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Sunday 18 August 2013

Moving: On and On and On and...

You get the idea...

This just doesn't end.  And now I'm out of money for the remainder.

The series of disasters that have plagued this move is endless. 

It begins with the bank having need of our house, this is due to a rather prolonged period of unemployment.  Then my car's emergency brake failed, and rolled from a centre park, across one lane of traffic and into a post, bashing the front end of it.  Not enough to kill it, but it did cost time and money to have it repaired.

Two of my dogs have come down with paralysis ticks.  These ticks poison pets, and taking them to the vets costs hundreds of dollars per incident.

My favourite cat has vanished. he's been weeks gone now.  I suspect he's dead from a tick.  Another has been missing for several days.  I fear she's gone too.

In returning fro the new house (In a trip fraught with trailer delays), the car my wife was in breaks down in a small town hundreds of ks from anywhere.  It cost time and money, as she had to stay overnight in this small town.

Items have been broken, and things have gone to shit.

The latest is borrowing a ute (pickup for my American friends) and borrowing a trailer,  in an attempt to move the stuff myself, and proceeding to damage both in a tragic jackknifing incident that happened when I tried to reverse the ute with the trailer still attached.

The whole thing is fucked.

I figure I'm about 20% moved.  I can't hire a truck, and I can't seem to get out of this place.  It may well be the last thing I ever do.  I have to go.  I don't have a choice.  And I've got a job, but its hours away from here.

It's like I'm battling an evil spirit or something.  Seriously, the place has got its teeth in me, and I'm not being permitted to leave.  And every time I try, I bleed a little more.

The stress of it is taking its toll.  Its effecting my decision making abilities.  I'm tired all the time.  I'm having trouble focusing, yet I know, the longer this goes on, the less likely I'll be financially, physically and emotionally capable of actually moving.  Any moments of merriment are snatched away almost before I can laugh reflexively.

Moving sucks chocolate salty balls at best.  And this move is the worst I've ever experienced, not only had it cost me time, its also cost me every cent I've got and its cost emotionally.

I can tell you I don't want to go on.  But I must.  As the Aussie band "The Angels" have said, "I've got to get out of this place, if its the last thing I ever do.."

Making it stop, I guess that's up to me.

Fuck me dead.

Sunday 11 August 2013

It's Been a Long Time

I don't know if any of you still follow this blog, or even give rat's ass about anything I have to say.  But I have had a disturbingly lot going on in the 7 months, including but not limited to, the loss of my crappy job, the loss of my house, severe depression, anger, fear and sadness. 

Blogging does help me deal with depression, and while thought about it a dozen times, I couldn't bring myself to write about it.  Indeed, thoughts of self destruction took precedence.  I had it planned, even managed to get rid of the wife for a few days to do it.  My plan was simple.  A sharp knife across the throat would have take care of it.

So.  Why didn't I do it?

I was watching tv, my inability to cope with my life had me try to find escape wherever I could.  I descended into the tv and video games.  Much to my wife's disgust.  Anyways, while I was watching, I saw a commercial for  and I learnt a few things.  I'm in the second most at risk age group in Australia.  My circumstances are the common reasons within that demographic.

I spoke to people by phone, and got my shit straightened out, more or less, because I'm still here.

Still breathing; and yeah, still smoking. It helps me cope.

So I'm up late tonight, smoking too much and watching Die Welle (The Wave).  The Wave is based,  loosely, on a genuine experiment by a high school teacher about fascism.  He used his class as a test group.  This German film is scarier, and more disturbing than the original which ran as an after school special on tv when I was a kid.  Its worth watching.

So, what's upcoming in Torggil's World?

I'm starting a new job in a few weeks.  Followers of this blog will know I've done it before.  I'm going back to taxi driving.  This time in Townsville.

More than just the town the Powerpuff team rescues on that show, It's actually a real city, in tropical north Queensland.  So I may change the name of the Blog to Torggil's Nights, or something. I'm going to try to do something on it every week. 

When the Eddard game starts back up, I hope to post more adventures as well. 

Also, the Australian Federal Election is coming up.  I know I have a take or two on that.

So hang ten everyone.  As soon as this move is over, I'll be back.  Regularly, I hope.

Thursday 31 January 2013

Eddard's Diary: Chapter 4

2: The Valley of Hobgoblins
Thoram did an inventory of the weapons found.  As a gesture of thanks he offered each us what ever we wanted from the inventory.  I took two finely made but plain daggers.  These were the only weapons he had that I could use.  But daggers were always handy, and I wasn't going to insult him by refusing his generous offer.
The next morning, we rode out, being competently led by the hunter.
It took us most of the day to reach Miklaus' valley.  When the hunter told us his lodge was in the next valley, Wren did a little scouting.
There were a dozen hobgoblins in the valley, practising archery, possibly there as guards.  There was no sign of Miklaus.  Thinking he may simply be in the lodge set apart from the humanoids, we decided a direct attack was in the cards.
We set ourselves up.  Logan and Garrus were taking point, lances at the ready.  I took the right flank with Thoram.  Azzarak and Ulf took the left.
We crept as close to the summit as possible, and then charged full speed down the hill.
We took them by surprise.  We were halfway down the slope before the creatures opened fire with their bows.  I fired back, wounding one and in turn, naturally, being wounded, but only slightly.
When we impacted their line, we swept it.  The opening clash left 6 humanoids dead.  I had some trouble taking mine out, wounded as he was.  Short swords are not very good when fighting mounted.
When I killed mine, I leaped off my horse and ran for the house, concerned that we could be under attack from the dwelling, not knowing how many people were inside, or what weapons they had.  I guarded the entry as the rest of the party finished off the hobgoblins. 
It didn't take long, and during the rest of that fight, no one came out of the house. 
With a short sword in either hand, I covered the locked door to the lodge.  And shortly, the rest of the party joined me. 
Thoram didn't hesitate and simply walked through it.  His sheer strength has always left me in awe, and this occasion was no exception.
The house was empty of anyone save ourselves.  We searched it thoroughly, there was little loot.  We weren't gentle.  I was sure that this man was the local source of many wrongs in the area.  It was wren that drew my attention to something.
It the valley to the north, there seemed to be plenty of smoke rising into the air.  My first thought was perhaps a forest fire.  I asked he to go check it out.  She headed up the slope quickly, and it wasn't long before she returned.
"Hobgoblins."  She said, out of breath.  "Five hundred of them."
I think everyone in the party swore at the same time, to their own Gods.  The number was direct threat to the baronies, and perhaps even the county.
We needed to get the Hells out of there.

