ." The older boy, his face an unreadable mask, remained silent. He clearly expected his younger brother to finish his thought.

"I think I must know what you imply. . . but why don't you speak plainly so that I can be sure?" He did not break his gaze on his brother, but his expression remained neutral.

The younger boy swallowed, but after a moment he spoke up. "You know--the others, I mean. They. . ."

"They never returned. I know that as well as you, as well as anyone in this forsaken place. Why do you think they didn't return? Perhaps because what they found beyond Lakara was better than what we have here. Perhaps because they did not prepare adequately for their journey and befell a harsher fate. Both of these outcomes are possible, Brother, but--" His neutral expression suddenly became very serious. "But I have faith. I do not believe the First Priests' fantastic tales."

Silence fell on the two brothers and they looked out to the sea of trees once more. Truth be told, the younger boy imagined what might be lurking in their depths himself. He'd traveled those woods with his brother, his father, and his mother too many times to count. Never had they ventured too far, but in his lifetime he'd never once encountered anything that he would describe as supernatural or otherworldly. Maybe the Lakarans really were a myth fabricated to keep the citizens of Tombolin from straying too far from their home.

The First Priests had established Tombolin countless generations before for reasons that were all but a mystery. According to the elders they had wanted to be closer to nature, to live amongst nature--but what else was there? The trees, the ground, the sky--it was all nature. The wording had always been a complete mystery to the boy, and if his recollection was correct, he'd never been given a satisfying explanation. Not from his father nor his mother and certainly not from any of the village elders. No one seemed to understand the motivation of the First Priests. Why then were their words held in such high esteem?

"Father will never let you go."

"I know."

Malachite (Day 69)

Pokemon XY spoilers follow.

I'm still making incredibly slow progress in this game! Some of the new Pokemon designs I've encountered are actually really cool. I recently added Honedge to my party, which is a Steel/Ghost type that is literally a floating, sentient sword. I love the concept behind it and I think it's the first Pokemon with that type combination. It's not necessarily as strong defensively as a pure Steel type would be, but thematically it definitely fits. I haven't been able to find a lot of information about the kind of moves it eventually learns, but according to what I have been able to find, it has ridiculously high offense once it gets to its final evolution.

I'm still trying to internalize the ridiculously complicated interaction between the different types. Of course, I've played at least one game from every generation since the beginning, but there are long stretches of time where I'm not playing and my memory fails me. Generation VI further complicates the type chart with this new Fairy type.

Off the top of my head, Fairy type moves are super effective against Dragon, Dark, and Fighting. Having another type that is effective against Dragon is really interesting because Dragon types have historically been statistical powerhouses with few easily accessible weaknesses. In the past, they were only weak to Dragon and Ice while resisting several common types like Fire, Grass, and Water. This presented some interesting problems. Ice types are notoriously terrible defensive Pokemon, possessing weaknesses to common types like Rock and Fighting while having very close to no resistances. As such, the best way to deal with dragons was to teach Ice type moves to non-Ice Pokemon, forgoing the 1.5x same-type attack bonus, but still exploiting the 2x bonus for hitting super effectively.

Fairy types, however, are completely immune to Dragon-type moves and are super effective against them! Only time will tell if these Pokemon are a truly effective counter. I've only seen maybe one or two Fairy type moves so far so I don't know what the movepool looks like. Similarly, I'm not sure if many statistically strong Fairy types exist. I'm interested to see if Flabebe's final evolution is strong as I have one in my party right now.

Current roster:

• Timur the Quilladin (Grass/Lv 22)
• Combusken (Fire/Fighting/Lv 24)
• Valara the Wartortle (Water/Lv 21)
• Siegfried the Honedge (Steel/Ghost/Lv 18)
• Cordelia the Flabebe (Fairy/Lv 16)
• Athos the Espurr (Psychic/Lv 13)

Stanlow (Day 68)

Pokemon XY Spoilers follow.

I downloaded Pokemon Y the night before it released on the Nintendo 3DS eShop, but I didn't get a chance to play it until the following morning because I passed out. Already, just a single day after its release, I've heard of people who have rushed through and finished the game already. I find that kind of approach appalling; I prefer to take my time with games and actually enjoy them instead of just getting it over with as soon as possible. Granted, there have been times in the past when I've been so engrossed with a new game that I played through it quickly, but it really depends on the kind of game we're talking about.

With the Pokemon series, there's always a lot of stuff to do as you go along. There are Pokemon to catch, quests to undertake, training to do, and minigames to play. I like to catch as many Pokemon as possible and experiment with different combinations for my party. It's just infinitely more fun for me that way. One of the guys on my Twitter feed finished the game in about 9 hours; I just would not have fun with that playstyle, definitely not on my first time through.

