Latest Review of “Reapers of Souls and Magic”

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Dear NFL….



First let me apologize for not posting very much about the issues that are still important to me. I have have been writing three novels and they will all be released between now and the end of Feb 2018. I’m not hawking my work, just explaining why I have not been able to post. But guess what? I will be posting EVERY DAY until the NFL shows our fallen brothers and sisters, our active duty brothers and sisters, our brothers in blue and our first responders the the respect they DESERVE!!

This may be a long rant, and frankly I have no idea what is about to come from my fingers and heart, but here goes.

The accompanying picture is a picture of my brother that was killed serving in Vietnam. He wasn’t serving there because he knew anyone living there. He wasn’t serving there because they were a nation that he enjoyed visiting. He wasn’t serving there because the citizens asked him to, directly. He wasn’t serving there because he wanted to go to war and “kill commies”.

He went because he felt and believed that this nation that we ALL benefit from, called him to and that it was his duty to do so. That need also involved my other brothers and myself. My family had four sons out of four sons serve their country, in the USMC, Army, Navy and Air Force. We didn’t do it because of need, we had other options. We didn’t do it because we felt compelled to go learn how to kill people, or help other soldiers kill people. We did it because we love the “opportunities” that we receive from this great nation. We did it because if you serve only yourself, you are serving a hollow master.

There are many things greater than ourselves; kindness, faith, charity, love, hope among them. Service to your country and the flag ENCOMPASSES these and others. Serving only yourself, serving evil ideologies such as socialism, communism, dictatorships and others, does not serve anyone. No other nation in the history of the world has done MORE to foster individualism and self reliance within OURSELVES, yet also fostering a need to serve others, than the UNITED STATES.

Too many today, and the anthem protests exhibited today prove, that too many in our society are serving the great “hollow master”, themselves. Shouting racism and denying facts, shouting Nazi without any clue as to what a true Nazi is, shouting Republican or Conservative without understanding the constitution and the rights granted, is nothing but hyperbole and self service. If you truly feel that everything in this world is fine, then you too are a fool, just as much as those that cry out racism, with no purpose other than to polarize.

It’s happening too much, and way to often in today’s world. We have the best tools available to communicate and learn, and we waste them. Never in the history of the world has anyone cried out for more ignorance, less knowledge, and less understanding, than we are today. We set up our social media to filter out that which offends us. We watch our televisions embracing only that which interests us. We are caccooning ourselves away from the rest of society, away from those with opposing opinion, away from those we deem “less” worthy to listen to because of our politics and viewpoints, and none of us are listening. SJW think they have the high ground, well, they don’t. Their life experiences typically, (not always), but typically do not support their views, only thier opinions.

Showing ingratitude, showing disrespect to our flag, showing disrepect to our President and leaders who you are not aligned with politically, shows only your own shortcoming and whom you serve.

If the SJW’s and the ANTIFAs seriously believe in their cause, if they seriously believe in their “justice”, I ask this. Are you willing to die for it? If you are, then you may find that as a prophetic hope, for those of us that understand what its like to serve, for those of us that have watched as friends, relatives and others have died, so that you may enjoy the bounties that this nation has afforded you, are also watching. And patience is waning. This is not a threat, it is OBSERVATION. If you feel that kneeling, while I’m standing and remembering my brothers as I salute that flag advances your cause, you are wrong. If you think that as I watch you play a game, and reap anywhere from the league minimum of around $200K, per game to as much as $19 million a game, while having only memories of friends and family so that you may, you would again be wrong. All your choice did was alienate me, and piss me off. If places my attention on you, not on any legitimate injustice that you are trying to point out. If you think that anyone who believes otherwise, any that have served is not experiencing these pains of loss each and every time that national anthem is played, then you are once again wrong. WE BROTHERS and SISTER who have served experience our need to keep this nations borders safe every time we see our scars, every time we see the scars suffered by our brothers, we see it every time we hear the National Anthem, we see it every time we see the Flag, and if you honestly believe that your perceived injustice will EVER trump that, then again you would be wrong. We each understand that what we fought and served for allows you to be the disrespectful pricks that I saw today. We get it, and go ahead and do it. But understand this as well, we brothers and sisters, we first responders, we who believe in this nation and its founding beliefs grow weary. Choose who you will serve, and be content in that. But do not believe for a moment that it has changed or impacted our faith and beliefs in that which we believe, because it hasn’t. You harm only yourselves and your causes with such disrespect and disdain for the flag, and the national anthem. It is only awakening a sleeping giant, a giant that you truly have no idea of what it is capable of. The NFL will quickly find out that there will be motions to separate them from public monies, to separate them from their sponsors and those that support this debacle, motions to end their avarice at the public trough and the public dollars for their stadiums that get used 16- 19 times a year that cost BILLIONS. I for one will no longer watch, suscribe, participate, purchase or involve myself in anything to do with THE NFL, THE NBA, OR THE MLB after todays comments and actions.

