Magician: This is the main project that I’m extremely excited for. This is the first time in a year and a half that I will be venturing into the world of novel writing. Magician is an urban fantasy novel following a university student who stumbles into the world of magic and learns the history of how magic has influenced our world and how he can use it to his advantage.

NextLevel in Review: I currently work for a gaming website and podcast, NextLevel Gaming Online. While I haven’t been as active as I would like, I certainly plan on doing a bit more work there. Every week, I will be posting a link to every article NextLevel has released that week, along with a summary of the article. I highly suggest checking the website out, as, well, it’s awesome.

Looking Back: The Matrix Online: This is another project I’m working on that I expect to run the course of a few months. For five years I played a massively multiplayer online role-player game, The Matrix Online. I played this game during an extremely pivotal time in my youth and many of its influences and social connections still affect me today. This segment will be divided into two parts: A novella from my character’s point of view during the ever-evolving story in the game, as well as a personal journal that catalogues my feelings and interactions with players during that time. Even if you are not familiar with this particular game, I would highly encourage reading this section to see how even something as small as a game can greatly influence the lives of its players.

Aside from these regular segments, a few changes have been made to the website itself:

• No more of that unnecessary “read full post” nonsense. Posts will be made in full and viewed on the front page.
• Livestreaming Link made so viewers can easily tune into my Starcraft II stream (more on this later).
• Social Media auto-posts disabled. Way too messy for my taste.
• Sidebar has been downsized considerably for a more simpler approach.

A new splash intro page will debut within the next two weeks. I will be dividing my website into two sections: Author and Gamer. Each section will feature its own template, design and information as well as downloadable resumes from either section.

For now, I thank you for taking the time to visit the re-release of my website and hope you visit with the release of new content!

“Dead ahead,” a voice came through the darkness plaguing the forest outside Veron. “Get into position,” the shadows seem to speak to one another.

The normally-quiet forest was disturbed by a foreign trade caravan; the loose, wooden wheels paid no heed as they broke the serenity of the forest with every rotation. Two wagons were watched by a group of four armed guards from the town of Tullare, a farming town that had recently signed a trade agreement with the capital. Tullare, overjoyed by their new agreement, had hastily put together a caravan filled with their best goods and dispatched a small group immediately, despite their lack of knowledge of the land.

And of those who inhabit it.

“Four armed targets and the driver, plus whoever may be inside,” one tree whispered to the other.

“Cause a distraction,” the grass responded, eagerness in its voice.

Bennet Rosak, a man of sixty-five, felt himself slipping in and out of sleep while he led his caravan forward. “A sip of something cold ought to do the trick,” he told himself while filling up a mug of ale that he kept nearby. The guards on either side of him made no comment that the past five mugs did not aid his exhaustion; the quicker he passes out, the quicker rest would come, they reasoned.

An ear-piercing screech caused old Bennet Rosak to drop his mug to the ground. “Damn banshees!” the drunken man yelled and quickly rose to his feet. “Where’s mah sword?!” he bellowed while stamping his feet, having grabbed a wooden plank he assumed to be his weapon’s scabbard. “I’ve fought demons worse than ye!”

“Sit back down, Farmer Rosak,” the guard on the caravan’s left ordered. “We’ll check it out.” The brown-haired teen motioned to the guard opposite him before stepping forward, a lightly-rusted sword in hand.

Another screech. Footsteps soon followed. Both front guards raised their unimpressive weapons while their companions at the rear readied much more intimidating iron swords and steel-crafted shields. Guards from Tullare were asked to supply their own equipment, and as such, the poorer soldiers were left with whatever they could find or worn items that their families could afford.

“Help!” The previously unintelligible scream now became a cry for assistance. From around the corner, a young blonde-haired woman ran in bare feet through the dirt, her clothes tattered and torn with a man in close pursuit. Upon seeing the two young guards, the woman positioned herself behind them as the man stopped dead in his tracks.

“What’s going on here?!” The brown-haired guard asked, his weapon raised with the girl standing beside his companion. When no response came, the young man stormed forward, but a glance behind him revealed the two rear guards lying on the ground, weapons at the sides of their corpses. His head turned right to see his companion fall to the ground. The inexperienced guard did not even have enough time to put the pieces together before a knife swiftly slid across his neck.

A figure in a dark cloak now sat adjacent Farmer Rosak, patting his shoulder gently. “Traveling at night through the Veron Forest, old man?” The voice that used to belong to the shadows – the grass, the trees and the darkness – now came from the arrogant antagonist patronizing the elderly farmer. Dark, slender fingers held a surprisingly ferocious grip upon the man’s shoulder, sending such a chill down his spine that freed the man of his drunken stupor. A rust-laden dagger found its way to the farmer’s neck. “What’s your name, old man?”

“B-Bennet,” the petrified man responded, “Bennet Rosak.” He dared not move his head as the fast-paced breathing had already forced the dagger to draw a trickle of blood from his neck.

Using his free hand, the captor drew the hood of his cloak, revealing a dark face in contrast to white hair. Long ears pointed upward and red eyes scanned the farmer carefully. With a grin, the Dark Elf spoke, “A pleasure, Mister Rosak.” With a slight nod of his head, he introduced himself. “I am Shiidar Lena, and I do believe your caravan now belongs to me.”

In less than two minutes, the shadows had yet again claimed the lives of yet another merchant and his guards.

So, rather than elaborate on what I have planned specifically, I’m just going to list what’s going to be going on here during the summer:

• 12 New Short Stories
• 20 New Poems
• 1 Novella
• 60 Blogs
• 30 Flash Fiction Entries
• 1 Major Project

Now, any knowledgeable writer will tell me that I could not possibly have all that completed, done and ready to send to an editor in 100 days’ time. No, that’s true; as per usual, all of my releases are simply drafts. I am also planning on taking one or two short stories and perhaps a poem off of the website to work on editing and sending that off to a publisher; but we’ll see what happens there.

Is it edited? No.

Is it good? It gets the point across.

I will have a more detailed blog post about this tomorrow to go hand-in-hand with my change of writing plans, but Chronicles of Tilorum will be going on an indefinite hiatus after this date.

Part 15- The Fall

Until then – register away!