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About SquirrelMonkey

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  • Birthday April 16

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    North. Wherever you live, I'm probably North. Unless I'm not, then I'm South
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    Epic fantasy, not-as-epic fantasy, science fiction, science, fiction, nonfiction, reading, basketball, reading about basketball, reading about things that aren't basketball, long lists with little to no relevant information, and corndogs.
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  1. Even now, looking back, it still feels so surreal... Sharp spikes of shale bit into Kilek's knee as he examined a few leaves from the blue undergrowth around his feet. The tree-line was a couple dozen meters back. It had taken him several days to get here after he discovered the absence of his magic. He stood up smoothly, hoisting his pack back onto his shoulder. Ahead of him lay a mountain. It wasn't particularly tall by the standards of this range, but it would be a difficult climb all the same. As Kilek hiked toward the peak, the short bushes and grass gave way to smooth gray stone punctuated by patches of tough lichens. Occasionally he would glimpse short burst of motion from the corner of his eye, small rodents darting into shadows beneath rocks. A sharp wind pulled at Kilek's hair, snapping him back to the task at hand. The breeze bitingly cold. He was at home in the barren rock as much as he was in the jungle. In his homeland he experienced the extremes of both, but it was never this cold there. Kilek gritted his teeth against the chills. Once more he tried to hear the rhythms, that comfortable tune that brought him lucidity in the wilderness, the melody that kept him sane out here. He couldn't hear it. Kilek sighed. He trudged on up the mountain. It was steeper than it looked from the base, but he had expected that. He was no stranger to great mountain ranges. Eventually Kilek had to climb with his hands as well, scrambling up the steep mountain face, bracing himself against the stone when the winds grew particularly fierce. Eventually Kilek reached a relatively flat cliff near the peak. He pulled himself up onto the cliff and sat down, letting his weary arms and legs rest. After he spent a few minutes like this Kilek stood up slowly, to the great protest of his aching muscles. As he rose Kilek strode to the edge of the cliff again, standing at the precipice, looking out over the great expanse ahead of him. Magestic mountains stretched out as far as he could see in front of him. The vegetation gave many of them a cobalt blue tint, only increasing their beauty. The winds seemed to howl through these mountains like a creature, spinning and leaping in joy. Kilek could see gusts flying between the peaks, almost like birds... Wait how could he see the wind? Kilek blinked and rubbed his eyes. Stumbling back a bit from the cliff's edge. No, he hadn't seen the wind. It was more like... more like a sound, the rhythms! Kilek realized. The tried to listen, tried to capture that moment again, but it had been lightning in a bottle. All he heard was silence. Kilek turned around and saw a thin tendril of orange mist, seeming to reach for him, emanating from the patches of lichen. He eyed it curiously but a rogue gust blew it away, dissipating into the sky. Kilek stood there for a moment, watching the intricate patterns made by the mist as it grew fainter and fainter in the breeze. Contemplating this Kilek turned back to the mountainous view, this time with less of an admiring eye, and a more practical one. He wanted to get deeper into the mountains, to uncover some of the mysteries in this wilderness. As Kilek picked out a path, thinking ahead to the days he would spend hiking it, he spotted a dot in the distance. It was flying, moving almost uncannily fast. As he examined it further Kilek could see it was just a bird, probably a falcon riding the peculiar winds that formed around the peaks. As Kilek watched, the bird soar, it sped down a narrow valley, disappearing behind a rock face. Kilek mentally changed his route to take him there. It was a good a place as any. Plus, the bird might be an omen, Kilek couldn't be sure. He had never been good at being superstitious. He always got things wrong. With a groan as he stretched his sore muscles one last time, Kilek began to descend the mountain. The climb had been necessary to get the lay of the land, but that didn't mean he liked it.
  2. "It is not down on any map; true places never are." The chirps, the buzz, the constant rustling. This, was the wild. Kilek took a big breath in, filling his lungs with humid jungle air before letting it out with a drawn out sigh. It was always a thrill when he got to the point when civilization could no longer reach him, no matter how hard it tried. No road crossed near enough to Kilek's path for him to hear the shouts of travelers, no domestic pigeons flew over his head. No, out here the only birds that he could see through the thick canopy were colorful jungle birds, or lean hawks. Kilek had been ecstatic when he had seen the offer from Dr. Gomez. Explore this strange land? Document the creatures and land he walked on, perhaps for the first time? It was the noblest of work, the things his forefathers did, back when his own homeland was strange to his people. This work was in his blood. Kilek's feet made little sound as he strode through the forest. This was unfamiliar wilderness. The trees, the grasses, the predators and even the pests were different from his home. So he walked quietly, and faster than he usually would. He could keep up that spry, quiet gait for hours, disturbing few of the jungle's larger inhabitants. He was a visitor here after all, best not to upset the landlords. Up ahead Kilek spotted a small cloud of flies hovering over a bush heavily laden with sweet smelling blossoms. As he passed Kilek reached out with his power, expecting the familiar tickling sensation on the scars covering his back and wrists. But there was nothing. Kilek reached out again with no result. What's going on? Kilek thought. He should be able to control these insects, bend them to his will, shape them as if they were an extension of his own body! Yet still, there was no prickling on his scars, no mental thread tying him to these creatures. They didn't resist him, he just couldn't feel them, couldn't do the thing he had been trained to do since he could count his age on his hands. Now that he had snapped out of his reverie, Kilek began to notice other strange things about how the forest reacted to him. He couldn't hear it. No, he could hear the sounds of the area just fine, but the familiar melody he was so used to hearing in the wild was not there. It was not here. Kilek dropped to his knees. He would have been a peculiar sight. An experienced woodsman falling to his knees in the middle of the forest without saying a word. He strained, he listened, he reached out, but he could not hear the rhythms of this place. As he opened his eyes, Kilek barely noticed a faint orange mist swirling around him, flowing in tiny eddies on the forest floor, reaching up with wispy tendrils, as if to touch him. Journal Entry 1
  3. Kilek frowned at the description of the creatures. Bug-like, certainly destructive. If he was at his best this seemed like the perfect situation for him. He wasn't however, and in his short trek through the jungle, he hadn't been able to feel the insects the way he should have. He couldn't go getting into trouble right now. Best to stick to his original plan. "I have to go, I wish you luck in reclaiming your home." Kilek called to the man as he began to back away. Gave a nod to the woman at the register. "And thank you for your help." Kilek turned and walked to the door, whistling a slow, exotic tune as he went.
