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| Activities Among the Amish Children | |
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| Topic Started: May 15 2009, 11:04 AM (1,471 Views) | |
| New Harumf | May 15 2009, 11:04 AM Post #1 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Gustaphus Bedlaam was a curious sort. Raised strict Amish he still managed to always get in trouble. This was fine while he was under the age of maturity, but since he became an adult, and a full membver of the community his daydreaming and troubled ways have continued. Elder after elder have tried to talk to him, but it always seems to fall on deaf ears. He would stare at the elders with his doe-like brown eyes while his redish-brown hair flopped onto his forehead, and simply glaze over. Still, he was a basically good man. He went to prayer meetings regularly, respected his elders, obeyed his parents, and was a hard worker when set to a task; but still - folks said he was a dreamer. Even Gus was aware of this problem. No matter what he was doing: milking cows, plowing fields, building chicken coops, repairing fences, he always was far away from the task, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming. His sister, Suzanne, always said, "Gus, you're pixillated! The pixies have gotten to you!" He would chase her while she squealled in laughter, but he would laugh too, making sure he never caught her! Yes, Gus knew he was different, but it didn't bother him the way it bothered others. Only one person seemed to understand him, and that was Gretchen Lobe, the old crone who lived in the woods behind the meeting house. Whenever he passed her way (which he did quite often since his short-cut to the meeting house went right my her front porch) she would laugh, and invite him for a glass of lemonade on her stoop. She would talk of old times, when, she said, the woods around this part of the Amish land were full of monsters, and gouls, and every bridge had a troll under it. He would listen, eyes wide open, taking in every tall tale. But she would also listen, and Gus talked about his ideas and fancies and dreams. Yes, only the old crone Grechen Lobe understood young mister Bedlaam. (to be continued) |
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| New Harumf | May 18 2009, 09:24 AM Post #2 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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On this quiet Monday morning, Gus was sitting on the crone's porch, sipping lemonade, when the crone sighed. "What is it Frau Lobe? Why such a heart-wrenching sigh?" "Oh me. I would like to see into the future so I could see what becomes of you, boy. What with the Dominion occupying our land who knows what will become of any of us." "Well, I know there are many things you do see, frau, but I don't think even you can see into the future!" said the young man, laughing. "Don't be so sure of yourself, Gus. In days of yore such a thing was possible. Unfortunately, I haven't got an eye, and the knack has long disappeared." Gus sat silent for a moment, and the crone kept staring at the woods before them, but she had a sly look on her face, as if waiting for something. Finally, Gus said, "What do you mean, "you haven't got an eye"? Do you need some sort of extra eye to see into the future?" "Well, of course, young man," the crone said, smiling, "but not the type of eye you think. By eye I mean a crystal eye, or glass globe. Someone with the knack could stare into such a ball for a short time and see as far into the future as she wanted." "Is that all?" exclaimed Gus. "Then why didn't you say so. Such a globe should be an easy task!" With that Gus leaped up, and took off into the woods. The crone smiled, almost an evil smile. |
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| New Harumf | Jun 24 2009, 11:00 AM Post #3 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Gus searched all the Amish lands until he reached the mountains, and still could not find a proper "eye" for the crone. After wandering for days in the foothills he came accross what looked like an old abandoned mining site. Machines the size of which he had never seem before were everywhere, all rusting away, and one giant steel structure dominated the site. He went into the huge building and could still smell the sulphur and coal that once must have burned in this hell. It was an old steel foundry, littered with all the tools of the trade. No crystals would be here, he thought to himself, but what a huge building! The design was surely Amish, but the building materials were brick and conctete. He was never a good student of history, so as far as he knew it was built by some alien civilazation, and not by the dictator Joe Staal. He finally left the structure by a rear door, and began crossing an open, clear space. In the center was what looked like a wooden platform. He stepped up and began to wonder what it was. He pounded the wooden floor with his boot, and heard a hollow sound. He tried to look through the platform cracks, but could only see blackness. Then, he froze stiff as a board when he thought he heard a whisper from under the platform. "Whhhoooo?", it sounded like, low and soft. Gus got on his knees and listened closely. "Wwwhhhhoooooo?", came the sound, again, sounding like the wind. "Is someone there?", said Gus, softly. There was no reply, only silence, so Gus thought he might be hearing things. "Well", he thought, "if ghosts were to live anywhere, this would be it." He stood, took a step toward the back of the platform, and suddenly felt the wood break away. For a moment, he hung in mid-air, with a puzzled look on his face. Then, he started to fall. And fall. And fall. |
