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matthew
- Male
- Gresham, OR
- United States
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Awesome! I need fifty new ships for my war fleet. Make sure you deliver them tomorrow! Or elsssssssse...
your a builder of boats awesome job man
hehehe nice shot of me boat can I get a copy?
Glad that Denshar is still alive... and hopefully he will wake up indeed... properly and without problems!
We need to fine those pidgeons mate! And the seagulls...
This was so filled with mixed emotions, one of the most intenses rp's for Nerra. It was quite a test, but the outcome of it was well worth it. ^.^ ...Applauds ... gives a rating of two thumbs up & five stars. :P...
[18:15] Nerra stands and strecthes.
[18:17] Nerra quietly enters the infirmery, glancing over to the cots.
[18:19] Denshar coughs quietly in his sleep moaning softly
[18:20] Nerra washing her hands then reaching for a clean towel, patting them dry,…
"Sea-Fever"
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey…
I saw this on the internet yesterday and had to build it. so now I need textures for the sail and the two tent thingies
Lucky someone has a nice new SUV to haul all that gear.
*Snickers*
Norton Armoury ftw ;) Plastic armour that looks damned sexy and is light to go, it is the larpers friend ^^
I never could wear that much armor in SCA ... always did the bare minimum and relied on stick and shield.
Profile Information
- SL Account Name:
- IronTom Breen
- Character(s) played under this account name:
- Denshar Running Wind
- About My Characters:
- His first memories are of the drow caves where he was kept as a pet by the Ilharess of the house. He was spared from the worst aspects of being a drow slave and learned much during the time he was among them, including how to read and write drow, the Ilharess found amusement in using him at times as her voice when she wished to insult a lesser house. Among Denshar's duties was the proper bathing of the Ilharess and her sisters as well as any other pleasing service they desired. Denshar learned other things among the drow most importantly that strength and honor were revered by all, and that any job undertaken must be done to the best of ones ability whether or not you enjoy the task at hand. He was ten as the humans count years when his Mistress was slain by a rival house. Finding pleasure in the thought of his torment dying alone, in the wilderness; the new Ilharess cast him from the only home he had ever known. Alone and frightened Denshar survived by stealing fresh kills from the wild animals he became a scavenger. Only the gods know for sure how long he lived like this, if living it could be called. It was in this state, that he came to the lands he would call home. A storm raged through the night lightning setting the woods ablaze drove him out onto a wide plain where he collapsed exhausted from his wild flight from the fire.
Rough hands grabbed the gaunt unconscious figure lifting, before landing with thud on the cool surface of a wood plank. "Easy now Torvald, he's in bad shape but still alive." The gruff voice coming from near figures shoulders. "Aye, though ya could hardly tell through the filth" replied Torvald. Denshar could hear the sounds of the house hold coming awake, smell food cooking somewhere off in the distance, he was dreaming he had to be those days were long gone. All that was left now was pain and hunger. "Easy now lad no one's gonna hurt ya here. My name Felix, can ya talk?" asked the figure, the face held no malice, simple and open worry eased Denshar, more than he would have expected. "That’s it lad, ya can see I'm not gonna hurt ya" Felix smiled, "now how about a name?" Denshar swallowed attempted to speak but the words stuck in his throat and he began to cough violently. Felix Frowned "Hmmm, perhaps it's too soon. You seemed to have inhaled more smoke than I had thought. Here drink this, and drink all of it." Felix spoke to him directly in a voice that expected obedience as he pressed a goblet to Denshar's lips. The thick sweet honey barely covered the bitter wine and he choked again, but did manage to swallow the last drops. Smiling Felix pulled the blankets back up tucking Denshar in "you sleep some more, your body needs it. We'll talk when you're ready". Denshar never remembered falling asleep after that first meeting but the sky was dark when next he woke, he lay there in the darkness listening to the low murmur just in the next room. It was a soothing sort of sound that made him think this is what home should feel like. Over the next few months as Denshar recovered he came to know Felix and his brother Torvald and regard them as the family he never had. The pair owned an inn called the Green Griffin that sat on the cross roads of two caravan routes, which kept the men busy all year. As his health improved Denshar began to help with what he could. He learned quickly and as the years past the inn did become his home, it was here many years later that he met the only other creature he had ever seen like himself, a beautiful Bastet female named Nerra. She came to work at the inn and they married not long after and were happy for sometime till the night Felix and Torvald died attempting to break up a bar fight. Denshar and his wife Nerra left Golden Rivers and the Green Griffin Inn a few days later travelling where they might, seeing grand and wondrous lands before coming to this their last port. Here in this land called Ambria they felt they could make a new home a new start.
- About me as a player:
- Simpler Times
I can not define for you what happiness is, for like so many other things
in life, it is ever-changing. Yet stay awhile and I will speak of simpler
times when just being part of a family was cause for happiness.
As I turn the pages of memory and look into my past I see the journal of my life unfold. I find contained in those pages more pleasure than pain, even those faded and yellowed pages of childhood long past when we had no money for the bills that came day after day.
One of my fondest memories of childhood was a time when we could not afford electricity. With no radio or television we had to find other ways of entertaining ourselves. We spent our days that summer away from the distractions of modern life and returned to the simple things of the past.
We planted a garden in the backyard and shook our heads in bewilderment as we found that the only things we were able to grow were the garlic and onions that took over the yard. At night we would light our home made candles that we had cobbled together from bits of old crayons dug from the bottom of the toy box and old shoelaces for wicks. Mom would read to us by the candlelight about the adventures of Percival the youngest knight at King Arthur's court, while we roasted marshmallows in the fireplace, which had cooled since dinner to a cheery glow of banked coals. Other nights were spent playing a game we called a story circle, where we would each take turns telling a part of a story, making it up as we went. All the while, the fire would crack and pop on the hearth as if telling its own part of the story.