As for me, I've been taking frequent breaks while I play. I only have one badge so far and I've already cycled through several different groups of Pokemon. The graphics are pretty much exactly what I've been hoping the series would go to for years. It's in 3D but still very colorful and bright. It's really entertaining to see all these Pokemon that I've been familiar with for years rendered in full 3D--in a main-series game. The animations are pretty simplistic, which is to be expected, but every little creature moves around in unique ways and have a lot of character. Bunnelby, for instance, bashes his foes with his oversized ears.

I haven't gotten much experience with any of the game's touted new features yet. I'm a long way away from Mega Evolutions, even though I have Torchic and Squirtle in my party with their respective mega stones. I honestly don't even know how that works yet but I'm sure I'll write about it later. I just put a Fairy type into my roster for the sole purpose of evolving it for the Pokedex, but I'm not familiar with what types it's strong/weak against, other than being a supposed counter to Dragon types. The roller skates are really awesome, though; I assume they've replaced the bicycle from previous generations. By using the thumb stick you can ride around at high speeds and move in all 8 cardinal directions.

I think every time I make one of these posts I'm going to make a record of my roster. For now, it is:

• Timur the Quilladin (Grass - Tier 2 Kalos starter)
• Valara the Wartortle (Water - Tier 2 Kanto starter)
• Combusken (Fire/Fighting - Tier 2 Hoenn starter)
• Samira the Fletchinder (Fire/Flying)
• Cordelia the Flabébé (Fairy)
• Pedra the Bunnelby (Normal)

As powerful as Blaziken is, I'm most likely going to ditch him after I check out his Mega Evolution. For one thing, I hate that I can't rename him and also he's probably going to make the game too easy. With his ability Speed Boost I'll be able to sweep through everything with ease--and his type coverage is redundant anyway, since Quilladin evolves into a Grass/Fighting type and Fletchinder is Fire/Flying.

Invisible Giants (Day 67)

--

The fire before him roared as brightly as ever, its hot tendrils tickling the darkening sky. It showed no sign of dying, even as it devoured the length of wood serving as its fuel. The young man wondered if it would ever go out. Perhaps it would only grow until it engulfed the clearing itself, erasing any evidence he'd ever been there.

As he stared into those ghostly flames, he clutched the sturdy stick from before, on which a charred rabbit carcass was skewered. Though thoroughly cooked and quite edible, he'd eaten very sparingly. Under normal circumstances he would not have been able to contain his hunger, but the rabbit meat did little to sate the terrible emptiness in his stomach. It was like forcing poison down his throat; he ate only that which was necessary to survive. He couldn't enjoy it. He didn't want to enjoy it.

Flames danced in front of him, casting shadows over his pallid features, melding with the grime streaking his cheeks. He wanted to cast himself into that fire and accept his punishment. It would solve little, but it would put an end to his suffering. The First Priests of lore suggested that there was another life waiting beyond death, but the young man believed none of that. If his suspicious were correct, the end of life was much like the beginning--nothingness. Only a precious few days before, the young man was appalled at such an existential idea, even if it was what he truly believed. But now, he imagined it was the only way he'd ever find comfort.

As cowardly as he felt his retreat from Tombolin was, he did not truly believe he could choose to end his own life. He held onto hope that his journey into the Lakara Wood was not just a death wish. Just because he no longer belonged among his family and friends, that did not mean that he could not find another way of life. He was an adult now, and like his brother, he should be able to strike out on his own. Beyond the woods surely there was a place he could call home. A place where he could be born anew.

Despite being unable to enjoy his meal, he noted with some satisfaction that strength was returning to his body, slowly but surely. Perhaps tomorrow he could strike out beyond the clearing and finally reach the edge of Lakara Wood. Being unable to discover the purpose of the strange gray structure still stung, but he reckoned he could not stay in one spot forever. Although there was a source of water nearby, food was scarce. Just capturing the rabbit had been an hours-long ordeal in itself that he was not looking forward to repeating.

It might be a gamble to continue on in the hopes of finding a better location, but he couldn't forget that he had a secondary goal beyond just surviving. He wanted to make it out of those woods and make it on his own. He'd always hoped he'd be able to one day track his brother down and that he'd be proud of him. He felt an intense pang of guilt as he gazed at the unnatural flames again. He would probably never see him or anyone else he knew ever again. If he did make it out of these woods, he wouldn't be the same person. He would be born anew.

