so I spent an extra week away. Sorry bout that. Not much I could do about it. I couldn't write much either, sadly. Ya know. Shit happens. I DID see wolves. It was pretty dang dope. Saw a bear too, but bears are a little more common, and I was driving when that happened so it's a bit less thrilling.
So yeah.
That night I had crazy and vivid dreams
Of things which I had truly never seen
For once I stopped caring for mortal schemes
I dreamt of a far off place where grass was green
Where the sky was blue and the spring air was clean
A fort stood proud in the plains that made this land
It's walls clearly carved by the dwarven hand.
Yet it was in no place known to our kind,
It did resembled the black cat, but no,
It wasn't the place that stayed in my mind
Twas a man in a porcelain mask though,
And then a screaming flock of pitch black crow
The clouds turned a purple-indigo hue,
And then I saw a part of the dwarven crew.
Vath, in steel, kneeled in broken defeat
Curled the same way over his pitch black hound
The plains became now a putrid swampy peat
Accompanied by wings was pitch black sound,
Now shapes of soldiers appeared all around
The masked man pulled Vath from his friend
At this point, my string of nightmare did end.
At half past noon I rose from my lengthy bed.
Mörul watched as troops felled towering trees.
I fell down from sheets feeling half past dead.
Damor and the elf were both on their knees,
Drawing and holding paper in the breeze.
They were making giant crossbows of sorts.
Ballistae are smaller: those fit in forts!
O, these were truly large, but big enough?
They'd only get one chance to hit their mark,
But the walls of the tower were quite tough.
The iron bolts' head was the size of a shark
(that was last night's fish, I heard in remark)
One ship would hold it, one keep it steady,
One would have bolts for when it was ready.
There's more to the plan then just pulling the thing over with a couple brobdignagian ballistae on ships. If that was it, I'd never have mentioned the weak spot in the base of the tower ( because pulling the thing over from the base iz dum ).
Yeah. I liked having the time off. I felt like a lot of today's bits were better written than some other bits. I don't really think I'm too good a writer, but on a forum in the middle of nowhere on the internet, I don't think it matters. I mean, I particularly like the little bits like where I described how the crew was getting seasick, but you'd only know that had you read it in context, or how I used both crow and crew in the same stanza (I have a really rhyming "fetish." I hate words that don't rhyme perfectly, especially things like "Home" and "Alone." Those don't rhyme, but people rhyme M and N all the time. That's why I try to stay super faithful to rhymes. Slant rhymes are just awesome for me, it's like a whole new dimension I can torture myself over.) It's little things that I really enjoy.
But yeah. Giant, three boat ballistae. One to shoot, one to stabilize the shooting one, and one to hold the ropes and boats so that it can be pulled over. All three will help pull, and there will be many boats, but yeah. I mean, the tower is made out of granite and is super thick.
I don't think toppling the monster is going to be easy, and I am sure a couple of these boats are just going to collapse under the shear power of a giant ballista.
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Topic: The Black Cat Brewery and the Ill Tower: Where blood can be boiled down to iron. (Read 16392 times)