THE AIR WAS FULL OF SALT and bitter decay, just the same as yesterday. Tonight the stench seemed even more oppressive. Perhaps it was the reek of the bodies they’d stacked up in the tower on the west side of the gate. Or perhaps it was the miasma that bloomed from the Enemy encampment surrounding the walls. Whichever; it made no difference.
Stink was stink.
Neria Terrant gazed out from the ramparts of Meridan’s fortified outer wall, her stare distant. Her dark hair whipped against her face, tossed by the wind. She scowled, swiping it back behind her ear.
“We’re running out of arrows,” grumbled the hard-bitten captain standing next to her. “And we’re running out of Sentinels.”
The first problem was easier to solve than the second.
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He was scowling down at something in his hand. A long, thin dagger with an ebony hilt.
“Careful,” Neria smiled, “your wife probably wouldn’t approve of the way you’re stroking that weapon.”
Gerald glanced up at the sound of her voice. He offered Neria a fleeting, dispirited grin. “Emelda hasn’t approved of most things I’ve done lately.”
“Neither have I,” Neria reminded him.
She never tired of flaunting her authority in his face. If not for Neria, Gerald Lauchlin would be Warden of Sentinels. But Neria overshadowed him both in power and promise. Something which had to gall him every waking moment of his life.
She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Scores of Proctor’s men lugged stiffened corpses up the stairs. Neria stepped over beside Gerald to give the men room to work.
They tied long lengths of rope about the legs of the deceased, looping the other ends around the merlons of the palisade.
“What am I looking at?” Gerald muttered, disgust etched into his face. His shoulder-length brown hair whipped in the wind.
“Watch and be inspired.” Neria allowed a proud smile to slip to her lips.
The soldiers heaved the corpses over the parapet, feeding the rope slowly, lowering the bodies gradually down the outside of the wall. She kept her gaze trained on Gerald’s face, watching the play of emotions evolving in his eyes.
There was a shivering whisper on the wind—the breathless flight of arrows
“I want to know where they are and how many men are coming. Find out, and don’t fail me again,” He replied sternly. “In the meantime, what’s our plan from here?”
The reek of death hangs in the air throughout the land. Filling the mouths of those who lived in this abandoned land was the taste of burnt garlic. The screams and cries of terror undistinguishable between beast and human fill the ears of the last ones living. The sky, which was lit by the glow of fires, is grey and empty. Decaying bodies and
“Fine. A thousand, two, three. Do whatever you can to stop the assassin! I want to be safe!” The Queen’s hair was fragile, and soon it would rip, strand by strand. Her anger would make her explode from too much of it. She needed to relax, to be calm and free. This was nothing of that.
As history repeats itself, we continue to notice that there are many geographic factors that effect regions across the world. A few of the most noticeable are monsoons and deserts. Over time these factors have altered the relationships between certain regions and benefitted our development in society. However, they can be extremely demoralizing as well. Not only is nature disrupted but the way in which people live on a daily basis. We are forced to make changes and adapt to the overwhelming geographic factors.
A light chuckle escaped the knight’s lips. “I’m not about to divulge the fact you fingered your fiancée before your wedding, so let’s not worry about that. I actually commend you for it. No woman should walk around unsatisfied.”
She then reached for the sword, her fingers tightened around the black handle. It's name was Heosphoros. It was a sword/heirloom of the Morgerstern family. The top was rounded and made of pure silver and black and gold adamas. The cross guard, grip, and pommel were pure gold with black obsidian. The blade was pure silver, and had a pattern of stars decorated on the steel.
He shuttered his eyelids, sliding down the wall next to the window and resting his head upon his knees for a moment before hearing the thundering footsteps of the soldiers and forcing himself to his feet. He refused to die on the ground. Let them see what they killed for the bourgeois and hope their days were troubled by those they killed.
I read House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III. This story is one of classic tragedy which also contains a nearly unbearable amount of suspense. It tells a story of the conflict between people of different races who have an inability to understand each other. They each want possession of a small house in the California hills but for very different reasons.
From the moment I got there, I could sense that there was something...off. All around, people were in different stages of deterioration. Some were still very much alive, but others seemed as if there were a weight tied to them, dragging them right through the dirt beneath their feet.
Nemesis does not possess the mind set to feel anything but protectiveness for Sidonia, and Sidonia alone. But when Sidonia’s father, the current Senator von Impyrean, puts the life of his daughter in danger, with his heretic ways, Nemesis will go to great lengths to keep her safe. Nemesis must take Sidonia’s place among a sea of deadly nobles, at the empire's greatest ships, the
The climate of a planet plays a significant role in determining how life presumes. In fact, a hot climate makes water so scarce, that saliva is valuable. In the novel Dune, Frank Herbert makes the climate of Arrakis so significant, that dead bodies are seen as a “water” source. The climate on the planet of Arrakis makes water less significant than blood, because water cannot exist without blood. Arrakis’s climate is also a plus, because the warriors that live there are much more adapted to it than anyone who was to invade to conquer. The planet of Arrakis is seen as a gold mine for mélange, because it has such a high potency of it, and the Fremen are pretty much in charge of it. This would then cause other “rivals” to try and conquer the
When living in the Mojave desert people have started to keep track of what's bringing the ecosystem down. In the Mojave desert the threats are mostly affecting the plants and animals. One of the more worrying threats is the invasive plants or otherwise known as alien plants. The invasive plants come in and destroy ecosystems while including all plants, animals, and insects. There are many different types of invasive plants in the Mojave desert, but some cause a bigger change.
James Joyce’s short story Araby delves into the life of a young adolescent who lives on North Richmond Street in Dublin, Ireland. Narrated in the boys’ perspective, he recounts memories of playing with friends and of the priest who died in the house before his family moved in. With unrestrained enthusiasm, the boy expresses a confused infatuation with the sister of his friend Mangan. She constantly roams his thoughts and fantasies although he only ever catches glimpses of her. One evening she speaks to him, confiding that she is unable to visit Araby, a bazaar. Stunned by the sudden conversation, the boy promises he will go and bring her back a small memento. In anticipation, the boy launches into a period of restless waiting and distraction
travel. It was said that there are huge masses of Fremen there along with giant
Desertification is a term few people recognize and even fewer are concerned about. This paper will cover what desertification is along with why it is a global crisis, what the root causes of desertification are, what can be done to reverse the harm full desertification process, it will also cover how farmers can work together to prevent future desertification.