Good luck and God Bless.








On’risa quells a minor uprising!


Sedryk stared at Whit and the red clad warriors that surrounded him, blaming them for his dwindling line of supporters, knowing he could not walk away from them without suffering the consequences. He would have to see this through.

The mage turned to look at those others that also appeared to harbor his doubts, and was disappointed at seeing that less than a handful remained. Sedryk knew he wasn’t handsome in the least and he wore his robes and cowl to give a threatening air, he told himself. His ability to discern deeper into the real reason for the cowl escaped his own perceptions; the cowl was to hide from people, not to seek them out.

He had a pockmarked face and over sized brown eyes, along with lips that were so thin that they appeared nearly nonexistent, and colorless. Each of these features surrounded his long, sharp nose that he tried to diminish by having grown a thick moustache. Unable to draw the women he desired, or the friends that he longed for, to himself, he had learned to use his talents to give him a false sense of being able to do so. One did not become a mage if one were ignorant. His primary talent was his ability to use his skills as an orator to draw people to him. However he found that those people came in and out of his life like brief, unremembered dreams. That inability to keep lasting friends was born of his actual dislike for most people along with his lack of skill at concealing those feelings.

Sedryk turned back around to stare malevolently at the soldiers that were essentially holding him prisoner and saw that the Philanthian, and Sindkus, were making their way towards him. Onrisa was not wearing her mask of feathers and he noticed that she was rather attractive, in a wholesome sense. Not like one of those high-end tavern wenches who painted themselves and could be purchased for a night. Sedryk also noted that she moved with the graceful, deadly elegance of an ever-watchful predator. He realized that he would have to guard his words.

“You must be Sedryk.” Onrisa said plainly.

“And you must be the captain that the moot put in charge,” Sedryk replied.

“I understand that you don’t wish to defend the weak and helpless among us, from this nearing threat. Is that true?” Onrisa asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help, it’s that I didn’t escape to this island to fight mages that yank their magic from the dead and dying. I haven’t the skills to fight them Blackwings. We all know the stories.” Sedryk said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“And what if I told you that they are no different than the mages you are surrounded by? That the stories you seem to be repeating, are untrue? Would that change your mind?”

“No. I know about their magic and I’ve been a mage long enough to know what I can, and can’t do, in a fight.”

“Hmmm…so you’re pretty good in a fight, I take it. I mean, you did say that with a lot of confidence. We can always use mages who know how to fight in mass melees, whether it be close in on the ships or from the shores with the archers,” Onrisa finished enthusiastically.

Sedryk was so intent on Onrisa and her comment; he failed to notice the knowing grin that Whit was giving Aleenyi.

“I’m not fighting them,” Sedryk replied.

“But you do know how to fight, yes?”

“I do!” Sedryk said arrogantly.

Onrisa stepped near to the mage and threw her left arm around his shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

“Show me.” Onrisa said with a slight grin.

“I have to no cause to fight you! I’m simply saying that I won’t. Besides, you’re too close. You could shove that curved dagger of yours into my chest before I could do anything. If, I actually wanted to try.”

