Green ... With Envy

…As one the Gargoyles took flight, for their instincts did not need command … plus they were hungry.

Unbeknownst to the shivering stranger, his battle had just begun.
His souvenir and puzzlement of the moment were both soon to be lost…

… when the Shadows emptied into the Night sky, literally all Hell broke loose. The Winged Ones that had a thirst for blood were also young and had followed a vicious Leader… who was also careless and held no regard for their DarK life which he had created.
What he sought was revenge on the one who had taken something from him when he was young … the admiration of his Father.

…Within the safety of the windowless room of his stone Keep, the aging Alchemist leaned forward with amazement, puffing on his pipe, looking into the emerald green globe that the tiny critter was holding.
He watched as the stranger once again came under attack ... but this time, the stranger had company in his defense. Not out of any pre-arranged agreement, but out of benificial, mutual circumstances … for not only did the Gargoyles protect their home of an ancient Keep, which would have soon been under attack ... but they had not feasted for quite a while, especially on young fresh meat… which tonight there seemed to be plenty of.

Enthralled by the drama brewing in the emerald globe, the Alchemist spoke rather loudly to the owl, who had stopped preening his feathers…
“Boedee! Are you watching this!?” … Uri, the Hawk, who up until now had been perched on one clawed leg, with his head tucked under a wing, answered for Boedee with a screech… “Sorry Uri” … the old man replied without taking his twinkling hazel eyes off the sphere…

…the Alchemist and his birds were not the only ones staring into the emerald mist of a stage … the tiny Gargoyle holding it was grinning … and envious of his older and bigger siblings…

The Struggle

“Hmm… I see we might have a visitor Boedee... you are the wise owl... who do you think he is?”
Boedee Zaffa the Wise replies with a standard owl hoot, causing an eyebrow of the Old Man to raise in acknowledgement of the sarcastic pun… “real funny, Boedee”… Boedee ruffles his feathers and commences to preen them…
…the Old Man, sitting in a windowless study, uses a twig to tickle the dancing flame of a lonely candle... to light his pipe… puffing away... creating rings of smoke that seem to purposely float over to irritate the owl, who is perched on the back of one of the chairs... and now takes his turn to raise an eyebrow and return a sarcastic look at the man with the twinkling hazel eyes ... that are transfixed on the emerald green globe which is being held in the clawed hands of a tiny Gargoyle who is squatting on the long, rectangular oak table... covered with antiquated scrolls and books… other assorted writing utensils that a scribe would have as company … all covered in a crystalline sparkling dust…

*the Old Man watches as the stranger fiddles with the dagger and with what appears to be a magicians trick, makes it disappear*

…On top of the ancient keep, the grinning Gargoyle stares into the night, watching the shivering stranger slowly placing one foot in front of the other…

It has been many moons since any of the Gargoyles that call the ancient keep home have seen anything… natural…

The Awakening

*In the distance… the fingers of the One scratch through the fabric of Night, casting the light onto a mournful stage ... with an ancient keep as a destiny to be reached by a bedraggled character seen by the audience of the shadows ... and maybe the “Old Man”... as he watches the drama unfold in the cystal sphere, while he smokes on his pipe ... and sips a personal brew*

...I do not know what attacked me... the gentle rain that wakened me ... with it's pitter patter nudges ... left no visions in its puddles ... nor could I hear a message in the howling wind ... that I could distinguish... other than a strange laughter...

...my mind seems to be sinking to my feet ... like sand in an hour glass ...so sick ... like part of my soul is dying ... with a rhythm set by the pounding hammers in my head

*feebly cleans blade of a dagger on tattered cloak*

What ever it was that came at me, out of the DarKness, was very swift...
I managed to gouge out one of it’s eyes, I know that for sure because it is still in my clenched hand ... a souvenir of my struggle ... a reward for being lucky ... that being was unnatural, a creature like I have never seen.
The keep, I must force my weighted legs ... which are burdening me with their lack of desire to move my ass…

*in the distance, the Fingers of the One reach down and scatters the DarKness turning night into day {needs editing 12/11}… and thunder roars in the distance… echoing into a future time… and becomes the sound of music … known as …*
HEAVY METAL

*one of the Gargoyles perched in a lonely corner atop the keep opens it’s eyes … and grins…*

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

It is a cold, lonely night .... as I lay shivering in the shadows of the moon. I do not understand what has happened to me... but I don't like it... I must find shelter from the brewing storm, and soon... up ahead is a keep... maybe there I can find refuge.