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Here Comes the Storm: Karagon's Awakening

Gardeena is a quiet, yet mystical place, built upon the fertile fields of Lampuria, forged by its ancient people between the eastern oaks of the Manglarian Forest, and the cliffs of Margar. It's location has provided both privacy and sustenance for it's inhabitants for generations, which in turn, has allowed for the cultivation of many of it's rich traditions, most notably the mastery of the elements and culinary arts. At the heart of town lies a garden that is both immense and diverse in it's offerings, many of which can be found on the menu of Stormhelm, the town's best and only tavern, and a hidden gem of the realm for those who's paths have brought them to it's door. The lush fields which encompass most of the town, provide throes of golden wheat for the tavern's famous, Earth and Fire Ale, a nod to the Storm bringers, a modest in number, yet powerful clan of elemental masters who reside and train upon the abundant grounds of Gardeena. Most of the townsfolk are born into a life of farming and fishing, but those who bear the mark of the storm, and are able to complete the trials of Margar, may pursue the vocation and life of a Stormbringer.

Karagon, the most powerful, but least battle tested of the remaining storm-bringers serves as a beacon of hope not only for Gardeena, his home, but for all future storm bringers both born and yet to be. His mastery of the elements, which vastly outshines his willingness to take on an apprentice or to teach younger generations, is a mark on his otherwise sterling character. Eleven years ago, a battle waged just outside the towns reaches between storm bringers and giant, giants whose dwindled resources led them to covet the vast resources that Gardeena possesses. The battle, ultimately won by the storm bringers, resulted in heavy losses, including 5 out of the 8 living elementalists. Karagon, Thorum "the wolf," and the eldest, Shorgut, were the only ones to walk away, albeit with scars, both physical and mental, from the clash better known as "Margar's Stand." Thorum, often referred to as the wolf, left after the encounter with the giants, and has not returned to his homeland, although stories of his feats in distant lands have made it's way into townsfolk mouths at Stormhelm's tables. Shorgut, who first saw Karagon's promise, took him on as his apprentice many moons ago, and is now, weathered and worn by the life he has lived and unable to command the elements required to teach. Mastering the elements brings with it, great power, but its toll on the body is immense, along with its responsibility to answer the call of the great order when needed, which often puts those who answer in certain peril. Shorgut spends most of his retirement urging Karagon to pass along his knowledge and valuable experience but is oft turned away or ignored all together. It is following another one of Shorgut's pleas, that Karagon would be put to the test and nothing would be the same again.

There is a pass along the base of Margar's Cliff, which cuts through the outer edges of Manglarian Forest, and leads to a river basin, a prime destination for fishing and meditation. Karagon, with rod and bait in hand, casts out his line and set down on the banks of the river to meditate and hone his craft, as he waited patiently for a Lampurian bass to latch. Fishing for a storm-bringer is a bit trivial, as Karagon could certainly use his control of water, his preferred element, to wash an unsuspecting bass upon the shore, however, he views the act of fishing as an opportunity to test and grow one's patience and to connect more deeply with the natural order of things. As Karagon laid back onto the soft embankment, the once radiant sun was suddenly blotted out by something far less warming, the silhouette of Alagon, the Gargantuan. Just as Karagon's eyes had adjusted to the sudden change in light, and a good thing to, the cracked, and leathery sole of Alagon's right foot came crashing down upon him. Pressing his hand to the ground, he used a swift gust of wind to sweep his body down the embankment and into the cool waters just below, narrowly escaping certain death. Without hesitation, Alagon let out a thunderous growl, and advanced quickly towards Karagon. Having a moment to finally assess his circumstances, he funneled a vast amount of the river basis's crystal-clear water into a cylindered stream that crashed into Alagon's chest, knocking the ill-tempered behemoth back, and momentarily stunning him. During "Margar's Stand," the last time he encountered a giant, his youth and inexperience had almost cost him his life. Now, facing the largest and most feral of the giants, Karagon knew that anything short of his best, would not be good enough on this day.

