Zarth Short 01

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Revision as of 00:02, 23 April 2011 by Ziggy (Talk | contribs) (THAT'S ALL FOR NOW)

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Begun 4/22/11 by Ziggy

Tale

In the angry glow, the gritty sweat trickles down Gavist's wrinkled brow. It beads around his black goggles, and makes an excursion down the side of his nose. It would have left a tiny stalactite on the end, but he smears it aside with his adjustment hammer. Cursed distractions.

The friction furnace screams as he hauls harder on the throttle. The light from within brightens to a searing green, shot with orange sparks. Gavist's sub wields the sparks from the vessel and into a little mortar resting on an anvil. They glow sullenly in the bottom like tiny coals. The furnace's scream subsides to a numbing howl. Gavist gives the shaft a couple of taps from his hammer. He runes "This batch is nearly done." The howling continues. The sparks grow fewer. Finally he releases the throttle and the shaft shudders to a halt.

Gavist locks the shaft and points to the lift. Together he and the sub


Up goes the pestle-maul, and down with a

Scrutiny

Scrutinize the above. Respond below.

Ziggy's Self-scrutiny

I wrote this trying to get into a Zarth mind. Into a life of that... caliber. That temper. To wield the steel of a searing soul... so to speak.