The [blogger totem]

3 Feb

totemGah, it’s time for a [blogger totem] I think.  What’s that?  It’s a writer’s trick I play on myself from time to time in order to wake Muse up from whatever coma he’s fallen into.  At the moment, Muse is out cold.  It’s probably not his fault though as I’m suffering from some serious (self induced) sleep deprivation and it’s making our brainz teh fuzzy.

See, the thing is, I’ve got this phrase running through my head – it’s a story that wants to get out – but I’m either too tired or simply too dense to let the spirit speak as it wants.

So I need your help.  I’m pulling out a [blogger totem] and I’m throwing it down hard.  When that totem pulses it should pull on the creative strings of writers and bloggers all over the place.  If the pulse is strong enough – and the other writer is in tune with the Earthmother and the seven imaculate coffee’s of Nak’tharesh – then they will read my offering and write a little of their own to move the story along.  

Together – we’ll finish the tale before the totem’s last pulse.  Here’s what we have to start with:

Tah’mahok had met Thrall once.  Just once – but it had left an impression.  

That’s it friends.  That’s what we have to work with.  The [blogger totem] will pulse 5 times.  We have that long to give Tah’mahok his voice.

Don’t let him down…


3 Responses to “The [blogger totem]”

  1. Capn John February 4, 2009 at 15:21 #

    We’re posting here, yes?
    * * *
    “I AM the War Chief.” Thrall had made this statement in the same manner someone else might say, “The sun rises in the east”.

    It was a simple statement of fact, and as Tah’mahok had looked up at the large Orc standing over him, he had absolutely no doubts in his mind that Thrall really was the War Chief.

    “All hail, Thrall!” he’d shouted, as he’d pulled himself up into a kneeling crouch before the great Orc.

    “All hail, Thrall!” his tribe had repeated, as they too followed his example and went down on one knee.

    Then Tah’mahok had stood and folded his huge right paw into an even bigger fist, which had made several of Thrall’s closest soldiers start to step forward, but the War Chief never moved a muscle as Tah’mahok slammed his fist into his own chest. A warrior’s salute, from one warrior leader to another, and as his soldiers relaxed Thrall returned the salute.

    “Thrall IS the War Chief!” Tah’mahok had shouted. “Thrall is OUR War Chief!!!”

    Cheering erupted from his own warriors as Tah’mahok spoke to Thrall, “You have the support of the Tah’mahok tribe. We will follow you into battle, and fight alongside you against the demons from the sky.”

    Yes, his one meeting with Thrall had left quite an impression, both mentally AND physically. Tah’mahok reached up and casually rubbed the small dent in the top of his skull where Thrall had struck him all those years ago. A single powerful blow had been all it took to drive Tah’mahok to his knees, end the Trial of Combat, and establish Thrall as the War Chief of Tah’mahok’s tribe.

  2. Windpaw February 5, 2009 at 12:49 #

    Great Start! The Totem has pulsed once…

    Pick up where the Cap’n has started or start your own thread! You can post here or post on your own blog and we’ll cross link everything like a bad Marvel Comic crossover!

    [bloggers totem] ::pulse::

  3. klinderas February 5, 2009 at 17:15 #

    Not that he was too bitter about it. Thrall was a powerful adversary, and Tah’mahok had not been shamed by losing to him.

    But out here, on the cold, frozen front of Northrend, Tah’mahok didn’t have to try very hard to think about when he was chief of his own tribe. The power that position held, the prestige, the legacy it left… all gone in a single moment. Tah’mahok was a powerful warrior, but he was no longer a chief.

    Sometimes he dreamed of what would have happened had he beat Thrall. He could be leading the Horde through this gods-forsaken desert of death and snow, and his name would have been remembered for eons. He could have changed the world.

    He was wrenched from his reverie by a howl he heard in the distance, followed by hisses and snarls. Tah’mahok flung off his cloak, wiped out any trace of fires, and equipped himself with his weapons and armor. They were here to find him.

    Earlier that day, he had led a raid against Azjol-Nerub that had failed. All his companions had been murdered, and Tah’mahok barely escaped with his life. He had been injured badly, and had taken refuge in a cave. He had stayed there since then in an attempt to stay hidden.

    Turns out the Scourge are better trackers than he thought. Cursed bastards.

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