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| New Harumf | Jun 26 2009, 11:11 AM Post #4 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Gus woke up in bright sunlight. Once he shook the cobwebs out of his brain he looked around. He was sitting in a green mountain meadow along side a babbling brook, and bees and other insects were buzzing around him in the warm mountain air. "What happened?" he thought to himself, remembering the platform breaking away and falling into the dark recesses of some sort of pit. "Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?" He shuffled over to the stream and began cooling his forehead with the icy water when he saw the glow on the creek bed. It wasn't deep - not deep at all, but he couldn't make it out because of the Sun's reflection on the water and the swift movement of the current. He reached in, and pulled out the most remarkable thing he had ever seen. It was perfectly round from what he could tell, and felt very cold to the touch, but then, he had just fetched it out of the cold water, so why not. It was also perfectly clear - he could see right to the center with no distortion, and there didn't seem to be a flaw in it. It might have been glass, but it might as well be some crystal - its surface was so smooth. "It must be for the crone!", thought Gus. I must bring it to her. He looked around him and saw his pack, and carefully placed the crystal inside and slung the pack over his shoulders. He stood and looked around - upstream was a high, snow-covered craggy peak, but down below he could see the Black Forest, the very forest where the crone lived and where he needed to go! How he could end up so close to his destination, he had no idea, but here he was. He quietly thanked God for ending his search and for leading him to the crystal. What he didn't know was that in his pack the crystal was glowing in it's dark surroundings, and sickly shade of green. |
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| New Harumf | Jul 8 2009, 10:06 AM Post #5 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Gretchen Lobe was hanging wash on a line on a clear summer day after finishing her laundry in the bucket by her front door. Not much light got through the heavy canope of the forest to touch her wash, but the dry air would have everything finished in no time as the breeze was constant, though gentle. Her craggy old hands worked quickly, belieing the soreness in her knuckles, and her wrinkled old face was emotionless while she went about her work. As she was hanging her last sheet, she heard a voice in the woods. "Frau Lobe?" came the familiar call, and her face changed from its frozen state to a large smile. "Frau Lobe? I have it!" She waited patiently for the lad to make his appearence from the darkness of the woods, and wondered what he was carrying on about. "I have found it for you!" came his call, again. "What are you chattering about boy?", shouted the crone, into the woods. "Come here and let me see you." As if by magic the boy popped out of the woods into her small clearing, and he was practically running toward her with his pack still strapped to his back. "I hope you bought me something to eat." Gus came up to her, plopped himself on the stoop, out of breath, and pulled the heavy back off his back. "Oh, Frau Lobe, much better," he said breathlessly, "much better. Much . . ." "Catch your breath, boy. You are making no sense. What are you talking about?" "I got it for you, I found it," said Gus, a little calmer now, as he rummaged through his pack. "Here, Frau. What you wanted. An eye." Finally, Gus pulled the perfect crystal from his bag, and proudly showed it to the crone. "Aaahhh?" she gasped. It glowed a pale blue in his slight hands, reflecting the sky visible directly above. She watched it for a whole minute, saying nothing, then finally, "How? Where?" Then she added, in an awe-like voice, "It's perfect . . . but how?" So Gus began to recount the story of his search. Meanwhile, back by the mine, and the shaft that Gus had broken through, long, black shadows covered the hole and the wooden cover. If you looked carefully in the faint reflective light, you could make out coal-black shadows of strangly shaped, almost human-sized "things" climbing slowly and timidly out of the shaft, one or two a minute; and if you were there, and one looked your way before slithering into the surrounding wooded mountains, it might growl at you because of your presence, and you would notice the sharp white teeth in its over-sized grin, and the strong white claw at the end of each of it's twenty fingers and toes. Then, perhaps, you would close your eyes, shake your head, and look again hoping the vision would vanish. Or, perhaps, you would run. Edited by New Harumf, Jul 8 2009, 10:07 AM.
