Beautiful Women and Speedy Dragons

[Last night I had an exceptionally strange dream. It stood out to me so much that I can even remember most of it now–hours after the event. I figured I’d transcribe everything that I remember so that you could enjoy this rather odd dream too. I typed this out in one go and I’ve kept the editing to a bare minimum, so as to keep this as authentic as possible. Any incoherency in this post is completely intentional; it is a dream after all!]

My recollection of the dream begins with my cousin Conor dragging me along to a really fancy dinner party. We’re dressed in nice suits and we’re in a really fancy restaurant which is completely empty. We sit down at this long table covered in a white tablecloth with silver furnishings. Then other people start appearing as if they’ve been there all along.

There is a beautiful blonde opposite me (simple, elegant, beautiful) and she’s starts talking to me immediately, ignoring everyone else. We get on very well and have an extremely intelligent conversation, and I can’t help but feel that there could be romance budding. (This is interesting because I don’t usually go for blondes at all.). This goes on for a while. [In fact, I think another woman appeared at one stage but then I forgot about her and she just disappeared again. It’s all rather vague!]

Mid-conversation, a young stressed-looking man comes along and sits down beside me and tells me we have to talk urgently. So we leave (I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to the blonde!) and somehow arrive in a dark laboratory/office building. We’re on the top floor, completely alone.

At this stage I also realize that I am a wizard.

So we’re walking through this floor of abandoned rooms and I realize that I know it’s the Wizards’ HQ – and that it’s abandoned because all the other wizards are dead. The chap who is with me is the new chief wizard. (I briefly wonder why he’s still using an office at the back of the building instead of moving into one of the now-vacated nicer ones. I conclude that it must be a sign of respect.) We reach his office and he ushers me inside.

It’s a normal office and he lays out his master-plan for me on his desk. [He brilliantly uses some action figures to portray this.] This is the deal: we’re the only two wizards left and we’re fighting some evil monster. Apparently the evil thing has killed all the other wizards but this has had the counter-effect of revealing his location to us. It’s time for the final battle!

I hesitantly raise the objection that there could be another force that we don’t know about that could interfere. I demonstrate this theory using a zombie figure who comes up behind our two figures and proceeds to attack them. (Complete with sound effects provided by yours truly.) The chief is unimpressed and throws the zombie on the floor. I pick it up and start attacking our figures again. He shakes his head and throws it on the floor. I pick it up. [This goes on for quite a while!]

Suddenly the door of the room blasts open and a MASSIVE DRAGON somehow flies into the room, turns into the beautiful woman from the party for a millisecond, drops an envelope on the table, then turns back into a dragon and blasts out of the room again. This all happens in less than a second; I’m totally gobsmacked and don’t know what’s going on.

The chief looks at the message, shakes his head, and mutters to himself (I remember this bit distinctly), “This is most unusual.”

I ask him to explain, and he tells me that we were just given a message by the great dragon Penelope. [Baffling, I know!] The chief frowns at the message and I consider asking him what it says.

Before I do so I feel a brief moments sadness as I realize that my wonderful conversation with the woman at the party was not what I thought it was. Was she just talking to me as part of some subtle dragon scheme? Was she trying to protect me? I wistfully wonder if she might still love me despite being an immortal dragon…

And then I wake up.

[So there you have it: my crazy dream. If any of you amateur psycho-analysts out there want to try to explain this to me then you’re more than welcome (I must have a lot of deeply troubling unresolved mental issues!). Personally though, I’m rather hoping there’s a sequel tonight. Bonne nuit!]

Ambush! [Scene 1] [Draft 2]

[Hi everyone! I wrote this scene about 2 months ago. My aim with it was to write the first scene of a prologue to a fantasy novel. This is the second draft (perfectly preserved from two months ago!). Bonus to anyone who can guess where I ripped my character names from haha. I will be taking a few days off over Christmas, so I figured I would put this up so  that people will have plenty to read until I’m back 🙂 I know you’ll all miss me terribly. It’s pretty long for something to post to the internet, but if you guys enjoy it then I’ll try to write some of these longer-style stories more often. I hope you like it! Happy Christmas! – Kevin.]

“What are you doing with that stick Matt?”

Matt blasted Ham with a look of pure indignation and violently thrust the stick up into his face, showing clearly the runes he had been scraping into it for the last five minutes. “Making some bloody Runes because I left my bloody Wand with the GODDAMN BLOODY TENTS!!” he exploded, sputtering, his outrage making him swear quite profusely. Ham looked down at the stick – which Matt had thrust so close to his face that he was forced to tilt his head back and squint at it quite uncomfortably – peering past his rather substantial nose and facial hair.

The stick brandished triumphantly in Matt’s grimy hand did have a few scrapings on it… Ham supposed they were meant to be the runes Matt had been referring to.  Ham regarded the stick for a moment longer, then “mmm”ed noncommittally – and turned away. Matt remained frozen in his position for a long second, still thrusting his stick aggressively towards the place that Ham’s beard had up to that moment been residing in. Then, with a huff of exasperation, he retracted his arm and once again devoted himself to furiously working on the stick. Ham sighed, baffled, and turned his attention to more relevant matters. A stick, after all, is hardly important when one is being attacked by a horde of blood-crazed savages. Continue reading