Monday 28 January 2013

Something to think about...

We Are People


We are people.
We are not gay, straight, or bi.  We are all these things, and so much more.
We are people.  We are not black, white, Asian, or aboriginal.  We are all of these things, and so much more.
We are people.  We are not Jews, christian, Muslim, Shinto, Buddhist, atheist, or any other religion.  We are all of these things, and so much more.
We are not rich or poor.  We are not pretty or ugly.  We are not old or young.  We are not male nor female.  We are all of these things, and much, much more.
Why we insist on narrow viewpoints, limiting perspectives, and closing our minds to new ideas is beyond me.
We are people.  We need to be equal in standing, in rights, and in potential.  Should we ever achieve this, humanity will leap forward.
We are weaker when any of us is thought of as just gay.  Or just Muslim.  Or just black.  We all fail in our potential.  That is our weakness.  That is our critical flaw.  It is why we fight, why we weaken ourselves, and why we deny recognition of others, and therefore, through that precedent, ourselves.
Our strength as homo sapiens lies in our diversity.  Our willingness to adapt to new ideas, share new philosophies, and use them to change our perspective.  We grow, we develop, and we improve as we change, progressing ever forward and these ideas and philosophies are applied.
We are all people, as different as we are from one another.  But because we are people, we are also the same.
Copyright 2013 this blog.

Friday 11 January 2013

Eddard's Diary: Chapter 4- Siege at Halfbrook

1. Smoking Inn

Two more miles, and my worst fear was realised.  The Troll and Maiden lay in ruins.  There were men, the Duke's men by the look, poking through the still smouldering remains of the Inn.
My first thoughts were for Tia ad her child.  I could see no others anywhere in the area.
With no sign of anyone else, I decided to go to the nearby temple of Chauntea, to see the priests. 
That decision didn't help.  The temple area was empty, though undamaged.  A quick search of the area made it appear as though the priests simply abandoned it.
What happened to Tia?  Where were the survivors?  I was torn, I had a duty to those we had rescued in Scornubel.  I also had a very strong need to find Tia.  Duty won.  It had to, though the question of her location would plague me for some time.
I went back to the ruins to converse with the soldiers there.  Only Logan and I approached them, the others hid some distance off, though near enough if we needed them.
A conversation with them proved that they were there merely to investigate.  We were told the in was attacked, by soldiers wearing cloaks in the colours of Baron Redhand.  This was proved out when someone discovered a Redhand Knight's sword.  Logan and I looked at each other.  Someone was trying very hard to implicate Garrus' father in something.  The whole thing smelled bad.  I didn't believe the evidence, he definitely wasn't the type.  So the question is, who was doing this and why?
We didn't dally.  We had people to take home, safely, and night was coming, so we pushed on. 
It took 2 days to get to Halfbrook, our final stop.  There were only four people left.  Two were the girls Wren rescued from the traders, and the last two were from village itself.
When we got to Halfbrook, we were greeted by the townsfolk, and an impromptu celebration was held at the Inn.  Wren decided she would blend in as a rescued person, in an attempt to discover if the return of the girls was welcome by everyone.
Logan and I got to talking about the night of the raid.  We decided to find out as much as we could about it, as a stepping stone to learning what was really going on.
As we interviewed everyone we could think of, the militia men involved in dealing with the raid, the parents of one of the girls- from the farm north of town, and staff members at the inn, we learnt many things.
The raid was clearly well planned.  The door at the back of the stables was left unlocked.  The militia were busy at the farm when the inn was hit, and Thoram's goods were a bonus and not the target.  We knew the date was consistent with the information on our map from the bandit hideout,thus indicating the date was planned in advance, and wasn't changed because of the presence of Thoram's goods.
The unlocked gate gave the bandits free access to the inn.  They had inside help.
By the time the investigation was concluded, day had turned to night.  I wrote a quick note or Wren and slipped it into her hand, asking her to look check on the inn's employees.  We narrowed it down to someone with a store room key.  The owner and the night manager.
Wren did her thing.  It was the night manager.  She did a quick search of his room and Thoram's weapons were found.
We had the night manager arrested.  Thoram was pleased to see his weapons.  The armour, however had been taken by the bandits.
A hard interview with the night manager and we got a name.  Miklaus.  He was a hunter who had a lodge a ways north of town.  A local hunter, eager to help, offered to lead us there.  So, tomorrow, we would go.