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| Filo | Jul 8 2009, 11:36 AM Post #6 |
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General
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OCC: What are they? i'm curious... |
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| New Harumf | Jul 8 2009, 12:24 PM Post #7 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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You must wait and see! :D |
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| New Harumf | Jul 23 2009, 12:07 PM Post #8 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Alice Whooten was twelve years old. She was a very typical Amish child, fond of work, and fond of play. She was not the brightest child living in the Southern foothills, but far from the slowest; and she was a good girl. She never had a thought against her parents, or her God. She studied all her lessons in school, learned her bible, and always, always obeyed her elders. She played with her light-brown curls under her bonnet as she strolled down the path toward home. It was late, her mother might already be putting dinner on the table, but she wouldn't be punished for staying so long at her grandmother's house. Gran was not feeling well, and Alice's company always cheered her up. The Sun was low in the sky, and dark shadows were starting to creep and cover the path, but Alice didn't mind. She knew the way home by heart, and could traverse the dirt trail with her eyes closed, and, anyway, she could see the old Moss Bridge in front of her, meaning she had less then ten more minutes to walk, even at her leasurely pace. She reached the bridge, with it's solid wooden planks and began accross. Plunk. Plunk. Plunk. Her steps made the usual horsey sound as she strolled along. Then she stopped. "Hello?" she said out loud. She could have sworn she heard a voice. "Who is there?" she said softly, but there was no reply. Maybe it was just the rustle of the wind. She started walking again. Plunk. Plunk. Now that was definately someone, and she came to a quick stop again. "Donnie Jouran, is that you playing tricks? Well, you won't scare me, so come out from where you are hiding." She listened carefully, hoping to hear her nine year old neighbor's laughter, but there was, again, only silence. "Well, crickets and toads!" she said, out loud, and started to cross again, but before she could take a step, she heard it, this time, perfectly clear. I heard you this time, Donnie Jouran, she thought to herself. Well, we'll see who can scare who!. Very slowly, and very quietly she tip-toed to the far end of the Old Moss Bridge, without making a sound, and rounded the end post, off the path. When she got to the esge of the Old Moss Creek she got down on her knees and looked under the bridge. Sure enough, crouched down on the other side of the creek, in the darkest shadows, she could make out the outline of someone. OK, Donnie, now let's see how high you can jump she thought. She slid right down to the water's edge, to get as close as she could, then put her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound, and then let loose with a blood-chilling sheer scream as loud as she could, and if you've ever heard the shreek of a twelve year old girl, you know just how loud and high a pitch that can be. Instead of jumping up in a jolt, however, the figure just turned quickly to face her, and the last rays of the Sun hit it's face. It grinned, showing it's large, yellowed teeth, and it let loose with an unholy sound, not quite a howl, not quite a growl. Then quick as lightening, before Alice could let out a real sacream, it was on her, tearing flesh with claws and teeth, then ripping mouthfuls of her once creamy, white skin and swallowing greedily. Within seconds, two more identical things jumped into the bloody mess and began eating their full as well. Within three minutes the bones were stripped of every last bit of flesh and muscle, and they had all been cracked and sucked dry of their marrow, then tossed carelessly into the stream. Alice never showed up for dinner. Never again. |
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| New Harumf | Aug 3 2009, 03:02 PM Post #9 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Gretchen Lobe sat in her little living room at a small table. Sitting opposite her was Gus, wide-eyed and enthusiastic, as always. Between them sat the globe crystal, dark, reflecting none if the fire in the hearth. Gretchen stared deep into the crystal, trying to see some spark of life. "We don't know for certain what sort of crystal you have brought me, little man, so we must be careful, so very careful, lest we mis-use it." "What are you looking for, crone? You stare at the stone so hard." "Shush," said Gretchen. "I am trying to concentrate, and you are being nothing but a pest. Sit there quietly, or I shall throw you out on your impish tail." She continued to stare, harder. Then she mumbled something low, that sounded to Gus like, "Klatu. Barata. Nectu." but he couldn't be