Thursday, 26 April 2012


Curse South Africa's Internet Problems!!!!!!!

Curse you!!!!!

The One DAY I have nothing to do and you DIE!!!!!!!

Curse you!!!!!


I needed to get that out of my system. It was literally fixed 5 minutes ago.

But it doesnt matter. I am still amazingly annoyed.

Well at least I had some time to catch up on writing.

I have completed a quite a few chapters of Lord Vlaedr's adventures.

All short and sweet, just the way I like it.

Granted, I have a long while to go before I shake off the rustiness in my writing, but I am getting there...

So slowly....

Well, here is Chapter One.... Enjoy.....

Chapter One: Ah, Home....

Vlaedr’s apartment. In a word?  Empty. Barren.

It contains one small, metal bead. One sink. One microwave. One small locker, that serves as the cupboard.

It is Five Meters by Ten Meters. It is a storage closet.

But its home.

Vlaedr unlocks the door and closes it behind him. He hangs his coat on a nail in the wall. He turns on the little heater, and goes and stands by the small, dirty window, overlooking a wonderful view of an alley in Britain. He growls softly.

He doesn’t quite know why he chose to live in Britain. Maybe it’s because of the wonderful weather. Maybe it was the allure of their accents. But one thing he knows is that they have wonderful tea and those types of herbs always seems to always calm his inner... Well.....

Loneliness may also have been a factor. He may have travelled the world, but still none friends had shown themselves. The world is a cold and hard place for an outsider.

He fought against the urge to eat the homeless person in the alley. He won.

Sure he had met people who could do spectacular things, things that seemed to cross into what his beloved Doctor had called “magic”, but when he had approached them they usually shouted something like “Vampire!” or “Kill it!”.

This Vlaedr did not understand. He had watched all of the Twilight movies and he definitely did not sparkle in the sun or have a mane of amazing hair. Well he had hair, but it was matted and uncombed. He thought of it as fur. Something you don’t comb or make neat.

Vlaedr liked this spot. It was his small cave. He loved having his back against the wall, ready to pounce if someone challenged his safety. Speaking of safety...

Turning to the pile of packages he had brought with him from the shoppes, he ruffled through them, unpacking them on the floor. He had figured that some things you just can’t scratch to death, so you had to have a weapon or two. Or three.

The first weapon he had “picked up” was a Beretta M9. It shone with a nice black sheen, and he had “acquired” four clips for it. All in all, it seemed like a nice handgun.

Next to it sat a dark Ka-Bar USMC. With it came a nice sheath, which fits snugly on Vlaedr’s thigh. The blade was sharp, something Vlaedr had made sure of.

And finally, for when things get “hairy” there stood three standard issue frag-grenades at the end of the line.

Now Vlaedr wasn’t one for stealing, but was it stealing if it was already stolen?

He didn’t think so. Black Market dealers were nice and cheap, included that you know where to find them. Vlaedr had a few contacts, and knew their language, and how they talked. Or squealed.

One of those contacts was a random man with an AK47, which he had used to on Vlaedr. Also shouting something like, “Die filthy vampire, die!”. Vlaedr didn’t know much, but he knew that this vampire thing was starting to annoy him. So he had dangled the man over the edge of a building until he had told or screeched the name of the person and place where he had gotten his weapons.

And then he ate the man.

But that was just details.

Walking down the street with his new toys, Vlaedr felt quite safe. Well, reasonably safe.

He had quickly learned that just walking down a street didn’t cut it.

You had to watch for threats, keep a razor eye on other people, and scan the roof tops for creatures. This world he was beginning to understand was rather dangerous.

So he walked. And watched.

That was until, a van hit him from behind, throwing him into the wall.

Roaring, he ripped a stop sign out of the ground and slammed it into the front wind screen. It didn’t even crack.

A small, Thibt! , and Vlaedr was down.

Four men quickly grabbed his unconscious body and dragged it into the van. The last thing Vlaedr heard was the Clang! of the doors being closed and one of them saying in a deep voice: “Another one of them Vampires! Ha! The boss will be glad.”

Lord Vlaedr, was starting to hate these Vampires.

Love it, hate it.... I dont care really. Just comment.

AND! I have been told to mention other people I am supposed to follow. As in their blogs. Not literally them. Whatever.

I will follow These People's Blogs: Luciana, Ink, Flame, Sparky, Lynxia, Robin, Val, and Rim...

There Ink, did I miss anyone? DID I??????


  1. If you did, i've forgotten them too!


    Und, i like the story! Sooooo . . . I'm guessing Vlaedr's a vampire and doesn't know it. Which would be intriguing enough anyway without the kidnap-thingy at the end. Which leaves the reader wondering what will happen, which is good, but you figured that out already coz you aren't stupid.

    Oh, and, short chapters. Good idea. Mine always end up being pretty long . . .


  2. Hahahaha.
    Oh, I wouldnt be so sure about the Vampire thing....

  3. On the last post, Star said something about "mentioning"?

  4. Well, she wanted me to mention the other people whom I would follow and read their blogs. You were one of them.

  5. ~grins~
    I like it. It's funny and cleverly written. ~nods~

  6. I'm not sure if you want me to comment here. But as I have finally decided it was time to read all your posts, I am going to make up for my inconsideration in the past and comment where necessary. I was GOING to post a comment on EVERY post, but it was so hard for me to ruin the way that your comment rate escalated over time, proving your gradual escalate in awesomeness. I find myself looking at this like a history lesson. A good history lesson, not the boring kind that we sometimes are forced into.
    I must tell you I really was conflicted for the first ever post you posted, because I wanted to say: [This post is invisible]
    Not that you'd have NOTICED... but it still wasn't worth it. I'm kidding, of course you'd have noticed. A blogger is a blog's vulture. Vultures can see invisible things.
    ANYWAY... If you want me to stop commenting because I'm ruining history... please tell me...
    This story is so good. I always find myself in wonder reading your stories. Though I do for many. Except my own.

    1. Thrust, you can comment ANYWHERE you want!

      Naw, stoppit.... #.# You are faaaaaaaaaaaaaar too kind with your words......

      Keep commenting and thanks for your great support, mate!

      You are a true bro.