The young man rose to his feet, still not breaking his gaze on the flickering flames. "You are a part of me," he whispered breathlessly. "but I do not have to give in to you any longer."

The flames, as bright and hot as ever, had no reply for the young man. "Tomorrow I shall be born anew," he continued to no one in particular. "When first I awake I will no longer be the man I was. Tonight I cast myself into this fire and emerge as a new man." He paused, as if unsure of his next words. "My name. . .is Terakiel."

Constants Are Changing (Day 66)

Some of the dwellings in Tombolin were built into the hills themselves, burrowing underground into interconnected communities. There were taverns, homes, and other places of business in these subterranean passageways. As such, the village was larger that it might first appear. Above ground was a more pastoral farming community while the underground was a thriving marketplace, where craftsmen and peddlers sold their wares. Serus Thespid was one such craftsman, who maintained a smithy in the aptly-named Underground.

Serus was a large, heavily muscled man, his thinning mop of hair more gray than red, his wild beard streaked with soot more often than not. His features were grim and angular, as if cut from stone. As he lifted his hammer to strike the length of metal laid out on his table, it was like watching solid rock violently separate from a cliff side. His wiry frame wound taut, as if constantly prepared to spring into terrifying action. He was very serious about his work and celebrated for his skill at his craft. The sound of his hammer on steel echoed through the underground corridors endlessly.

Serus Thespid's smithy was located in a secluded corner of the Underground, far away from the hustle and bustle of the central marketplace. Those who required his services knew where to find him as his work spoke for itself. The blacksmith, reclusive as he was, required the relative solitude to perfect his craft. For many years he had been the primary smith of Tombolin and as far as he was concerned it would remain that way--until he passed his skills on to his son, as his father had done to him. It was a time-honored tradition for the Thespid line that stretched back to the days of the First Priests. Or so he was told; Serus had his doubts about how the village had been founded. Stories have a way of being distorted with the retelling.

Still the smithy was choked with the sound of the hammer striking steel. The blacksmith's current task was the silvery blade of a long sword, a recent commission. Weapons of war were a common request for Thespid, despite Tombolin's lack of conflict with outside forces. As secluded as the village was, it very rarely saw visitors of any kind, much less armies advancing to occupy its soil. Still, stories had been passed down since the time of the First Priests that recounted the exploits of the terrible creatures of Lakara. It was foretold that these beasts would one day seek to reclaim the great clearing on which Tombolin now rested.

These creatures, dubbed only as Lakarans in the local lore, had been used as a symbol for countless decades. They were the object of every fairy tale, every scary story told to children. While those stories were tales of fantasy, many villagers still believed in the existence of these Lakarans and were determined to prepare for their return. The price of not being vigilant was death, so it was said. As such, young men and women of the village were uniformly taught the ways of war, as they themselves were taught by their forebears.

Thespid put little stock in these tales. The First Priests had a lot of strange beliefs that did not seem compatible with the way the world worked in his mind. It was not commonly believed that great powerful men in the sky were responsible for dictating the fates of mere mortals on the ground (as the Priests believed) so why then should it be believed that the Lakarans were real as well? In his fifty-odd years of life he'd seen not a whit of evidence of these beasts, unless the First Priests had confused deer and wolves for mystical beings. Serus had spent a lot of time in the Lakara Wood and had traveled deeper than most. There was nothing unusual out there, and if his suspicions were correct, there was likely nothing unusual on the outside of it either.

In his younger days he'd fancied the idea of traveling beyond Lakara and investigating the lands beyond, perhaps sighting the fabled Coramni Plains the First Priests had evidently traveled through to get to what became Tombolin. Duty to his craft and family superseded his desires and he never followed through on his ambition. He was becoming an old man now and imagined that he would never see what lay beyond those woods. Wistful for a moment, he paused with his hammer in mid air, but then he grunted and continued. It mattered not. There was no use pining over the decisions he'd made in the past. It was his responsibility as a man to provide for his family.

So Did We (Day 65)

It's starting to look like I'm going to finally start playing Throne of Bhaal after all! I loaded it up earlier today and started playing, and felt like I might actually be able to get back into the swing of things. Assuming the release of Pokemon X and Y doesn't completely derail my attentions, I might be talking about it a little more over the next couple of days. Already I can feel myself getting sucked into the little plots that it sets up for you right away as you land in the walled city of Saradush, under attack by the army of Yaga-Sura.