sure. Then, ever so slowly, almost inperceptible, a small light started to form at the center of the globe. Blue as ice, and ever so faint, it first flickered, as if trying to find life, then it grew, brighter every minute. "Ah," whispered the crone, "I am beginning to see something. Men. Men in uniform." "Dominion men?" asked Gus, eagerly." Gretchen ignored his outburst. "No, older men. Darker men. Amish men. They are men working for Joe Staal, deep, deep in the mines. I cannot quite make out what they do. I see the shape of a large room, and some tables covered in white, with objects laying on them, but I cannot make out the objects. No. Wait. They are not objects. They are women. Young women giving birth. Here, one is giving birth right now? Ah, a new life is . . . ." "What?" whispered Gus. Gretchen could not answer. She had seen something hideous born, not human, not animal. Something already hairy, with fully formed sharp teeth. She stood, and went out for air. It was all making sense to her now. Back in the dark days under Staal all the farmers disappeared, but not all went to the factories. Some of the farmers were the best in their field. For centuries some families have been handing down the fine art of animal husbandry, but with special gifts. They had a knack for seeing some latent characteristic in the breeding stock, and by selective mating, being able to bring out that feature, and make it dominant. They could breed to remove sharp teeth from dogs, or increase milk production from goats and cows, or more marbled meat from steers. It was a remarkable gift. If this knack worked on livestock, well, then, couldn't it work on humans themselves? Select the trairts you want to emphisize, and then through proper breeding, produce modified offspring, even mutant offspring. Even monsterous offspring. Gretchen had regained her composure, and re-entered her little cottage, but she could not believe her eyes. Gus was on the ground, and the crystal was levatating in the air. She rushed to Gus, checked his pulse, and shook him quickly, saying, "What did you do?" "I . . . . I . . . I just wanted to make a wish." "Fool! This could be a wishing stone, and wishing stones will make a sincere wish come true, but never as you expect. It is always corrupted and twisted. What did you with for?" "Oh, mistress. If I tell it . . . . . . " "Shut up, boy." she shouted. "Now, what did you wish?" "I . . . I . . . . wished for all of Gassel's men, and all of the Domenion men never to be seen in the Amish Lands again." "Oh, what have you done!" she said, and rushed to the window, throwing out the shuttters. It was the worst of solutions. Rolling in from every derection was a very heavy, dense fog. So heavy you could not see your hand in front of your face. Also, in the fog were growls and howls, unearthly noises. "Quick. Close all the doors and windows, and bar them. Oh, little man, what have you done?" |
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| Deleted User | Aug 3 2009, 06:08 PM Post #10 |
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Deleted User
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Amish? |
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| Deleted User | Aug 3 2009, 10:23 PM Post #11 |
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Deleted User
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But Amish people? |
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| Alberto | Aug 4 2009, 05:05 AM Post #12 |
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Resident Italian
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OOC : That was a great surprise even for me, and what is the worst is that these crazy people are my neighbours . |
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| Tristan da Cunha | Aug 4 2009, 05:13 AM Post #13 |
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Science and Industry
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wait, nvm
Edited by Tristan da Cunha, Aug 4 2009, 05:21 AM.
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| Quaon | Aug 4 2009, 08:42 AM Post #14 |
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A Prince Amoung Men-Shoot First and Ask Questions Later
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OOC: Alberto, what's particularly wrong with the Amish? They're peaceable, friendly people who treat others very respectfully and humbly. Beyond that, they make really great food. While obviously I find the whole lack of technology thing a bit odd, and I dislike some of their social conservatism, the Amish are a decent, hardworking people, deserving of respect and admiration. |
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| New Harumf | Aug 4 2009, 08:46 AM Post #15 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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I think he was referring to IC. The crazy Amish Children IC live next to Moravia on the European map! I don't think he has a problem with the "real" Amish. Edited by New Harumf, Aug 4 2009, 08:47 AM.