Having let his guard down after landing a definitively powerful strike to the giant, he failed to notice that Alagon had uprooted a nearby tree while getting to his feet and hurled it in his direction. He quickly lifted the earthy soils of the embankment just a few yards in front of him, slowing but not stopping the oak's flight. He was now trapped, under the weight of both the trunk and shallow waters of the basin, a dire predicament to say the least. The giant once again stood over him, smiling down upon Karagon, content with watching him grasp for air. Karagon thought about what Shorgut had told him before left the village, and in that moment, his body caught fire, instantly evaporating the water around him, causing a rush of steam to engulf Alagon, and blind him. Alagon let out a scream, that was soaked in pain, and deafening, then turned and retreated towards the forest's edge. Karagon, safely on dry land at this point in time, did not give chase, but watched as the Gargantuan creature hastily fled into the woods he came from. Thoughts of chasing the wounded beast, quickly faded, as Karagon wisely acknowledged that it was best he let his body recover, as the encounter with the giant, had taken a toll on him. Fishing would have to wait to another day, dinner at Stormhelm with a story to tell seemed like a safer proposition.

The End

I hope you enjoyed the story. Remember to prioritize your needs and make time to pursue that which makes you happy and fulfilled. Please check out my From WOLF to ALPHA process, and other short stories on my website.

Written by Man with a Plan aka Jeffrey Kalinoski

Source: Here Comes the Storm: Karagon's Awakening

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srrybabe · 4 years ago

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Holy shit you are gorgeous. I mean, you are so cute if we ever met and you asked me something random like directions to a pub, i would just stare and be lost for words because you are so beautiful. And then you would think I am really stupid, when actually my brain just stops when it sees a pretty face.

ok wow thank u so much anon this made me feel so much better about myself because i hate 90% of selfies i take. this is literally one of the sweetest messages ive ever gotten i am saving this somehow. thank you so much have a wonderful day💖💖💖💖

#save #fav #ask me stuff #anon

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spartanguard · 8 years ago

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i love you (and i like you)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @ive-always-been-a-pirate!!! I hope you have an absolutely fantastic, amazing day, because you are one of the sweetest peeps out there and deserve it. Here’s a quick little Parks & Rec AU to celebrate!! (because the only thing possibly more perfect than CS is Ben & Leslie) HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY!

Nothing infuriated Emma Swan more than Killian Jones.

She hated him the minute he waltzed into her department, announcing that Storybrooke was basically bankrupt and that he and his friend were there to make sure that didn’t happen. Which, in hindsight, sounds like a good thing, but not when doing so meant slashing half of the parks department’s budget. As Director of said department, how could she be okay with that?

“It’s not just us, Emma, it’s everyone,” her deputy, David, reminded her.

She groaned in response.

“Would you rather the city went broke?”

“Yes.”

She hated that sinful British accent of his, and the way his dark hair sometimes fell in his blue eyes, and how that scruff-covered jaw was just begging for someone to run a thumb across it. Those were the things she noticed when he took her out for a drink in an attempt to assuage her regarding the coming changes.

And that he was annoyingly charming, and funny, and flirtatious, and unfortunately, he too wanted to do the most good for the most people.

“Why is it you went into parks, Swan? Someone as fierce as you seems more fit for politics.”

She snorted, then shrugged. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Running for office. I’d love to. But then I had my son, and I really wanted to make sure that he always had a safe place to play and have adventures. So this was kind of logical.”

He took a sip of his rum, swallowed, then looked up at her. “No, that’s not all, is it?”

“Beg your pardon?”

(This was when she learned she hated how well he could read her.)

Those too-blue eyes bored into hers. “You’re trying to give him something you never had, aren’t you?”

Her gaze narrowed; how could he know that?

“You’re something of an open book, love,” he said, apparently reading her mind. “You’ve got that look in your eyes—the one you get when you’ve been left alone.”

Damn, he was good. She didn’t tell many people about her life before Henry and then this guy just figures it out on his own. To her own surprise, she found herself filling in the blanks to this relative stranger. Reluctantly nodding, she explained, “I was a foster kid, and for a long time, I didn’t really have a place that was mine. But no matter where I went, there was always a park, and I could always find some quiet space there, even as a troubled teenager. So at some point, I got it into my head that that was what I wanted to do: make sure that there were always clean, nice parks for everyone to enjoy—and yes, most of all my son.”

His stare softened at her admission, and something seemed to shift between them ever so slightly. Then he smirked and replied, “Guess we have a few things in common.”

“What, were you a troubled teenager, too?”

“You could say that.”

She scoffed. No way this straight-laced, albeit somewhat lascivious, stud was anything but a goody-two-shoes in high school or primary school or whatever they call it in England. “I find that hard to believe.”