Sedryk watched as Onrisa looked down at the dagger on her hip, and pulled it from its sheath, never releasing her arm from around Sedryks shoulder. She flipped the dagger high enough so that she caught it by its tip, and handed it to Whit. She calmly turned her attention back to Sedryk.

“Oh, so it’s the knowing that you would lose that is preventing you. I see. So, given that logic, I can assume that you are admitting defeat against the Blackwing Mages, before they even arrive? Yes?” Onrisa said, tightening her arm around his shoulder, just a bit as she called him a coward in a roundabout way.

“That’s not at all what I said.” Sedryk said, his anger rising as Onrisa insulted him.

“So how much room would you need to cast one of your spells at me?” Onrisa asked him as she dropped her arm from his shoulder and took two steps in front of him and turned to stare at him.

Sedryk watched as his support fell back, anticipating the coming violence. He had heard the stories about her, but he had thought them over exaggerated stories at best, outright falsehoods at worst.

“This much room?” Onrisa asked him.

“You are still too close with that sword, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Your talents as a mage must be lacking somewhat then.” Onrisa replied as she removed her baldric, and tossed it, along with her sword, to Whit.

Sedryk saw her take several more steps away from him, her hands lifted out away from her hips, her palms held towards him.

“How about now? Could you defeat me from here? After all, the mages you profess to fear are much further away from you than I.”

“I don’t fear them, and yes, I can perform several spells that could kill you where you stand.”

“Let’s see one.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sedryk asked, incredulous.

“Show me one.”

“I don’t wish to harm you, and then have your man here kill me. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, that’s a matter for a much later discussion, but I will do this to ease your concern,” On’risa said looking to Whit, “I’m ordering you, now and for all coming days to not kill this man, unless I explicitly order you to, at some point in the future. This is a matter of honor! Will that do, mage?” Onrisa said.

Whit grinned broadly and only said, “As you order, Captain!”

Unsure of her intentions, Sedryk asked, “Are you challenging me to a duel?”

“If I must…absolutely. Your magic, against my wits.”

“I can kill you. You do realize that?”

“Isn’t that kind of the goal of a duel? To see who is correct?”

“I am going to kill you, bitch.” Sedryk said angrily, tiring of her condescending ridicule.

“Finally! Have I given you enough room, should I take another few steps back?”

Having had enough of her taunts, Sedryk raised his hands and began waving and moving them about, while twisting his fingers in abnormal movements, to cast a fire spell at her. He felt the magic beginning to well up within him as he drew upon the elements. He was forming the image of the spell within his mind and had just begun to utter the words that went along with the hand and finger gestures necessary to create the spell that he desired. As he extended his palms towards the woman, he felt a deep, searing pain in the palm of his right hand. He had never felt pain when casting spells before. Had he done something wrong he wondered, while in the throes of his casting? It was then that his magic broke apart, returning to the ether from which he had gathered it, unable to complete his spell.

Surprised, he continued looking at Onrisa and saw a long, thin, pointed piece of steel protruding through his hand, towards his face. The pain from his wound suddenly overtook him and he began to gasp, as he realized that it would be weeks before he was able to cast another spell! His hand was too wounded to be able to perform the intricate finger manipulations that magic required. She had interupted his ability to finish his spell with a simple, thin dart made of steel!

“You cunt!” Sedryk screamed in anger, and sudden pain.

Onrisa calmly walked over to him, reached out and grabbed his wounded hand at his wrist. As she ripped her sleeve dart from out of his palm, a spray of crimson slashed onto his blue tobes. On’risa held  it up in front of his eyes to see. 

“I can lose fingers and still hold a dagger. I can lose one of my hands and still hold a sword. I can lose both sword and dagger while still finding a way to defeat those that wish me harm, as I have just shown you. It is a lesson you will learn before the empress gets here!”

Sedryk heard her words, but was not listening to them, as he reached down and began choking the wrist of his wounded hand, after he ripped it from her loose grip. He was trying to stem the avalanche of blood and pain that was rushing up his arm.

Onrisa struck the mage across the bridge of his nose with heel of her hand, striking him sharply.