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| Alberto | Aug 4 2009, 08:49 AM Post #16 |
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Resident Italian
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OOC : Considered that I am an Italian who lives in Belgium, I never had to do anything with them in RL . However in NS they are a quite unique people, and they surely are strange compared to more " normal " nations... |
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| New Harumf | Aug 6 2009, 09:36 AM Post #17 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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"Damn this fog!" Dave said, as he and his patrol mate walked the railyard parimeter. "What the hell use is guard duty anyway when we can't even see our feet through this crap." "Look," said Pete, "this is the easiest station I have had since the war started, quit your bitchin. These Amish are too chicken-shit to cause trouble, and they don't carry guns, so we could be blind, and we could still do this duty." "Ah, fuck! This fog isn't even fog! It's not wet, don't ya get it? It's not wet, and it's not smoke, and it's here day and night. It's just not natural and it creeps me out." Dave took another step, then stopped. "What was that?" "What?" whispered Pete. "I didn't hear . . . . " There was a rustle, like a bush shaking. "Who is there? Identify yourself and come forward!" Pete was demanding identification into the fog ahead of them. Dave raised his firearm, and aimed directly in front of him. "Who goes there?" There was a faint sound, almost like a baby laughing. "Identify, or I fire?" Dave was now looking at Pete, who also had his rifle raised. Pete didn't look calm at all. He looked ready to snap. Dave tried to use his flashlight, but it barely made a dent in the fog. Pete turned on the transmitter on his collar. "Patrol four-one-three to base, patrol four-one-three to base, come in base." The radio squawked back, "Base to four-one-three, we read you loud and clear." Pete continued, "Something out here, base. Something in the fog. We are investigating possible intruder. We will . . . . " Dave's flashlight disappeared from his hand, as if something quickly grabbed it from him. Both men peered into the fog, and then they saw a light beam only a foot or two in front of them. Pete didn't hesitate, he opened fire toward the light. Dave began firing only split seconds behind him. There was an unearthly scream, followed by silence. The men slowly moved to where the light had been. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back at Rail Center Protection Base 44 (RCPB44), Leutenant Pickett listened to reports coming in. "Four-one-three; we have opened fire at an unidentified intruder. We are moving to invest . . . . God Damn! **shots firing** What the hell is that? **more shots** (other voice) Hey, somethings got my . . . . . ahhhhhhhh! Oh shit!! Oh dear God, HELP! (first voice) Pete? **more shots** Oh my God, PETE? (other voice) oh, mama, please, oh God, oh God (first voice) ahhhhh, HELP, argh **girgling noises, followed by chewing noises** "Four-one-three, come in?" said Pickett, "Come in, four-one-three". Suddenly, on another channel, "Base we are under attack, I repeat, we are under attack. Oh-two-two is laying down defensive fire. Three men missing . . . **rapid automatic weapons fire** Oh, shit . . . **silence**" "What the hell?" stated Pickett. He picked up a different phone, "Ar-see-pee-bee four-four reporting breach of yard parimeter. Request immediate backup and support. I repeat, request immediate backup and support. We are under attack." Pickett was about to repeat his request when the glass in his office window burst in, something moved like lightening, and then slashed at his neck. His face took on a startled expression, then his head fell off his neck to the ground. |
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| Rhadamanthus | Aug 6 2009, 09:43 AM Post #18 |
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Legitimist
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Ghost Stories During the latter part of the Dominion War, the western parts of the Empire of the Romans were being progressively liberated by coalition forces with the hope that the Roman Empire could then quickly join the coalition’s war against Catholic Europe and the Dominion. As the Dominion’s vice grip loosened and various parts of Europe became free, the Romans emerging from their own period of occupation were very concerned with the status of the other countries in Europe. One of those countries was the Amish Children, who had supposedly been under Dominion occupation, but lately no news or information had come out of the country. No one even seemed to be able to look through their borders in order to find out what the situation in that country was. The Roman Empire was still recovering from its occupation and was limited in its military strength, so it opted to aid the coalition in other ways for the time being. One of these was to assemble small teams to provide humanitarian aid and try to make contact with any resistance groups that might exist in the Amish children. One team was assembled under a minor officer, James Terzin. Starting in Roman Occitania, which had been liberated by the Yvelinais, the team moved north through Yvelines, and then proceeded east toward the border with the Amish Children. The initial leg of their journey