It really is too bad that Icewind Dale didn't grab my attention. I would love to be able to say I've cmopleted all of the classic Infinity Engine games--a task I still haven't given up on completing. Planescape: Torment is definitely worth a playthrough. The only reason I haven't finished it in the past is because I've run into a slew of technical issues on my PC. I played it on a laptop for some time but its a piece of junk and overheats frequently. Hopefully I'll be able to work out those issues someday and play through it for real. In the case of IWD, I think I would be able to stomach it in a multiplayer session. It would be a lot more fun that way.

My original plan (from when I first started replaying Baldur's Gate) was to move on to Baldur's Gate II (which I finished) and the expansion (which I'm tackling right now) and then to play the two IWD titles. Since that's not going to happen anytime soon, there's still the possibility of picking up Neverwinter Nights, which I've actually never played. I've heard that the base game isn't too impressive, but it really picks up once you hit the expansions. I'd like to play NWN2 as well, but I'm not sure how well the game will run with integrated video. I'll have to do some research on that, but as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself. If things proceed as they have been over the past few months, I'll progress through Throne of Bhaal pretty slowly and it's completely possible I won't be in the mood for another similar game.

Even as penniless as I am now, I certainly don't lack options. My main problem seems to be in motivation; for some reason I can't just pick up a game and enjoy it for what it is. I lose interest a lot even if I like the game. There are countless examples of games like this in my backlog. Off the top of my head there is Lost Odyssey, a fantastic traditional JRPG for Xbox 360 that I stopped playing on the fourth and final disc. I really enjoyed the game; it struck me as a modern interpretation of SNES era Final Fantasy. The characters were interesting, the plot engrossing, and I thought Kaim's dream sequences (represented as segments of a novel) were some of the best writing I'd seen in recent video games.

So why did I stop playing it? I lost interest, for reasons that are a mystery to me. I frequently have a short attention span, even when it comes to things that I am passionate about. When it comes to things I'm not interested in, it's a titanic struggle even to focus. But sometimes, I really get in the zone. I'm very seldom aware of what brings it on, but when it happens, I embrace it. For an indeterminate amount of time, I'll become a being of supreme focus. Games are more enjoyable, I comprehend what I read better, and I'm more able to effectively communicate. The fog lifts, and I can see where I'm going. And this is not just about video games, or even just things I do for fun. It applies to everything.

I've talked about this state of mind before on this blog, but I'm still in the dark about what brings it on. In the past I've speculated that exercise helps create that feeling, but I've come to realize there may not be a correlation there. Exercise frequently makes me feel good, but it doesn't always help me concentrate. In fact, sometimes it makes it harder to think. The intensity of the workout is probably a factor there--but really, it all comes down to my mindset. If I'm feeling good when I set out on a brisk walk, there's a good chance I'll feel better by the time I return. If I'm not feeling well at all, the walk may just make me tired and irritable, and feel like a waste of time.

Even so, it would probably be a good idea to start walking again. I've stopped leaving my house for the most part. I'll admit it, I'm depressed and I'm not being proactive about getting better. I'm not doing anyone any good with my actions, least of all myself. Walking won't magically solve anything, but it'll get me out of the house. It'll get me some exercise I sorely need. And maybe, just maybe, it'll help me clear my head a little.

(Man, some of my entries have some pretty severe cohesion issues. But that's okay.)

Light Chaser (Day 64)

Well, I finally finished Disgaea 4. I'd really like to tackle some postgame content but I am ridiculously burned out on it after spending almost a month playing it. Grinding for levels on the same handful of maps ran out of novelty quite some time ago. I think I only continued playing so I could actually finish it. It's not a bad game by any stretch of the imagination but I don't find the gameplay satisfying enough to make up for the shallow (although cute) plot and characters. Still, I'll probably play Disgaea D2 whenever I have funds available; strategy RPGs are few and far between.

Pokemon X and Y come out in three days. I'll probably be spending most of my gaming time on it for the foreseeable future, but in the meantime maybe I could revisit something I didn't finish? Throne of Bhaal is the obvious choice but I'm not sure I'm completely ready to revisit the Infinity Engine. Catherine is another option; I find the storyline in that game very interesting and involving, but the puzzle-solving gameplay is fiendishly difficult for me. It's an extremely well-designed game but I lack an aptitude for it.

What else is there? There's a whole slew of Wii games, emulated games, and maybe one or two Xbox 360 games I could revisit. I like the idea of finally playing through the original versions of Final Fantasy and Final Fantasy II but really only for the historical perspective. Lufia 2 is another RPG for the SNES that I stopped playing abruptly. It wasn't bad but I'd just finished playing its inferior predecessor and was kind of sick of the franchise. It's been several months, but maybe I could pick up where I left off.

I think I might go through a series of games I haven't played in awhile (and maybe try a few new ones) and make a decision on something to play. If I like it enough, I can play it concurrently with Pokemon. That sounds like a good idea.

