Word: Harbinger

 

harbinger

[ hahr-bin-jer ]

noun

1. a person who goes ahead and makes known the approach of another; herald.

2. anything that foreshadows a future event; omen; sign: Frost is a harbinger of winter.

3. a person sent in advance of troops, a royal train, etc., to provide or secure lodgings and other accommodations.

verb (used with object)

1. to act as harbinger to; herald the coming of.

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               The baby slept peacefully in his crib. His parents had just put him to bed, and had just collapsed onto the couch and turned on the TV. Thanks to that, they did not see the light. It started small and formless, but quickly grew in size and shape, resolving into the form of a woman. She was tall and slender, wrapped in nearly translucent white cloth, and seemed to be made more of light than flesh.

                She looked down at the sleeping child and a small smile graced her lips. She leaned over the crib and lightly ran a single finger over his still hairless head.

               “Ah, such a beautiful child.” She said quietly. “But such a grand fate. You will be the harbinger. The bringer of greatness. Although I do not know which you will chose to bring forth. Such a shame you will not remember this night. It would allow me to tell you so much. But for now, I should ensure you select my path to champion. Ensure that you become my harbinger. And for that, a gift. Hm, but which to give you.”

               She stood back and moved around the room, cradling her chin in her hand. She did not walk though. Her feet never once touched the ground. She stopped suddenly and her eyes glowed just a little bright.

               “Ah, I know. I know just the one.” She once again stood over the baby and touched his forehead. “I give to you the gift of Gentle Touch. It may not seem so grand, but once you fully understand it, you will do great things with it, and spread the way of light as you go.”

               When she pulled her hand away, a small white mark was left on his forehead. It was so tiny that not even his parents would be able to tell it was there unless they were looking hard enough. The woman of light backed away. Her head perked up and looked at a place that no human could see. Then, she vanished.

               Not a moment later, a new light appeared. This one was not exactly light though. It seemed to be a radiant mass of darkness, emitting it like a light bulb does light. And, like the first, this one quickly formed into the shape of a woman. Like her sister, she was tall and lean, dressed in fine black cloth that did not truly touch her. And she too was made not of skin and bone, but of living darkness.

               “Damn, looks like I’m too late.” She said. “Hm, let’s see. Ah, so you’re the harbinger of light and dark, eh? Not much to look at yet, but you’ll grow up well, I’m sure. Looks like she got her hooks into you though. What did she give? Gentle Touch? That’s it? She had the chance to give you an amazing gift, and that’s what she gives? Typical. Leave it to my sister to waste an opportunity. And now I’m limited in what I can give you. Can’t go upsetting the balance, now can I? Not that she cares, coming here and giving you a gift before I even show up. She always did seem to think that rules are for other people, but oh well. I can still give you a gift myself. Something to lead you down my path and become my harbinger. And I know just what to give you.”

               Without hesitation, she touched the baby, just a few inches away from where the light woman had touched him. When she drew her finger back, a black dot was left, just as tiny as the white one.

               “I’ve given you the gift of Bitter Truth. Shame I couldn’t give you Harsh Truth, but that one’s too big, and would overshadow Gentle Touch too much. Well, this one should be just fine. And should lead to some interesting encounters, especially when paired with my sister’s gift. I wonder which one you’ll end up using more. Well, I’ll be off. The night is young and I have a lot to look forward to. See you in a few years, boy.”

               When the dark woman left, the baby stirred and let out a few formless sounds. But he remained asleep. In his mind, his very first dream formed. A dream he would never remember, but would always linger in his subconscious. A dream of two women, one of light and one of darkness. 

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The beginning of something big maybe? Eh, probably not, but hey, you never know what the future might bring.

Word: Torrential

 

torrential

[ taw-ren-shuhl, toh-, tuh- ]

1. pertaining to or having the nature of a torrent.

2. resembling a torrent in rapidity or violence.

falling in torrents: torrential rains.

3. produced by the action of a torrent.

4. violent, vehement, or impassioned.

5. overwhelming; extraordinarily copious.

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               Jharr felt each blow in his arms. They cam fast and heavy, and he had to avoid most of them. But his opponent was not letting up for a moment. The huge man swung the great sword with far too much speed and precision. It should be a slow weapon, even for a man that big. But the attacks were coming with the speed of a dagger.

               And the worst part was that Jharr had no idea how his opponent was doing it. The man was using his weapon like he was under the effects of a physical reinforcement spell. But magic was forbidden in this tournament. And if he was cheating, the enforcer would spot the spell use immediately.

               That is, unless they were being paid off. He risked a glance at the enforcer through the torrential rain of sword strikes. The man had the glowing eyes of one using an identification spell, but they were looking at Jharr, and only at Jharr. The man was completely ignoring the obvious magic use. But the moment Jharr tried to counter with his own magical power, he would no doubt be called out immediately.

               But that did not mean he was helpless. He could still move his mana around, and make use of it in minor ways. He could not reinforce his body, but he could still sense the flow of magic in another. And maybe even do something about it. Sure enough, the man’s entire body was wrapped with the dense, flowing mana of a reinforcement spell. Jharr grinned.

               “So, how much did you pay?” He said, just loud enough for the large man to hear. For the first time, the rain of attacks faltered.