was easy, but they were worried as to what kind of Dominion strength might still exist near the border, so they were proceeding carefully and making plans as to how they might sneak into the country. As they approached the border, Terzin and his men were confused to find that they could not see into the country at all. A thick and ominous fog seemed to permeate the country as they looked in, threatening to grasp forward and engulf them. The humanitarian team found themselves both terrified and compelled by the fog. Terrified, because of the utter darkness of it, and the way it seemed to occlude any sense of the Amish Children, but also compelled, as if they could not turn from it or think any other thought. It beckoned, hauntingly, singing a song of despair and helplessness. Terzin and his men were helpless to resist its dread allure. As they made their way into the fog, they could only see a few feet in any direction. They could not tell where exactly they were going, as the fog and the darkness of the Black Forest colluded to deprive them of their senses. They could occasionally here voices in the darkness, and they tried to find their sources, but they also heard other sounds, sounds that they did not think human voices were capable of making. An icy terror swam through the Romans’ veins, as they continued their expedition. Finally, growing tired, they set up a camp, taking turns to guard. Their sleep was not restful. At any rate, it was broken during the first watch by horrifying screams, inhuman growls, and the nauseating sounds of bones breaking and flesh being torn by teeth. The men awakened to find humanoid forms, which they could hardly make out, descending upon the expedition. Some tried to fight, while others tried to run or to hide from the ghouls. All were torn apart and consumed, except for one man, Terzin, who somehow managed to flee back out of the country. He tried to repeat what had happened, but could hardly speak coherently. He was locked up in a mental asylum for the rest of his life. |
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| New Harumf | Aug 17 2009, 01:53 PM Post #19 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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On a farm in Southern Amish Children, close to the forest: "So, you got one?" said Abel, and older farmer and community elder, as he and another walked toward the large barn some yards from the house. "How did you manage that?" "Well," said Saul, "the wife was headed to do the milking, early this morning, and what with the fog, and these monsters running about, I wasn't going to let her walk alone. So, I grabbed the pitchfork from the porch and walked her over here to the barn." They reached the barn, and Saul started to pull open the door. "Anyway, here was one of the critters in the barn, head halfway up ole Betsy's ass, making a meal of her colon. Betsy was dead, pretty badly tore up. Anyway, I took the pitch fork and stabbed at the critter, and at the same time, the wife dropped the lantern and screamed! Well, just at that moment Betsy's corpse let out a fart that would peel paint, and it ignighted like a torch! Blew that critter across the barn like a rocket, half its hair on fire, and I pinned it between the tongs of the pitchfork quick as that! Tongs went deep into the wood, and that critter was screechin and a hollerin like a demon from hell. Quick like, I got some ole chains, tied up his hands and legs, and hung him up from the rafters. Now, there he is!" Saul pointed to the middle of the barn, and Abel saw the creature, suspended, and hardly kicking, not making a noise, totally wrapped in thick chain. "Well, I'll be," said Abel. "Never seen one up close. Not even the one that killed my boy right in my own living room. Not as big as it looks in the wild." "Oh, don't let its size fool ya," commented Saul. "I gave it a pigtail weigh and figure it came in at one-seventy pounds. Found out some other things too! Watch." Saul went to a barn window, took a mirror, and shined light from outside toward the creature's eyes. It flinched, looked away, and squealed. "See, don't like bright lights. Turns away, like it hurts. Now watch this." Saul closed the shutter, darkening the barn to almost pitch black. He then walked within inches of the creature. He grabbed its head, and turned it toward him, and it yelled awefully. Then Saul made a fist, and punched hard toward its face, right between the eyes, then pulled the punch at the last second. There was no reaction. "See, blind as a bat in the dark." "Well, now. Who woulld have believed that!" "One more thing too." Saul said. "I've tried everything I could think of. Seems bright light hurts, but dim, difused light is what they love, so the fog makes them see best. It's like putting glasses on them." Then, Saul picked up a fire extinguisher. "Now, wait till you see this!" |
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| Rhadamanthus | Aug 22 2009, 08:23 PM Post #20 |
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Legitimist