Over Root and Thorn (Day 63)

--

Tombolin was a secluded hamlet hemmed in on all sides by the Lakara Wood, its people more or less oblivious to the comings and goings of the people past the forest. The people couldn't exactly be described as xenophobic, necessarily. Interacting with outsiders wasn't something they actively tried to avoid, but it still very rarely happened. The woods engulfing the surrounding territories was a storied, magical place to the village's residents and in the many years of the village's existence, it had never been fully explored. Only the most adventurous of souls made it all the way through to the village; it hadn't happened in many years as far as anyone in Tombolin knew.

According to local lore, the village had been founded by a group of priests who wished to live in nature. Ironically, the deity they worshiped had been lost to the passage of time and the villagers were now mostly secular. What had remained, however, was a deep reverence for the surrounding woods, with more than a touch of fear. Tales of fearsome creatures residing in the depths of the forest had been passed down for generations. The newer generations treated these tales less seriously, but still declined to travel too far into the woods.

Adventurers of days past, as infrequently as they showed up, brought with them tales of bustling cities, powerful magicians, and bizarre creatures that lived beyond the plains. Every brave soul that had battled their way through Lakara seemed to have something different to say about the world that lay outside--and in fact, they contradicted each other. The locals, having no frame of reference, knew not who to trust, so the general consensus became a general distrust for adventurers. As a result, there was nothing about the outside world that was commonly agreed upon.

Lakara was a land of rolling hills and miles and miles of unbroken forest. Somewhere in the deepest depths of that forest was Tombolin, striving to coexist with the trees surrounding it. The priests that had founded the village so long ago sought to harm as few trees as possible when constructing the village, and the tradition had continued to the present day, with dozens and dozens of marvelously constructed stone buildings dotting the landscape. The oldest structures in the village were enigmatic, beautiful buildings of unbroken stone, while the newer ones were somewhat crude in comparison. The ways of the craftsmen of the past had been lost to time.

Giving Up the Ghost (Day 62)

After taking a few more satisfying gulps of water from the stream, the shirtless man set to the task of gathering the necessary materials for building a fire. He had been shown how to build a fire without the use of flint and steel but he'd never been able to use the method successfully. He was worried that he might end up wasting a lot of time and energy on a fruitless task. Suddenly he was more doubtful than ever about setting up camp in the clearing, but it didn't stop him from gathering as much wood as he could carry.

Some time later, he'd gathered what he felt was an appropriate amount of firewood and returned to the clearing. His eyes were once again drawn to the monument, but it stubbornly continued to safeguard its secrets from him. He set about preparing the fire by laying out a foundation of thick, dry branches. It had been difficult finding wood that wasn't still damp from the previous night's rain, but there were so many trees in the area that he eventually found what he was looking for. On top of the branches he laid down some smaller limbs and twigs. Finally, he set aside a small pile of bark and leaves for tinder.

With some apprehension, he laid out one final branch, which he stripped of bark as best he could. There was only so much he could do with his bare hands, especially as bruised and battered as they were. It had been the straightest, flattest piece of wood he could find. He was skeptical that it would serve his purposes, but he had little other choice. Hoping that his memories of what he'd been taught weren't failing him, he carefully gouged out a groove in the middle of the limb with a flat rock he'd collected earlier from the stream. After spreading the tinder around the gouge in the wood, he grabbed the thin, sturdy stick that lay beside him and began spinning it between his palms while applying pressure to the hole in the wood.

It was a slow, laborious process. His brother, adventurous as he was, impressed him many years ago by birthing fire with the technique, and even he experienced great difficulty in doing so. At the time he was unsure why he would even do it. After all, he had flint and steel available to him. He had been the kind of person that felt the need to be prepared for every eventuality. He was thankful for a moment that his brother had taken the time to show him how to do this, even if so far his efforts were proving completely fruitless.

Time stretched on eternally as the young man frantically spun the stick between his palms, and not a single spark flew. His sore hands ached even more painfully than before, but he dared not stop. He was sure that he was generating heat, and any minute now, a spark would fly and ignite the tinder, which he could then transfer to the kindling on the pile of wood. Miserably, he realized that even then he would have to hunt for his food, which was another adventure all its own.

Still more time passed, and his arms were screaming for relief. He grit his teeth and froze his expression into a grimace of determination. It was his fault that he was in this position. He had to take responsibility and not give up. He couldn't just keep walking with no destination. He had to learn how to live. He might never find civilization, might never find a soul who could help him. As always, he had no one to rely on but himself. He'd learned that so many years before but it had never rung so true until that day.