He looked down to study the wood of the bar. “Have you ever heard of Captain Jones, Teenage Pirate?”

Her jaw dropped. Of course she had—how could she not? Right around the time of her own rebellious teenage years, she’d heard the story of a kid not much older than her who’d taken to the high seas of England, terrorizing any ship he could, though doing not much more than being an annoyance to the Navy and convincing some wealthy minor royals to part ways with some jewels. She remembered the one picture she’d seen: a scrawny young man, wind whipping his long dark hair and reddening his babyish face. But his eyes…

“Holy shit, that was you?”

He was blushing—the nerd was actually blushing. “At your service.”

She couldn’t reconcile those two images in her head. “Just…how? How do you go from that to…this?” she demanded, gesturing to him.

“I was protesting what I thought was an unjust action by the Royal Navy that put my brother in unnecessary danger. He survived, but he’s my only family and I was just angry enough at the world to go rogue. When they finally caught me, I went to jail for a short while but then was released to him, and he made me realize just how foolish I’d been. So I straightened up, went to university, and eventually found myself over here, working to right wrongs in government as a way to atone for my youthful follies in a more productive manner.”

She was speechless. Yeah, it was an incredible tale, but, damn…they really did have something in common.

She hated the way he seemed to have no remorse in shutting down the government, despite their conversation—despite all that he and Robin had seen in Storybrooke. She hated that she had started to let another guy in only for him to betray her again.

“These are people’s jobs, Killian! Their livelihoods! And not just them—this is going to affect all of Storybrooke!”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m trying to save the town, Emma. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.”

“And what am I supposed to tell all these people who were looking forward to that concert?”

“It’s a concert, Swan; there will be others. You think these people can’t handle it?”

“Here? No.”

They glared at each other for another moment, tensions high, and while most of her was raging, a small but significant part of her just wanted to kiss him.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” he asked, voice low.

Damn him. Of course there was, and of course he knew it. She could give him some drivel about how Henry was looking forward to it, or that it was a tradition, but those would be lies. It just…stung.

“No, there isn’t.” She turned away. “Call me when you’ve figured this shit out.”

She absolutely hated that, when she had found a way to nearly save the community concert, it was Killian that actually did, by rehiring the band out of his own pocket. She hated it so much she cried happy tears in the privacy of her own car (which freaked out Henry a bit, so he hugged her tight).

And she really hated it when she overheard the conversation between he and Robin about staying in Storybrooke, even after fixing the budget. Worse yet, they’d be working with her in city hall, both in the city manager’s office.

How awful it had been to see him every day, especially once she got the idea to revive the Miner’s Festival, and Killian was totally on board. He helped her every step of the way, even when she was delirious with the flu and drunk off her ass.

“You really think we can pull this off?” she wondered aloud, hopelessness seeping in after a sponsor pulled out.

“I do, Swan,” he assured her, completely sincerely. “I’ve yet to see you fail.”

She kind of hated that he was right, though she was mostly relieved. Everything had gone off without a hitch; everyone was having fun; and Mayor Mills had managed to find the town’s mascot dog, Wilby, before he’d ran off too far. It was pretty much perfect.

“Told you. I knew you could do it, Swan. You’re a bloody hero.”

She blushed, uncomfortable with the praise. “So are you. I wanted to thank you, Killian, for all your help—for staying in Storybrooke in the first place. We couldn’t have done it without all your help.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

There was something that had been bugging her the more they had worked together—and gotten closer—over the past few months. “I’ve gotta ask: why did you?”

“Why did I what?”

“Stay. You told me about how you’ve been all over the place, never staying in one town for long. But you’re here, in this crazy little town. Why?”

He took a step closer, somewhat nervous. “Don’t you know, Emma?” She tilted her head, confused. “It’s you.”

She prayed Henry was nowhere nearby, because after so many close encounters, awkward hugs, and exchanged wanting glances over the past few months, she was tired of holding back. She didn’t even care about Robin’s no-dating rule that she’d been using to justify not acting on her growing feelings. She just stepped right into his space, grabbed the lapels of that silly leather jacket he was always wearing, and hauled his lips to hers. He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, pulling her tight, and she quickly got lost in their kiss.

She hated how perfectly they fit together, how easy it was to have him in her life. She hated how well he got along with Henry. She hated how sweet and caring he was, always supporting her fully and so in tune with what she needed. She really hated sneaking around, but there was a certain thrill in having to hide their relationship work.