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Father Michel Simone was a pious Catholic from Tulle, France. His had been a church family, where elder sons continued the family line, and younger sons all joined the church. His relatives before him had served in the Diocese of Tulle, and various other sees of the Roman Catholic Church. One of his kinsman, multiple generations prior, named Jean André Simone, had been Bishop of Toulouse in Languedoc, and had even been elected Pope, during the period of the Conclaves - he had reigned as Pope Gregory XVIII, Pope of Rome and Emperor of Catholic Europe. The Simone family had gone on to support the Catholic Church in Roman Occitania. They backed Josiah's bid for the throne, and continued to produce churchmen long afterwards. When Caesar Antonio's Catholic Europe had conquered the Orthodox Dawnsian Roman Empire, to form one united Catholic Empire that nearly spanned the Mediterranean. But they were not pleased. The Simones, like all true, pious, Roman Catholics, despised Caesar Antonio the Antichrist and Dominion Puppet. The Enemy of God. The Accursed One. While there was an active resistance against the power of the Pseudo-Catholic Antichrist, men like Father Michel fought the Antichrist in another way. They attempted to spread the word of God, that piety might annihilate the power of the faithless, and restore a just and pious Pope to the Earth. For this reason, Father Michel had crossed the border into the Amish Country, that he might spread the Catholic Faith among the heretics, and build a fierce Sword of the Faith that might cut the Dominion into a million pieces and restore the House of God. The thick fog had unnerved him, but he was ennobled by the strength that came of prayer. Saying prayers to the Lord Christ, the Holy Virgin, St Pope Emmanuel, Emmanuel Rose, and St Elizabeth Rose, he did not even flinch as he wandered the dark, insane, fog that occluded the Amish Children's land. He knew that his Catholic Faith would protect him - if not from material forces, at least from dark spiritual forces. No matter what might happen, he would not go to Hell, and that was enough. Father Michel was no longer sure what was going on, and while he sought out Amish to convert, finding village became increasingly difficult. The locals were hostile to outsiders, and terrified by the fate that had befallen their country. A gutteral, sub-human groan was all that alerted Father Michel when the thing came to tear him apart. He had been teaching the Catholic Catechism to a young Amish child. The child would not last much longer than the priest. But Michel Simone died peacefully, despite the horror of it. With Christ in his heart, he knew that he was going to Heaven. He blessed the child as he died, and begged God's forgiveness for all the monsters in the world, following God's just wrath, of course. |
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| Rhadamanthus | Oct 1 2009, 10:11 PM Post #21 |
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Legitimist
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Unholy things dwelt in the Amish country. That is what the old women whispered. Unclean things roamed the night. It was a small village in Roman Occitania, just verging on the border with the lands of the Amish people. In better times, the border had been peaceful and commercial, but of late it had grown more ominous. Had they been liberated from Dominion tyranny to face something still more malevolent? A vile and sickening fog seemed to seep forth from the darkened country across the border, threatening to draw this tainted march into the vile and opaque abyss that had taken over the Amish people's world. The Amish had been a pious people - how had this impiety occurred? Occasionally a village youth or a gentle maid tried to cross the line, and discover what had gone wrong. Sometimes one came back, but usually this was not the case. Cruel violence, and horrid inhuman movings stirred the Black Forest and broke the villagers who were foolish enough to cross. The elders did not approve of these wanderings. Prayers, rituals, and a circle. These were what the village's elders had prescribed as an antidote against the terror in the fog. To combat this evil, they had reverted to and older, more primitive state of religion, finding the gods of civilized men inadequate to address the horror which faced them. |
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| New Harumf | Jan 28 2010, 11:22 AM Post #22 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Years have passed. The Amish Children are a mere shadow of themselves, hiding in caves and locked huts. Starvation has been a constant friend to them as the men cannot work the fields in safety. Children disappear from their beds. The elders, after a year of ineffectual efforts against this plague of death, have finally called a meeting of all the village leaders they could muster. "We," began elder Thomas, "are here today to propose . . . " "Propose what?" shouted brother Amos. "What can you propose that has not already been tried. We are dying!" "Please, hear me out," said Thomas. "We were better off under Gassel's thumb," said Amos. "We were safe and protected. Now, we cannot leave our homes. Our crops are rotting in the fields." "Yes!" shouted brother Edgar. "What can we do but die?" General comotion broke out in the meeting hall. Shouting and arguments in every direction. Then, an extremely old man rose in the back of the room and began pounding his staff on the floor. Boom. Boom. Those closest to him stopped shouting and looked at him. Boom. Boom. Slowly everyone quieted. Boom. Boom. BOOM. Hard came down his last blow. "You are all women," said this old man. "Too busy gossiping and too slow at thinking." "What do you have to say, Elder Simon?" asked Thomas, giving