Sedryk heard her shout at him, “Pay attention mage!” and he immediately looked at her through his now watering, pain-filled eyes.

“If you won’t help, or should you choose to disobey my commanders instructions again, I will cut off so many of your fingers that you will barely have enough to hold your cock while you piss. You won’t ever cast another spell! You will end up living your miserable life with a regret so grand that only now can you begin to imagine it!” Onrisa said angrily.

Sedryk quickly looked around and saw the few other mages were scurrying away quickly; their backs to him as they separated themselves from the repercussions that they imagined would apply to themselves. He painfully returned his attention to his assailant and saw that Onrisa had walked over to stand in front of Whit,  her back to him. He also saw that her fancy soldiers had their hands on the hilts of their swords, and that the old man with the feathered hat had a smile on his face, seemingly enjoying his pain.

“Do as your told mage,” was the last thing he heard from Onrisa as she re-hung her baldric on her hips, took her dagger from Whit, and walked away calmly.

Opening of “Reapers of Souls and Magic”



“There is no greater recipient for faith and love than the Elfaheen, for it was their will that brought you into this realm, and it is they who may yet save you.”

(A.Mu., 2.5 – Book of Air, Tenets of Muriel, Chapter 2, Verse 5)


Daena looked over Tetra’s shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her friend’s waist as the two plummeted through the sky. A quiet exclamation of fear escaped her lips while Tetra laughed aloud. It was a beautiful day.

Tetra leaned down even further along the long neck of her friend, Rhastrashaa. Even above the roar of the fast-blowing wind, Tetra could hear the air whistling as it passed over the scales on his massive form. The faster they fell, the higher its pitch rose. The deep black color of his scales contrasted sharply with the bright, cloudless blue sky he dove through, ensuring that all who may have been looking upward would see him.

Neither Tetra nor Daena had dressed appropriately for such an excursion, their gossamer gowns and untied hair whipping about them wildly as the dragon continued diving toward the earth below. Rhastrashaa had offered to show them something they had never seen before. He seldom offered anything, much less the chance to ride upon him. They had leapt at the opportunity.

“Make him slow down!” Daena shouted over the noise of the wind.

“I can’t make him do anything!” Tetra laughed. “He’s doing what he loves!”

“He loves falling?” Daena screamed in fear.

“No! Terrifying others!” she yelled. Her response caused her to grin, knowing that it was a bit too true.

Tetra nudged Rhastrashaa’s neck with her knee. The ancient black dragon slowed and began arching his body to level out his flight. Never having seen their homeland from a bird’s-eye perspective, the view was nothing short of breathtaking for the women.

“What did you intend to show us, Rha? Or was this just a way for you to scare us?” Tetra asked lyrically.

“Only a few more moments and you’ll see it,” he answered with a sly, baritone voice.

The dragon turned toward Larimoor Falls and paused, floating stationary on the breeze. Both women gasped at the view of the falls’ deep blue waters as they crashed downward more than a league to the bottom of the valley gorge. The rising mists blocked most of the view into the deep ravine, looking like an eruption of water from within rather than the water’s landing spot.

The lush trees that lined the gorge also filled the adjacent forests and were filled with budding blossoms in various hues of blues, yellows, and greens. The higher peaks of the White Range were covered in snow and ice, towering more than three leagues up into the sky. Tetra watched as the waters rushed out of the narrow chute of stone at the north end of the gorge, creating the Rimoor River. From the base of the mountain, the Rimoor flowed down the mountains and into the sea.

“Pay attention. Here it comes.”

“This is boring. What are we looking at?” Daena asked.

“Hush. He wouldn’t have brought us here if he didn’t have a reason,” Tetra said.

Then it happened, and even Daena was filled with wonder and awe.

“It’s beautiful!” Tetra whispered unconsciously.

As the sun dropped over the peaks of the White Range, the icy white ridges became shaded in reds and oranges. The colors became more vibrant as the sun passed lower toward the falls, when they began turning golden. Waters that looked to be flowing molten gold soon replaced the blue ones. For a few brief moments, even the mists rising from the gorge became emblazoned with the colors of fire and gold.


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