Archive for the ‘parody’ Tag

Chapter 3 again

Sunday, September 23rd, 2012

Magus woke up. His eyes opened, and they flitted around, quickly taking in the surroundings. Not much to look at really. Black room, the black chair he was sitting in, torch shining into his eyes, that kind of thing. He tried to get up and discovered he was tied to the chair. Oh, and did I mention the ominous figures standing around the room? There were a lot of ominous figures standing around the room, each wearing some kind of black cloth wrapped around their heads.

“Tell me,” said the figure in the front, obviously the leader. “Why were you looking for our base?”

“We were looking for the insurgents,” said Magus. “We wanted to join.”

“Hrmmm…” muttered the leader. Then, Magus suddenly felt an odd presence feeling about in his mind. He tried to resist, but he could halt it no more than the Pillsbury Dough Boy could stop a steamroller.

After a few seconds, the presence retreated, and the leader said “He is telling the truth.” He then snapped his fingers, and the bonds trapping Magus sprung off and set him free.

“Who are you?” said Magus as he was getting up. “And why do you all have towels wrapped around your heads?”

“Because we couldn’t find anyone who sold ski masks in bulk… And as to who we are… we are the insurgents… and I…. am Aragon Ælfhame.” As he said this, the man took off his off his towel revealing features that would be totally unremarkable, if you did not notice the soulless cat-like eyes, and the eerie, inhuman face.

When he saw the man and heard his name, Magus gasped, because he had been hearing tales of him for his entire childhood. Some stories said he had sold his soul to the fey, while others said he had joined with the elves to fight the Empire, and no two were even remotely alike.

“Come on,” said Ælfhame. “Your friends are waiting and there’s good that needs doing.”


“How is blowing up a school doing good?” asked Magus.

“It’s for the greater good.” responded Aragon.

“Ah,” said Magus. “This is obviously some form of the word good of which I was previously unaware.”

“What did you just say?” said Ælfhame with a tone of menace that made it obvious that he had heard exactly what Magus had said.

“I said ‘yes sir,’” replied Magus.

“Very good.”



Wednesday, May 16th, 2012

In case you are unable to tell, I seem to have started a blog, in the vague hope of promoting my book. It’s a parody of Tolkienesque epic fantasy, as well anything else I feel like mocking at the time. As I doubt that talking about how awesome my book is will mean anything to you, here’s an excerpt from the prologue:


“Allright cupcakes,” shouted the drill sergeant as the sun beat down onto the Imperial training field. “You maggots may be the best from wherever you came from, but here you are mine. You are weak. You are nothing. You are pitiful. However, if you listen to what I say, we just might make men out of you.”

Rather ironic, Travia thought, as she and the other recruits saluted, clanking stiffly in the black armor. She had been terrified by the drill sergeant’s speech the first time he tried it, but after a few weeks the effect began to wear off. Now it just gave her a vague urge to stab him to death.

“Allright!” shouted the sergeant. “We are going to march for the rest of the day! This is clearly the most productive way to spend our time!”

Travia bit back a response, even though the Tsundere’s guild would have her badge if she gave up on a chance to complain. Of course, they’d have her badge if they even knew she was there, given that she had to chop off her pigtails to join. She needed to hide her status as a mage if she planned to get into the military, and given that the hairstyle functioned as a magical lightning rod, odds are it would have given her away. Although The Empire was theoretically a progressive country, mages were still held in distrust, and the last thing she needed was to accidently incinerate someone before she was ready to drop the veil.

Looking back on her past, Travia was rather worried to find that most of the events that driven her to this current state had faded into the mist of time. However, as always, one day was still crystal clear.

She had risen just like any other day, gathering her red hair into the traditional pigtails and putting on her robe, before going on to rudely awake Magus, her master’s other apprentice. He had brown hair and blue eyes, thus giving him the look of an everyman. This effect of normalcy was completed by a complete lack of intelligence.

“Look,” said Magus. “I know this is your flashback and all, but could you be a bit more polite? I heard the entire narration.”

“No,” said Travia. “Idiot.”

“You do realize insults are not a type of punctuation,” responded Magus. “You aren’t required to put them at the end of every sentence.”

“Look,” said Travia, “just stick to the script. You’re supposed to get food next.”

“How?” asked Magus. “There isn’t a scrap of food in this tower, and even if there was, I wouldn’t be able to cook it. Do you expect me to just pull a three course meal from the fucking ether?”

“Yes,” said Travia. “We’re wizards. We can do that kind of stuff.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” asked Magus.

“I’m lazy.”

“Thought as much.”


So, yeah. Tell me what you think!