The dates are missing from these pages, so I can not tell you how long we lived like this, but eventually our finances improved, the power turned on, and we returned to the modern age of television and radio; there are times when I wish we could have stayed the way we were that summer, but as they say, all good things must come to an end, as did that summer so long ago. I cannot define for you what happiness is, for like so many other things it is ever-changing. Just remember that whatever happens, all we have is today; the past is gone, and tomorrow is yet to be. We have no control over either and worrying about it does us no good. Live for today and make the best of whatever comes, and you may well discover that in the pursuit of happiness we rarely have to look further than our own backyard...
My own Words My own Life.
- Favourite Games:
- En garde, Can't stop, Pente and D&D
- Favourite Sims in Secondlife:
- Karamoon and Ambrea, lone star ranch
Once More into the Fray
The bright morning sun of early spring lent little warmth to the day, for which we were all thankful. For all too soon we would be in the heat of battle. We had been preparing for this day all winter; it was to be the first event of the season.
We rose before the sun, to make ready for that day. "Coffee, where's my coffee." I could not function properly without that black, bitter liquid coursing through my veins. From the looks of things, I wasn't the only one. Felix, our unit leader and head armor-smith, held the worn and battered coffee mug he had been using for years. His hard, calloused hands were gripped firmly around the brim, as he stared fixedly at the coffee pot, cursing quietly under his breath about early mornings.
Finally, with coffee in hand, we set out after one last check to make sure we had everything we would need for the day. That black ribbon of highway stretching out before us, the blur of city buildings slipping past gave way to the fertile farmland of the country. Fog-filled mountain valleys glimpsed from a distance gave host to a thousand images of days gone by. The imagined sound of battle rang in my ears; soon we would don the archaic vestments of war.
As we pulled into the parking space, we could see the battlefield. Breathless, with narrowing vision as if lost in time, the armies of The West Kingdom lay before us. The mid-morning sun's brilliance reflecting in a hundred polished helms leaped and sparked like electric current, the sweet smells of leather and steel filled the air. The clash of the first charge reached our ears before we even had time to unload our gear. Rushing before we could miss much else, we dressed. The purple and black of our sir-coats naming us; The Order of The Incensed Panther had arrived.
As we approach the field, The Prince of Cynagua, Lord of Swans, greets us. Now it is time for Felix to make the deal; shall we once again fight for this Prince, who has always been fair and just in his dealings? Some moments pass, and we become restless; we wish to be at the act of war, for one side or the other - we came to fight not talk. The sound of battle rings loud in our ears; real now, not imagined. From where I stand I can see the line of two shield walls that have faced off. The enemy's center is weakening; a charge there would send his forces running; scattered like ants in a flood. Apparently Duke Fabian, commander of the western force, is not ready for this; he calls his men back. The Prince and our leader have finished their negotiations; we shall once again be fighting for The Lord of Swans.
We have been assigned to the Royal Guard for this engagement, and it will be our task to roll the enemy flank. We are on the line now. I can see across the top of my shield into the eyes of the enemy; I must be ready when the charge is called. I have chosen my target, and now I wait, my breath coming short with excitement as scattered shouts fill the air, "Hold the line!" "Steady on the right!" Then it comes; like fire and ice, all at once, the charge is called and once more into the fray...
matthew's Photos
Matthew's Blog
Denshar's Battle
[18:15] Nerra stands and strecthes.
[18:17] Nerra quietly enters the infirmery, glancing over to the cots.
[18:19] Denshar coughs quietly in his sleep moaning softly
[18:20] Nerra washing her hands then reaching for a clean towel, patting them dry, tosses the towel into the basket beneath the sink.
[18:21] Denshar tosses and turns in his sleep as if having a bad dream
[18:21] Nerra softly pads back over the curtain over to Denshar's bedside.
[18:21] IronTom Breen: nau ilhar qualla ol zhahus biu… Continue
[18:17] Nerra quietly enters the infirmery, glancing over to the cots.
[18:19] Denshar coughs quietly in his sleep moaning softly
[18:20] Nerra washing her hands then reaching for a clean towel, patting them dry, tosses the towel into the basket beneath the sink.
[18:21] Denshar tosses and turns in his sleep as if having a bad dream
[18:21] Nerra softly pads back over the curtain over to Denshar's bedside.
[18:21] IronTom Breen: nau ilhar qualla ol zhahus biu… Continue
Posted on July 9, 2009 at 8:38am — 2 Comments
Comment Wall (8 comments)
- At 7:15am on July 2, 2009,
Nerra said…
- Lovely stories, hun. ^,^
- At 12:02am on July 2, 2009,
Prince Alexander said…
- Your butt got slapped mate... (As reaction to: if it isnt on my page too it doesnt count) ;-)
- At 8:37am on July 1, 2009,
Byron Kayo said… - What a good profile...cheers
- At 12:07am on June 24, 2009,
Nerra said…
- Very nice, sweets!! :-)... Love the music too!! :P
- At 9:14pm on June 23, 2009,
Chinablue Whittlesea said… - Nice job and a very good read!!
- At 12:10pm on June 20, 2009,
Blaze said… - Blaze waves! :)
- At 7:56pm on May 27, 2009,
kyra reiter said… - we have our own chat here *points to the bottom of your screen*
- At 7:52pm on May 27, 2009,
kyra reiter said…
- Welcome to Ning!
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