               “Wh-what?” The big man asked. His eyes darted around the arena, checking to see if anyone had heard anything. “I…I didn’t pay anyone anything.”

               “Then explain why you haven’t been called out for that boost spell you’re using.”

               Jharr finally had the chance to counter. He swung his blade with everything he could, pressing his opponent’s momentary distraction. The big man growled, and used his magically enhanced abilities to launch into a series of rapid strikes. But it was too late. Jharr knew how to win, and he had an opening.

               He ducked an attack and moved in close. His knee shot up and into the big man’s chest. The man grunted, more from surprise than pain. Jharr took the time to inject a tiny amount of mana into his opponent, setting it moving in the opposite direction as his.

               It would not do much, but it was a start. Jharr darted in and out, landing bare handed blows laced with small amounts of mana. None of them did much damage, but that was hardly the point. A real mage would have been able to deal with such mana infusions, but this man was no mage. The two torrents of blows went back and forth. The big man’s magically enhanced great sword cuttgreat arcs through the air at rapid pace, but none of them landing. Jharr’s light, weak unarmed attacks fell like raindrops, and doing about as much damage.

               And soon, it was done. The two opposing mana currents in the large man’s body weakened, and ultimately disbanded the spell. His eyes opened in shock and confusion.

               “What…what did you do? You…you can’t use magic.”

               “Not magic. Just a little raw mana. Perfectly legal by tournament rules. Let’s see how well you do now, shall we?”

               Without the magic enhancing him, the man’s attacks were slow. They still had a great amount of force behind each one, but when the attacks seemed like they were made underwater, they were easy to avoid. Jharr had no such difficulty. Once again wielding his sword, He easily ducked each attack and unleashed a flurry of quick blows that cut through skin with ease. No one attack dealt significant damage, but they added up.

               When the man finally fell, Jharr was taking deep breaths and he was covered with sweat, but he had won. He raised his blade to the air, letting the cheers of the crowd wash over him. He just hoped his next opponent would fight properly from the start. That always made these tournaments more interesting.

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 Not sure what to say right now. I guess just enjoy the story, okay?

Word: Mammonism

mammonism

[ mam-uh-niz-uhm ]

noun

1. the greedy pursuit of riches.

 

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               The alarm was being raised. The sound of shouting filled the air as everyone in the camp raced to gather weapons and get in formation. Well, what could loosely be called a formation anyway. This was not a professional war camp. It was merely a place for all the novice warriors to hide, fighting small animals to build their strength under the watchful eye of a few elders. Nobody was ready for real combat.

               One of the novices looked around at his companions. They were armed with simple weapons. Crude clubs and spears. None wore armor thicker than some thin leather and poorly treated hide.  Even he could tell their formation would amount to nothing. It consisted of the members of the camp hiding behind whatever they could in an attempt to ambush the attackers. The problem was that there was little real cover to hide behind.

               One of the elders approached. “Are you scared?”

               “Yes, elder.” The youth said. “Very.”

               “Good, good. Keep that fear inside of you. Remember it. Temper it. Let it be your armor that lets you live another day. But, like all armor, remember to take it off when you aren’t using it. Otherwise it will do nothing but weigh you down.”

               “Yes, elder. I’ll remember that.”

               The elder made to move on to the next youth in line, but was stopped.

               “Elder, I have a question.” He said. The elder stopped. “Why must we fight? I mean, why do they need to attack us? If they just left us alone, we would be fine hunting in the forest. Even our elite warriors would rather fight bears than anything else.”

               The elder hung his head and sighed. “That is not easy to answer, young one. They think us monster. They think us evil. And so they seek to kill us. At least, that is what they tell themselves.”

               “But it isn’t the real answer, is it?”

               “No. Do you remember those round metal disks we sometimes find?”

               “Sure. We keep them in the big tent. Why?”

               “Those are called coins. They love those coins. They need them. Damn need worship those things like gods. They will do anything to get more of those coins. They will kill, steal, lie, and betray for coin. They will run away, leaving their companions to die. They will slay their own leaders. Their leaders will trample those who don’t have coins. All of it to get more. And, since we have coins, they will come and kill us.”

               “So then there’s no need to fight.” The youth said, brightening immensely. “We can just leave the coins out for them to take and let them be on their way. We don’t need them, so there’s no reason to be killed for them.”

               “If only it was so easy. No, young one, it is never that easy. You see, those coming for us now get paid to kill anything that is not like them. Things they call monsters, including us. They will kill us, chop off our ears, and sell them for more coins. If we stand down, they will just slay us without a second thought. At least if we fight, we may be able to take one of them down with us.”

               “So, they kill us for their own greed?”

               “Yes. Oh, I am sure that some feel that they are helping their own. Some might have pure motives. But most simply wish for more coins.”

               The youth hung his head and thought about the elder’s words. “So there is no chance for us to talk? For us to avoid fighting them?”

               “No. I wish there was, but there is not. Now, young one, ready your weapon. The humans are coming.”

               The young goblin took a deep breath and lifted his crude spear. If there was no chance to avoid a fight, he would at least die as proudly as he could.  

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These days there's more and more media showing good goblins. Or at least, not evil ones. Of course, they're still the staple low level enemy in most fantasy games. Maybe someday they'll become something more. But that won't be for quite some time.