The man let out a shriek of frustration but still he applied pressure to the gouge in the wood, his muscles floating in a sea of white hot lava. The pain was impossible to ignore now, so he gave up trying. He let it all in. He let the pain flow through him but still he pushed himself harder, barely noticing the warm trickle of blood on his palms. He was so hungry now, as hungry as he had been earlier that morning. He wanted to release all of the pain built up in his body in one wave of frustration. He wanted to toss his head to the sky and scream. He felt the cold, sickly chill return to his body, felt it curdle his blood.

Before he could even consider what strange chemical reaction was occurring in his body, an unearthly bolt of violet light erupted from his gnarled hands, superheating the sturdy stick and igniting not just the tinder but the entire branch. The man pulled his hands away in shock and pain as a pillar of flame leapt from the wood. Simultaneously, the sickly chill drained from his limbs and all that was left was the extreme pain still arcing through his muscles and especially his palms. The man fell to his back and wept, momentarily oblivious to the still raging fire only a few feet away from him.

As Fire Swept Clean the Earth (Day 61)

He wasn't accomplishing anything by entering into a battle of wills with the featureless monument before him. He had every reason to suspect that he'd be the first to lose his nerve considering he was in a contest with an ostensibly inanimate object, peculiar warmth aside. Despite his fatigued muscles, he slowly struggled to his feet; he needed to find water, and there was little point in stopping until he did. There was still much left of the day and the structure, though interesting, was doing nothing helpful for him.

The man pushed his way through the strand of trees at the edge of the clearing, groaning inwardly as he did so. He'd been grateful to have a reprieve from densely packed trees, but here he was, weaving his way in and out of them once again, their scraggly branches scratching at his exposed flesh. As he had multiple times that day, he wished that he'd begun his journey with a little more foresight. There had been a considerable amount of rainfall the night before; if he'd thought to do so he could have collected some rainwater in a makeshift container, giving him enough drinking water for a day or two.

Although he'd only been dimly aware of them before, he did notice some small woodland creatures rustling through the tall grasses around him. He was hungry, but still not close to starving. If it came down to it, he might have to capture a small animal for food. Still, water was the more pressing issue at the moment, so he kept walking, paying more attention to his surroundings than usual. He was considering returning to the clearing to make camp if he could find a source of water close enough. He didn't want to hamper his progress, but it was clear that he didn't really have a destination--and very little idea of how close he might be to the edge of the woods. He might as well set up camp somewhere that was reasonably comfortable, as opposed to hunkering down in the middle of a grove of skeletal trees.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, he felt drawn to the silvery monument in the clearing. On the surface, it was unremarkable, but something about it felt so. . .important. Again, he was reminded of the strange warmth he felt when he touched the structure. Maybe if he spent some more time around it he could figure out what purpose it served, if indeed it served any purpose at all. He made a mental promise to himself that he would return to the clearing once he found water--and hopefully food.

After traveling a full circle around the area surrounding the clearing, he finally found a small stream parting the line of trees. It was shallow, with flat rocks clearly visible beneath the surface, but it was more than enough for his purposes. He knelt low to the ground and drank deep of the stream's water, savoring the feel of the cold liquid sliding down his throat. Now that he knew the stream's location, it would be simple to locate it again if he did decide to set up camp in the clearing. His next task was to find food, which in his mind was infinitely more challenging. Not only would he have to catch and kill one of the elusive woodland animals, but he'd have to start a fire as well--no small challenge considering he hadn't thought to bring flint and steel.

Inflammatory Writ (Day 60)

This blog has really become about writing a story, which in a way I really like. On the other hand, though, I wanted to use this as a vehicle to discuss anything that's on my mind. Granted, part of the reason for that was to get into the flow of writing again for the sole purpose of writing fiction like I did back when I was younger... but that doesn't mean that I can't practice writing things that more closely resemble articles. The thing is, I'm unemployed and hilariously broke, so I often don't have a whole lot to talk about. I've been watching a lot of TV series (downloaded and via Netflix) and only playing one or two games.

I'm still playing Disgaea 4 and I'm finally on the final episode. I've really been inching through it because I get burned out on the grindy gameplay if I spend too much time on it. I really do enjoy the game, but I have to take it in small doses sometimes. If I'm in the right mood I can play it for hours, but I haven't been in that mood lately. Once I finish Disgaea (and some of the postgame stuff, maybe), I'm going to move on to the new Pokemon game, which I'm purchasing despite having very little money. I never said I was responsible.

