Young Writers Society

Saythe/Ven:

"Why did I come back to this hellhole? I must have been insane." Saythe muttered irritably as he surveyed the battleground. Gradomian birds flew under cloudy grey skies, occasially stooping out of the sky and lifting a screaming human only to drop them back to earth. Behind him Ven nodded in agreement, his black scales seemed to almost absorb the sunlight.

The dragon's tail whipped back and forth in agitation, his icy blue eyes were narrowed to slits. As Saythe climbed nimbly onto the dragon's bare back he continued complaining. "I could have stayed in the interior, or flown across the sea. But nooo I have to jump into a way to save a land that doesn't even want me to exist."

As the duo leaped into the air one of the Gradomian's caught sight of them, before it could warn the others Ven had torn a wing off in his jaws and sent the sentient raptor crashing to earth. Ven spit out the wing before the feathers could make him sneeze.

Saythe drew his swords as the dragon let out the strange hiss-roar that warned others of his prescence. A jet of black flames shot into the air and roasted a second raptor. In the distance Saythe could see flyers taking to the sky from the town.

*Thanks Cam!*

Name: Cypher Googlewhack XVIII

Age: 29

Appearance: The quintessential mad scientist - Short, spikey green hair due to chemical contamination. His eyebrow however remains the natural colour of his hair, ginger. He has both eyebrows, however one is usually missing due to experimental mishaps. He also has amazingly deep blue eyes. Usually he wears a dark brown leather apron over a black shirt (sleeves always rolled up ot the elbow), thick protective gloves, brown trousers covered to the knee by black jackboots and aviator-esque safety goggles, permenantly on his forehead. However when he is travelling he leaves the apron and instead wears a vest of many pockets, each filled with odd bits of often useful paraphernalia and a leather workmans belt full of tools (which he has lovingly dubbed the "utility" belt).

History: Spurred on by his father, Cypher Googlewhack XVII, he graduated first in his class from the Telmarusian Academy of Tinkerers and Engineers with a Major in Engineering and a Minor in Tinkery. Initially he followed in the footsteps of all his forefathers bar one (the disgraced Cypher Googlewhack XI the Sociologist Bard), becoming a Battle Engineer for the Telmarusian Knights. After many years of faithful service he finally had one accident too many and was Honourably Discharged with a years pay in return for not returning to the military. He used the money to begin the Googlewhack House of Gentlemans Personal Protection Implements, also know as the GuHuGPuPI. After a few years he grew bored and left the buisness in the capable hands of his only survivng assistant, one eyed Greg (known before his employment as Greg). He began travelling the empire building larger more devestating devices for the protection of towns and cities.

Personality: Worryingly optimistic and quick to forget lessons learned in previous tests. He has the utmost confidence in all his devices, which have left him far too frequently in the House of Healers. He has a cheery disposition but believes that everyone has the right to feel secure. His ultimate weakness however, is women. Having never actually spoken to one other than his mother and maid, he has no concept of how to act around them and so shuts himself off or simply hides behind his work.

Belief: He believes in Elleranda. How else would one explain his ludicrous survivability?

Mount: A wizened old pack mule named Eddie, who has learnt that if Cypher lights something, he should probably be running.

Up for love?: Yes, straight. However you may have to break his bone deep, raw terror of females that runs on the family.

Other: He considers him above counting sheep and instead recites pi until he falls asleep. Unfortunately he has been known to continue his counting, whilst being asleep. Also he mummbles nonsensical gobbledegook whilst concentrating.

Cypher Googlewhack XVIII
Guest Quarters

I arose to a cacophony of strange noises from out side my window. I heard the smash of glass, the squawk of a bird and the distinct whoosh and thwack of an arrow. I dived out of bed, hastily pulling my on my boots. Yesterday had been the deadline for my Mk.I Anti-Gradomian Ballistae to be complete. Sadly due to repeated failures in the winch, firing and reloading mechanism it was complete, but untested. As a result the Mayor had given me two more days in the guest apartments before my funding would be cancelled. I peeked out the window to see unmistakable avians swooping from the sky.
"Well," i muttered. "No time to test it like the present." With that i pulled on my apron and ran out the door and over to the tower in which i had constructed the mighty ballistae. With a grunt i heaved open the large wooden doors on the tower roof and cranked up the enormous contraption. I quickly grabbed the two preloaded cases of arrows and snapped them into place. This done i spotted some flyers lifting off from the city.
How odd, i thought. I don't remember them being here.
A loud squawk from above and the smell of roasted meat drew my attention back to the sky. It was a dragon. A big, bad, black dragon. Without another thought i sat in the attatched seat and lined up with the sight. Once everything was prepared, i lined up a shot, crossed my fingers and began peddling. The clack of cogs gave way to the clunk of the firing mechanism, before the thwack of a bolt whooshing into the sky. It sounded beautiful.
"It WORKS!!!" I yelled, sighting and peddling furiously, taking care not to hi tthe dragon. I did not want to upset that thing. Suddenly there was a soft twang. I looked up to see both cases expended. I sighed.
"Need more bolts in a case. I'd better make a note of that." I reached for my trouser pocket only discover them missing. "It seems in my haste i have forgotten my trousers." I looked down at my pale legs, knobbly knees and black boots.
"Perhaps i could build some sort of pulley system to ensure that i put all my clothes on for the day. Perhaps with option of sets for different weather. Yes that could work." I smiled to myself and looked up the sky, noticing the distinctly reduced numbers of Gradomians and grinning with pride. I pulled my back up notepad from the apron pocket and began designing. It had finally worked. That'd show that over weight buffoon this city called Mayor. You just couldn't rush true genius.

Hakon--Fort Alpine--Telmarus

I watch silently as Neruda and Elijah have a useless conversation. Neruda isn't following orders, as per usual, and being a suicidal nut and Elijah's bossing people around. Normal day.

I shift closer to Neruda, as I hear Eli say something about what my duty is today, which I already knew and so did Neruda, but--eh, never mind.

I flinch back as Neruda suddenly turns to face me, however.

"We will fly up to the war-horn. Please do not fidget like last time, because I do not wish to have to catch you again. It was most unpleasant," she says, as if all of that was my fault. She's suicidal, if she were normal, I suppose, and she doesn't seem to care much about risk. Of course I was scared off my wit.

"Unpleasant is one way to describe it, yes. How about you just hold on to me properly this time?" I ask. She just tilts her heads and looks thoughtful. My ears twitch in annoyance. I roll my eyes finally and let out a barking laugh once I realize she won't snap out of it unless I speak. "You don't have to actually answer that, okay?"

With a curt nod, she grabs me and takes off. I try to bite back the cry of terror I immediately risk letting loose, just because of a phobia. I'm fine. I just wish we could take a boat to the war-horn.

"Can't you, I don't know, get there somehow else?"

She just looks at me with those consistently dreamy eyes and says, "Why?"

If I had control of my limbs, I might smack myself. Not that that was beneficial in a war zone and I wouldn't, but still.