Quinn Rocklinone
Bio
I write novels. I drop them here years before release. All included URLs are music to listen to while reading. Enjoy.
Stories (5)
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Chapter 5 - Raze
Chapter 5 - Hex 2 The atmosphere within the Magma changes once the brawl has been broken up. At first, I expect it is just a result of fading excitement, but then the first men begin to rise. A strong, quiet type sitting by Aduren peers subtly out the tavern’s two front windows. He does not seem the kind of man to suck up to a brash idiot who has dubbed himself a hero. No, by this time in his perhaps thirty years of life he will have decided himself above the foolishness of childish legend. Both men disgust me.
By Quinn Rocklinone5 years ago in Futurism
Chapter 4 - Acquiescence
Chapter 4 - Malthen 1 The blood crusted pelt of a northern squirrel is not so rough as the hardened leather into which it will be fashioned. It is not so rough as the whip or shackle it may become. Most of the men meandering through Kitford’s sunset market have never felt the rasp and sting of either, but I remember both all too well. Only six short months have passed since I slipped the noose of bondage, and already I perpetuate the system - selling hide to the tanner. Ironic how fate reminds you of your place. The free world is marvelous, however, and I will not let fate keep me from tonight’s revelries. It is rumored that an official of house Carsus is visiting with this small town’s mayor today, and that means celebration. In all my time with Pa Grayson, the family never missed an opportunity to celebrate exotic company. For better or for worse, the expansive continent which lies outside the Grayson house is revealing itself to be much like what lies inside. Perhaps, people are the same all over the world. I have only begun my travels, but I intend to personally investigate this notion.
By Quinn Rocklinone5 years ago in Futurism
Chapter 3 - Vehemence
Chapter 3 - Aduren 1 In the days before I began my travels, I would often find myself gritting my teeth against torn and bloody hands - ripped apart by the rough hilt of a training blade. I would grimace and hold my tongue, swearing to Cog that one day the blood staining my clothes would not be mine, but that of my enemies. Today I can’t tell. The vibrant green leaves strewn about the forest floor are splashed with red, especially the stretch between myself and my enemy. Today the almighty Selune has tested my strength against the great Tapire that lies wheezing not three meters away. It’s head rests atop a gnarled root. The same one that nearly cost me my life minutes earlier. It will not look at me as it dies, but still I glare into its eyes. Daring it to challenge me further. I shudder with excitement when it does not.
By Quinn Rocklinone5 years ago in Futurism
Chapter 2 - Placidity
Listen to the above soundtrack while you read Chapter 2 - Kha 1 As I open my eyes to the quiet northern morning, I am met with the unwelcome sight of a rat on the hastily boarded floor. It sits beside my rough cot of wood and hay, looking directly into my eyes with an expression of indecision. I blink sleep from my tired eyes and shift to get a better look at the menace who has surely eaten half my bread already. The cot creaks below me, dwarfed by my unnatural stature. The thing is barely two meters long, a full third of a meter too short and my blistered feet hang off the end like spigots for tap ale. I swat carefully at the little animal, careful not to hurt it. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The little thing scampers into the darkness before I can even extend my fingers.
By Quinn Rocklinone5 years ago in Futurism
Chapter 1 - Cynosure
Chapter 1 - Hex 1 Eva told me not to cry when the other kids beat me down. She told me boys will be boys and a piddly fight would make me stronger. She told me not to worry when she found me staring in from the outside, peering perhaps at a mean boy or a pretty girl. She told me that the affections of children would not hurt me. She was right. They couldn’t hurt me then and still can’t to this day because around them I do not feel. I am a freak of nature, born of two bloods into no family but the street and dirt beneath. I am utterly alone, as everyone discovers sooner or later, and this understanding feeds me strength to do not what I must, but as I please. When I came into this world, I believe that I emerged from the gateway of death. Every day I seek that gateway, peering through the ever-waning cover of fear and keeping the ever-present gate at arm's length. Perhaps I will die tomorrow. Perhaps I will travel the Centrum. But I will not die an old man. Only those with one hand on the gate can truly feel. And I long to feel alive.
By Quinn Rocklinone5 years ago in Geeks