That is, until David caught them. And until someone approached Emma with running for a position on City Council. And Killian was just too damn perceptive for his own good.

So what she really hated was how he put her dreams and wants above his.

They sat down at the table and she took a deep breath, building up courage for the conversation she’d been avoiding for weeks.

“I know I’ve been really weird lately. I…like you a lot, even though that contradicts what I’m about to say—”

“I know,” he cut her off, understanding as ever, and sliding toward her the small box he’d been trying to force on her all day, ever since lunch at Granny’s. “Open the box.”

“Killian, would you stop it with the box?” she complained, exasperated that he was trying to give her a gift when she was trying her damnedest to keep it together despite what was coming.

“Okay, then, I’ll open the box.” He calmly tugged the box back, flipped the lid, and put it back in front of her. And she was speechless.

Inside was an oversized campaign badge. In white text on a red background was written SWAN 2017.

“Wow,” she breathed. “You knew.”

“Aye,” he nodded, looking down. “I know I should have told you sooner, but…I wanted this to last as long as possible.” He looked up at her through his lashes. “We have to break up, love.”

Knowing it and hearing it were two different things; a stone dropped in her stomach. “Why? Why do we have to break up?”

“Emma, you’ve worked so hard for this—you’ve earned this. And I don’t want anyone to think you’ve gotten here by sleeping with your boss, as devilishly handsome as he may be.”

“But I like sleeping with my boss.”

He teasingly offered every bad breakup line in the book— “It’s not you; it’s me”; “you disgust me”—but it didn’t reach his eyes and she could always spot a lie.

She really, really hated seeing him with another girl on his arm.

It had been six weeks since their reluctant breakup and while things were progressing in her campaign—and she was getting ever closer to achieving one of her dreams—she wasn’t sure if the success was worth the aching loneliness she felt every night, lying alone in her bed. Henry, bless his little heart, had tried to cheer her up, and she appreciated it, but it only partly filled the void.

She still saw Killian every day, which was probably the worst part—being close to him but not being able to be with him was a whole different kind of torture. She’d been through her share of heartbreak, but this was on a whole other level.

And then he started to pull away from her, and she had no idea why. She’d even selfishly tried to drag out a low-level parks project—installing the smallest park in Maine in the center of town—because it was the last one they’d do together.

But it went through faster than she thought, and here they were, celebrating their victory with a little shindig at David’s house. And there he was, with that pixie-like blonde journalist at his side.

“Oh, so just because I can’t go out with him, someone else can?” she complained to Mary Margaret, David’s wife and her best friend.

“Yes,” was the matter-of-fact response. “That’s actually the first time I’ve seen him smile in a while.”

No, that—that was the worst of all.

“Really?” Emma asked voice small.

“Really,” she answered in a knowing voice. And Mary Margaret would know—Killian had been renting their spare bedroom ever since he decided to stay in town.

If Killian had been just as torn up over their break as her, and it took this new woman for him to move on, then no wonder he was pulling away.

She hated that the most.

She couldn’t stay there any longer. Quickly, she made sure Henry was okay to stay there for a bit and headed out, walking around their small town to clear her head, or her heart, or something.

It shouldn’t have been any surprise that she ended up at their tiny park. It was just a lamppost and a bench with a few flower pots, but it was their brainchild and it was perfect. She took a seat on the bench and stared into the night.

“Thought I might find you here.” She jumped at Killian’s voice, turning toward it as he stepped into the light.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tink?” she threw back, more bitter than she’d intended.

“Maybe.” His tone was non-committal but he sat down next to her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes—not an awkward one, but they both seemed to want to say something. So she did.

“Why are you here?” His only reaction was to turn to look at her, so she continued. “If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I understand.”

“Believe me, Swan—I don’t want that,” he was quick to reply, to her relief. “I just…” he trailed off, scratching nervously behind his ear. “I think it’s for the best,” he concluded sadly.

She sighed; he was probably right. “Okay.” His face fell a bit, but he nodded and stood, and started to walk away.

And in that moment, she was reminded of everyone else who had walked away: foster parents, Henry’s father, a string of exes who never seemed to want her for her. But Killian—he never had done that. Even dumping her was putting her first. She couldn’t let that go.