Speaking of the new Pokemon, there's a pokemon that got leaked the other day that is literally a ring of keys. It even has a very modern looking car key hanging from its "body." In the lore, it's apparently a spirit that seeks out objects that remind it of itself (keys) and steals them away for its own, which is kind of interesting. But on the surface, it's a ring of keys and that's pretty silly. Every generation (even the first) has had its fair share of really silly designs, so I can't really complain too much. I'll do what I always do and pick the pokemon that look the coolest and assemble a party of those, ignoring their power level.

If I decide I'm finished with Disgaea before the 12th (which is pretty possible since I'm on the final episode now), I'll need to decide what game I want to play in the interim. The obvious choice is Throne of Bhaal, which I still have yet to officially start. I've played a couple minutes in but for reasons that are not at all apparent to me, I can't seem to get it to hold my interest. It's possible that playing Baldur's Gate and it's expansion and then moving directly on to BGII burned me out on the Infinity Engine. I'm worried though, that if I wait too long, I'll never play through ToB, and I really feel like it deserves to be played. I guess that's why I have a Backloggery though; I'm sure I'll get to it eventually.

I have a lot of other options, though. If I'm not feeling up to playing Throne of Bhaal (and to be honest, it's a pretty good possibility), I might look into some other RPG. I feel like that's what I'm really in the mood for. I'd like something story-driven that emphasizes characters, but I feel like I've played the vast majority of modern RPGs like that, especially the ones that can be acquired for free (or cheap). There are a number of options on the PS2, but unfortunately mine is currently broken. What's worse is that my video card is busted, so I can't emulate them either.

You Could Feel the Sky (Day 59)

He felt like he couldn't just move on after discovering such an unusual object, but what could he do? Its featureless surface was refusing to yield its secrets. Feeling his way along the length of the monument, he couldn't find anything that wasn't perfectly uniform, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some sort of living, breathing creature slumbering in its confines. He couldn't imagine what sort of creature could inhabit it, considering its bizarre shape. It was relatively slender, thinner than any man he knew.

He'd come so far without seeing anything remarkable, and he felt like he'd finally found something important. His bones were tired and his muscled ached terribly. He just wanted some reason to stop. He wanted to feel like he had a destination. He'd finally found something that he knew in his heart was important but as far as he could tell, there was nothing he could do to make it give up its secrets.

The man sunk to his knees, partially because of his weariness but also due in no small part to his frustration. He slid his grimy hands down the surface of the structure once again, noting that none of the dirt rubbed off. Evidently, outside forces were not capable of making an impact on the monument, nature or man. 

"What are you. . .?" His voice was hoarse and ragged, in stark contrast to the voice in his mind's eye. Sadly, the structure did not have an answer for him, at least not immediately. The man fell into a seated position in front of the structure and stared at it intently. After sitting, he had no desire to get to his feet again so he decided to get some much-needed rest. He didn't want to leave the monument; perhaps he could set up camp? Unfortunately he'd not yet found a source of water and wasn't at all confident in his ability to find food. He sighed, and threw himself to the ground, the uneven surface of the clearing somewhat uncomfortable against his lower back wound.

How much longer will I last? 

Burning Off Impurities (Day 58)

He couldn't say how long it took before he reached something resembling a landmark. He might have reached the end of the valley, but it wasn't the sheer wall that he had been expecting. The ground was definitely sloping upward, but through the strand of trees ahead of him, he could just make out. . .something. It was angular, unnatural. It didn't look like something native to the woods so he could only conclude that it was something man-made. Then again, his imagination could just be running away from him. It had been a long time since his tumble and his momentary panic had been replaced by boredom at his unchanging surroundings. Was he just making things up now?

As he drew closer and closer, he had to admit that there was definitely some sort of structure a little further up the hill. It was a dull gray color; it looked metallic, like an old sword thrusting up out of the ground. Soon he could make out more details, but there really wasn't much more to it than that. It was of uniform design with no openings that he could see. It could be some sort of monument, he thought, but what purpose would that serve out here in the middle of the wilderness? He had to be close to civilization for this to be out here.

Finally he came to the top of the small hill and found himself in a clearing ringed by denser woodland. The structure was definitely made of metal and stood at approximately ten feet in height. It was no doubt constructed by men, but there was something otherworldy and eerie about it. It was absolutely perfect in shape. He examined it closely but found no mars or chips anywhere on the surface. He found it hard to believe that such a structure would remain in such good shape for any period of time, especially considering the rainstorm the night before.