the old man the respect his age deserved. Elder Simon was blind. The bandages wrapped around his head constantly oozed with a green puss from his infections, and leperous sores covered his hands and feet, but his voice was strong. "I am blind, yet I can see more clearly than any of you. God has abandoned us." "How can God have abandoned us? We are his most devoted children," said Thomas patiently. "You stupid man. Yes, we are his most devoted children, yet God has abandoned us. What does that tell you? Why do you think these children of the dark angel roam our land, kill our children and women, terrorize us? What it tells me is that God has not only abandoned us, but abandoned his throne on heaven. This is logic. This is the only logical solution." Thomas' jaw went slack. "Elder, that cannot be. God would not abandon his children." "Then you tell me what is the explaination? What else could cause this plague? I tell you God is not in heaven, and I can prove it!" "That is sinful speech. You cannot prove the existance of God. God does not need proof." "Quiet you fool." Slowly, Simon begins to unwrap his bandages. "I came to the realization last night that God had left his throne. That means only one entity could be sitting there now. No, not Lucifer, he has been cast down and is sending this plague against us. All that is left in heaven are God's heavenly army, the angels. The only angel with courage enough to sit on the throne of God is Michael." Simon was almost at the end of unwrapping his bandages. "So, I prayed, not to God, but to the Archangel. I demanded he restore my sight. Now, see!" With that, Simon threw his bandages to the ground, and an astonished crowd look at Simon. Puss and ooze still flowed from his rotted sockets, but in the middle of each was a tiny red light in the shape of a cat's eye. "See what the angels can do? I can see. I can see your souls, and they are all empty of God's grace." With that, Simon began to laugh. Many of the Amish fell to their knees. Some prayed to God. Some prayed to Michael. Others prayed to Rafael, Ariel, Gabriel. Others just looked in shock at Simon, shivering in fear. Simon continued, "I have spoken with Michael, and he has visited me, and he has instructed me. The 300 left this land to find a life in the New World, but I assure you, their souls have been dashed on the rocks. We must now rely on the army of angels to protect us, older than old, the true spawn of the true God. The only beings to have fought evil and won. Michael? Michael has demanded a sacrifice, as in the days of old, and he told me what that sacrifice must be." "What shall we do?" several voices repeated together, with looks of wonder on their faces. "Michael wants us to follow him, not some false leader. Michael demands the soul . . . . ". . . of Thomas." With that, Simon pointed at the chief elder. Thomas turned pale, but before he could speak in protest, several of the men near him grabbed him, and dragged him before Simon. "Your sin is pride, Thomas. Michael spoke to me about your pride." "I am not a sinful man, Simon. You have lost your mind!" "SILENCE!" shouted Simon. "Get a rope, and run it over the rafters. That is right. We shall hang him here, and build an alter to the Archangel in the courtyard where his body may be burned for the pleasure of our new god!" And so it was done. |
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| New Harumf | May 28 2010, 01:26 PM Post #23 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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Simon arose from stone stairs spiraling into a well-like opening in the ground and walked out onto the platform before the image of Archangel Michael. In the year since he led the people away from God, and toward Angel worship he has made this display of power. Standing before the Angel, arms spread to the graven image, eyes closed in reverence, Simon spoke: "The Archangel Michael has again spoken to me. Thus sayest Michaelangelo - look to your left. Look to your right. The man you see standing there might not be standing there tomorrow, for the first of seven plagues shall fall on my people. Not as punishment, not a vengence, and not for any sin. These plagues shall fall on you because I know some of you have not abandoned the old God of the foolish Elders. Identify them. Clense them." With that said, Simon collapsed, as he always does, to soon recover and look toward his people. "Let us pray." |
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| Filo | May 28 2010, 02:05 PM Post #24 |
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General
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OCC: Even more interesting...Could the Evangelical church of Germany send an envoy to investigate? I have just the right person... |
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| New Harumf | May 28 2010, 04:42 PM Post #25 |
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Bloodthirsty Unicorn
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OOC: The Land of the Amish Children is a dangerous place. There are monsters about as a result of Joe Staal's genetic experiments. A strange mist covers the land. The Dominion occupying forces mysteriously disapperaed. The land is infurtile. The people now perform human sacrifice. Send an envoy at your own risk (but, please, send an envoy!) :evil: |
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11:33 AM Jul 13