  4. "Xer-Orian's?" Kilek asked inquisitively. He stood to the side of Renkor, leaning against the counter. It was probably rude to listen in on this, but Kilek didn't really care. "If you don't mind me asking, what are those?" This man seemed competent, and he recognized when he wasn't yet equipped enough to handle the current threat. Kilek was curious about the man's problem, but he was new here, and he definitely didn't want to jump in over his head and make enemies here. That hadn't worked out too well for him last time...
  5. "I'll take it." Kilek said, smiling. Paying for things was always the hardest part of shopping. That's why he used to skip that step. He slung a small leather pack off his shoulder and began to place the items on the counter inside, putting each one in separate interior pockets, or fastening them with straps. It wouldn't do to have things banging around loose in his bag while running away from something trying to eat him.
  6. Kilek pulled out a small brown bag of coins. He opened it and placed it on the counter. It was filled with about 25 gold coins printed with an unfamiliar face. They were the last gift he had from his old king's court. Not that the gift was given to him pre se, but that's where Kilek had "found" it, so he was grateful all the same. Each coin weighed an ounce. Most of the coins were a little grimy from dust and dirt, but as gold, they did not tarnish. "Gold, if you take it." Kilek said as he placed the bag on the countertop. "It's foreign, but the coins seem similar enough in size to what I've seen around here."
  7. Kilek sighed. He didn't want the weapon to explode in his hand. "Fine. Get whatever I need to keep my gun in good shape. I like being able to trust my tools." He should have enough money for this. Gold was a pretty standard currency, and where he came from what he had would definitely be enough.
  8. Kilek watched Aveline procure the supplies, impressed with her knowledge of the firearm he had been told was not widely used. The items before him were all he had learned to ask for, but he noticed an expectant look in her eye, though he couldn't guess as to what. "That would be all, unless there's something I'm missing?" Kilek intoned questioningly. He subconsciously counted out his money in his head. It should be enough, he wouldn't be needing much more in the way of manufactured goods after this.
  9. @Velinquish, et al. The young hunter, Kilek, smiled nervously at the increasing number of heavily armed people gathering near him. "You know, I need to get going, preferably to a place with a much lower ratio of deadly weapons to me." Kilek flashed another grin around the table. "And hey, if you ever catch wind of me somewhere, don't hesitate to call for me." With that, Kilek turned on his heel and swiftly strode off, disappearing into the crowd. Like a jungle cat melting into the forest.
  10. "Lead azide." Kilek replied, shifting from foot to foot. "And spherical." Kilek's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the entirety of the odd establishment.
  11. @Eclipse It's a cool concept. I haven't really explored fully modern technology in a high fantasy world all that much.
  12. Kilek picked up the pistol, holding it gingerly at first, turning it in his hands to examine the weapon. He tested the balance and feel of the gun in his palm. He let his hand fall into the grip on the pistol. "Nice." Kilek said praisingly. " He set the weapon down on the counter. "I will also need enough powder and balls to last me, if you would."
  13. "Functional replica would be fine." Kilek responded. "The original was... lost, some time ago. I'm just trying to hold on to my old man's legacy." Kilek smiled again. "Just make sure it works." Kilek reached into the same pouch he'd pulled the paper from, extracting a bag with gold coins in it. Scourges, it had been a long, long time since he had bought something. Gold was gold though, even if it had a couple years of grime on the outside. Kilek clutched the bag tightly in his hand. At least he'd been lucky enough to be holding onto it when he'd stumbled through the portal.
  14. Kilek, a young man in rough, forest stained clothing strode into the gun shop. His hair was matted, and his face looked slightly haggard, but his eyes were bright, flashing back and forth to take in the sights of the gun store. Kilek approached the counter, calling for one of the gunsmiths. "Hello? I plan on spending some time on the frontiers, and am in need of a weapon." Kilek slipped a rolled up piece of paper from a pocket in his trousers. "The particular weapon is rather specific. Lets say it has... sentimental value." Kilek firmly unrolled the paper onto the countertop, grinning as he did so. "I trust you aren't above dealing in antiques? If possible I want the gun that this paper indicates, with enough black powder and ammunition to last me a couple months away from civilization." The paper indicated the weapon Kilek wanted as a Colt Navy Revolver, although these terms were meaningless to Kilek himself. He was told that the gunsmiths would know what it meant, if they had a mind for history of firearms.
  15. Hey everyone! I'm interested in getting involved here!
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