There was definitely something special about this particular structure, but the man hadn't the faintest idea what it was doing here. He gave his new surroundings another cursory inspection but his search yielded no meaningful results. As far as he could tell, he was still hemmed in on all sides by trees, denser now than before. He'd thought he was getting closer to the edge of the woods and it had imparted some small amount of hope in him. He had no plans for what he might do once he reached the edge, but it was a milestone he couldn't help but look forward to. Maybe once he saw more than just trees stretching out endlessly before him he'd have a better idea of what to do next. He imagined it would clear his mind.

This monument was a mystery. It was the first thing he'd encountered in his impromptu journey through the Lakara Wood that suggested man had ever set foot in its forbidding depths. As he stared at the unremarkable, featureless surface, he couldn't help but reach out to touch it. It was warm to the touch and almost felt. . .alive. He could almost feel a gentle pulse emanating from beneath the monument's surface. The air was still chill on his bruised flesh. There was definitely something special about this seemingly unremarkable structure.

Forever Close My Eyes (Day 57)

The sun was high in the sky now, relieving somewhat the effects of the air's chill on his battered and bruised body. He'd made good progress across the valley although he had no idea how long it would take to get to the other side, or if even another side existed. For all he knew he'd just stumbled onto a drastic decrease in elevation and he was well on his way to the Coramni Plains. Never in his life had he been so completely lost, both physically and mentally. His continued persistence to keep moving was almost stubborn. As much as he might want to, he refused to just lie down and die.

To his intense displeasure, he found himself more often lost in thought. He didn't want to think about what happened, but if he was going to live on (at least for a little while longer) it was inevitable that he confront his demons. As fresh and raw as his mental wounds were, he wondered if he should make haste in making peace with his actions. His days were numbered; he held no illusions that he had the ability to survive for long periods of time out in the wilderness. He was not an adventurer like his brother. His affinity for literature and art would do him no good here. If he had followed in his brother's footsteps, he might be able to make a comfortable living out here, living off the land. It was a romantic idea, but the man hadn't the faintest idea how to make it happen.

When he had set out, he strode with purpose, but now his gait was aimless and unsure. He was so far away from home now that it seemed pointless to keep running. What was he hoping to find out in the woods? He wasn't so naive as to believe he would find a shelter out in this untamed wilderness, where even animals were sparse. For the first time since departing his home, the man felt the knife edge of panic cutting through his subconscious. As little as he might want to return home, it would have been comforting if he even had the option. But he didn't. He was too far gone now; he was lost. 

Gentle Time (Day 56)

I haven't had time to write an entry yet today because I've been duo queueing LoL with Kyle. We haven't played in quite awhile so I figured I'd specifically set aside the time for it. He's a good friend of mine, but as with all friends, I don't talk to him nearly as often as I should. I'm just a ridiculously solitary person and I'm not good at fostering relationships with other people. It's irritating, because I do want to reach out, but I just find myself withdrawing into myself over and over.

I've had a lot of friends over the years, and I've lost contact with the majority of them. There was my coworker for the first year or so of Walmart who I talked to every day. We played WoW together and really got along and I guess I got the impression that we were going to be friends for a long time. Eventuallly, he quit. He reassured me that he'd be coming in all the time to chat, but it never happened. I probably saw him two or three times over the next three years I worked there. I really felt like I lost something, but since I'm a male it's not appropriate to talk about things like that. Friends are transient. That's something that we're expected to just... deal with.

It's the same with relationships. For the two or so years I was with my ex, she wasn't only my girlfriend. She was my best friend. We talked all the time. We laughed together, spent a lot of time together. But after we broke up, we only talked once or twice after that. The most recent conversation we had was really good. It was natural, and it really felt like old times. I was happy just being around her. I didn't want to get back together with her but I have to confess that I really missed her as a friend. Unfortunately, I was cowardly about discussing my feelings. I didn't share that I missed her. I talked about old times but there was a sense of finality about it. We both knew we probably weren't going to see each other again. She's married now and I'm happy for her but I still feel a profound sense of loss.

And aside from that, there are probably dozens of friends that I met on the internet that have completely vanished from my life. There was a guy I talked with just about every day. We played Super Nintendo games online together via emulation and joked about Final Fantasy VI and Chrono Trigger. He taught me words in Swedish over voice chat. I thought we were really good friends, but eventually he just suddenly and abruptly cut me out of his life. He removed me from Facebook and never spoke to me again. I was really hurt but never confronted him about it.

There weren't any other online friends that really treated me like that, but I did lose contact with a lot more. I wonder what some of them are up to. I'm still Facebook friends with a few of them, but it's really not the same. We don't talk anymore, and I don't feel like I have the same support group I did back in the LiveJournal glory days. Things change. They certainly do change.