Support indie writers

Always happy to promote indie writers….Ho on…have a look.

Cristian Mihai

Hi guys,

It’s time for a bit of shameless self-promotion. Because I need your help. Because being an indie writer means that you rely on your fan/followers for income. Because you need to promote your stuff on your own, hoping someone will be interested enough to purchase.

So, yeah, by clicking here you will go to a page where you’ll be able to read reviews of books I’ve written. Also, from there you’ll be able to purchase book bundles (both in paperback and e-book formats.)

Also, if you wish to support this blog (and its only writer) you can contribute any amount you see fit here*. Funds raised will go toward editing my future novel.

If you wish to promote your blog/artworks/books to an audience of over 95,000 people, you can purchase advertising options from this page here. Do hurry do; spots are limited.

Help is…

View original post 68 more words


Obsessions, shiny things and death

I have become incredibly addicted to Dark Souls.  Now as someone that hates hard video games, I never thought I would say that.  However since the majority of people who play it end up loving it, I always thought that I would like to give it a try one day.

Now being both Scottish and an Aberdonian, when I saw it second hand for less than £10, I bought it.

Loaded it up and enjoyed the intro a lot.  not what I was expecting but it set the scene well.  When the game starts and I found out I was already dead…..well it intrigued me (I did not know very much about the game beforehand).

5 minutes in and a Boss battle happens.  If I had not read the sign on the ground, I would have tried to fight.  Instead I ran away and when I came back to face the Boss a little while later, I was ready.

I died.

However, the second time I beat it.  I was ready to take on the game.  It was hard but not as hard as I had been led to believe.  I went up the hill, got flown away by the big eagle and landed at the Firelink Shrine.  Feeling unbeatable, I ventured away from where the man at the shrine hinted I should go and ended up in a graveyard, where I found out that I could not actually kill the Skeletons.

I died.

I went back to reclaim my souls and I died again.

And again and again and again.  Yet there was something that kept drawing me back to have another go, to see if I could get past a particular bit.

Some of the bosses are a pain in the arse……the one in the small room in Blightown for example…..aaargh.

Yet I kept trying.  I knew what I had to do (combination of the internet and blind faith) and when I eventually beat him…I felt like the Highlander does when he cuts off an immortals head.

Except I have an actual Scottish Accent!

The whole game has been like that for me.  Currently in Anor Londo, level 54 and still as obsessed with the intricacies of combat as I was when I started.  The lack of actual story is what makes the whole experience so much better.  Never thought that would be a good thing but then again, I have obviously become reliant on Video Games holding my hand and leading me to the end.  There are very few video games that make me feel triumphant as I get past an area as this one.  Yesterdays burstfiction was a shameless attempt by me to write my experiences down.

I do not play online, so I know I am missing out on bits but the rest of the game is so rich and full of things to explore and try, I am not that bothered.

So go on, give it a try.  It may be the worst thing you have ever bought and you will curse me through the medium of dance.

Or it will draw you into its bosom and hold you there.  Whispering the soft words of a long dead language and you become as hollow as I have.  And you will be happy.

Praise the Sun

I awake as if from a dream

For a split second, all I can see around me are lush green trees and grass.

Then the reality sets in and my surroundings are rubble and mud.  My fire has almost burnt itself out and I shift slowly from my prone position to get closer to its warmth.  I do not remember going to sleep here but the evidence is there in front of me.  Despite my tiredness I had built a fire and arranged a camp for the night, seemingly on auto pilot.

I eat some meagre rations, not enough to tame the hunger inside me and I am left feeling as hollow as before.

Todays plan, go and find something to eat it seems. Standing up hurts parts of me that I did not know existed.  My chain mail creaks softly as I stretch, the links have seen better days and will need to be repaired soon.  If only I knew how.

Starting my trek to the broken down building that I can see at the top of the hill, I pass through an area of such desolation, that I wonder if anything had ever lived here.  The ruins ahead of me would seem to indicate that life had existed here, but it must have been so long ago.

What am I doing in such a place?  My memory is as rusty as my armour.  Images flash but they do not help.  The ruins are important, that much I am sure of, but the why escapes me.

By the time I reach the outer rubble, the sun is high above me. Its light provides no warmth but does allow me to see most of the way inside the building.  It looks like something from a dream.  Ornate carvings seem to decorate the walls, untouched it seems, by the passing of time.  Taking my time I crouch under what seems to be a half collapsed archway and venture inside.

This was some palace, that must be it.  Such glorious decoration could only have been paid for by the very rich.  A grand mirror stands unbroken off towards the end of the room I have entered.  Approaching it, I can see that the dust of the ages has covered the surface.  Using my fingers I brush as much of the detritus away.  The reflection has dulled with the passage of time but I can still make out my reflection.

It horrifies me.

My face is sunken and aged, my eyes wizened and tired.  I look as if I had died years past.  My travels have taken a heavy toll on me. If only I could remember what I was searching for, then maybe I could get some rest.

I hear the clang of metal on stone behind me and I turn quickly to face whatever has made it.  My sword slides out of its scabbard smoothly and glistens in the light.  It has served me well and I have no worry about putting my faith in it again.

The monster looks at me as I would look at a bug.  It is easily four times my height.  Its lips peel back to show blackened teeth as it moves towards me.  Looking around my position, I realise that it is now between me and any means of escape.  Gripping my sword on two hands, I slowly try to circle around the creature.  It anticipates this and thrusts forward with its weapon.  I see the lance strike the ground beside me, the force of the blow knocks me off my feet.  Scrambling up, I realise I am standing in a patch of green mist.  A side effect of the creature no doubt.  The mist seems to swarm around me, covering me in its fingers.

Then it is gone.

I feel slightly better, at least it was not poison.  I reassess my position and try to circle the other way but once again the monster reacts, his strike this time crashing off of my raised guard.

Then I see it, As the creature moves towards me, I can see a gap between its legs.  Not a large one but possibly enough to roll through if I time it right.

I start to run towards it and just as it attacks me, I roll myself underneath its vast bulk.  The pike shatters the stone where I had been just a moment ago.  Standing up, I see the exit ahead.  Do I run and have it follow me, or do I fight?

Slashing at the creatures legs draws thick black blood.  Its scream of pain reverberates throughout the stone walls and emboldens me to keep attacking.  Slash after slash draws blood from the monster and I lose myself in my possible victory.  Lose myself for just long enough to not notice that it had turned to face me.  Too late I see the point of the pike bear down on me.

I awake as if from a dream.  For a split second, all I can see around me are lush green trees and grass.

Flowers of evil in bloom

I wait at what used to be the shore and hope to see the ocean return.  Rising up like a majestic liquid creature of old and bringing life with it.

Unlikely on this dust planet but I was brought up to believe anything was possible.

I suppose that is why I ended up as an engineer on the Nexus.  Making sure that where the impossible existed, I did my bit to make it happen.  Working on the wiring that covers the circuit boards of reality.  Except that both do not really exist and are in fact constructs of a melding of minds.

Everyday is different.

Looking at the comm unit on my arm, I see that there are no new messages.  The Nexus must be dead by now.  When the faction invaded, it did so with speed and precision.  They knew exactly where to hit and when.  Someone on our side had betrayed us.  The chaos that came with them, flowed over our agents and eliminated any co-ordinated resistance.  The Artists Two were nowhere to be found and just before I sidestepped out of that reality, I saw a gaunt figure walking around indicating to his guards who to keep and who to kill.

It was a bloodbath.

So here I am, on a planet they will never search, waiting for an ocean to return.