“Or we just say ‘screw it’,” she called after him. “And do this for real.”

He stopped and turned back to look at her. “What?”

“Everyone I’ve been with has left me, except you. I can’t lose you, too, Killian. And I miss you like crazy, so let’s do this.”

His head was down as he stepped back toward her, making it hard to read his expression. “We’d have to tell Robin.”

“Yeah.”

“It could cause a scandal.”

“I know.”

“It could hurt your campaign.”

“I know, but I know how I feel, and I want to be with you.” She swallowed; she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d been more nervous or when so much had hung on one question. “That’s how I feel. How do you feel?”

He looked up and a smile was teasing at the corner of his mouth and eyes; the weight that had been sitting within her since they’d first broken up started to lift.

And then he was in front of her in two strides, hands cupping her face and his mouth on hers. Their first kiss had been one of pent-up passion, but this? This was like coming home. And she kind of never wanted to leave.

They were making out for what felt like ages, but let Granny, or Tink, or this town’s crazy raccoons watch. When they finally broke apart, she only had one thought.

“I love you and I like you.”

“I love you and I like you, too, Swan.”

thanks to @shipsxahoy for looking this over! Tagging a few others who might like this: @kat2609 @mryddinwilt @thesschesthair @fergus80 @optomisticgirl @captainswanismyendgame @fairytalesandtimetravel @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @disastergirl @laschatzi @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones

#cs ff #cs ff au #ouat x parks #happy birthday #ive always been a pirate #my ff

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honorpmoved · 8 years ago

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SITS ON UR LAP ok like we havent interacted on my mei at All but im too lazy to log out so lets pretend im on infrad rn. ANYWAY LIKE I LOVE???? UR REINHARDT SO MUCH you're absolutely phenomenal ??? you have a beautiful grasp on his character + real life experiences you can apply to him that really breathe life into him and make him Realistic which is so important. your writing is so so good im so shook...... its descriptive without being excessive & it flows so nicely which is something i [1/4]

admire as someone who has an assload of trouble with writing flow. your graphics always look so so nice & i havent gotten the chance to compliment you on your current theme but i creamed when i looked at it. its aesthetic af while still being legible & easily accessible which is like ??? what else could you Want. the fact that you approached me FIRST way back on my amelie had me shocked because ever since i planted my ass in this fandom ive been like 👀👀👀 @ u. it seriously boosted my confidence with amelie because my first shot at her went pretty badly so bless u honestly wtf ….. and this is all just with your portrayal okay lets talk about how fuckin fun you are to talk to ??? you just came up and started to talk to me which is so refreshing because it feels so awkward when its Formal. you’re so so sweet like wtf i have to fight you every time you try and compliment my booty ass self. i always stop to read any threads or just dumb asks in general because its either gonna be Incredible or hilarious because dude …. my guy …. you’re so funnny …. what the fuck … ur just so welcoming and nice and funny and talented pls if i go on ill hit ask limit so THIS IS WHAT I GOTS FOR U

reblog if you want anonymous opinions of you. // @frstd

im callin the fuckin police on your sweet ass holy shit,,, honestly im speechless and i have the dumbest fuckin smile on my face rn YOU ARE THE SWEETEST MAN LIKE. shit i had followed a lot of widows and ever since ive always been sorta seekin out a good one, cuz that amelie rein dynamic is a guten i want them t be pals in the beginning and when i saw your blog I just remember like. thinking you were super cool and just throwing caution to the wind like w.e im gonna talk to them and they’re gonna hate me or they’re gonna like me i wanted to be your friend so i was like im either doing it or failing and that’s my answer AND LOOK AT US NOW a bunch of fuckin spoons who snort about our muses doin stupid shit it’s the mcfuckin best

man every account you have is always so masterfully done i can’t imagine you having a bad start on amelie ; w; i love your mei, your gerard - you put so much work into all of them, and you write them so beautifully like HONESTLY you’re your own biggest critic cuz i would never see an issue with writing flow in your jam. your characterization for amelie esp ( since im most familiar with her ) is like so?? i see widows put a heavy focus into widowmaker herself, and while i find that important, neglecting her roots can sometimes be a bit detrimental to a character when obviously SO MUCH OF HER LIFE was spent as something else and you have breathed a lot of life into that side, like the 90% of the character that blizzard doesn’t give us. you have her personality and characterization so down pat i fuckin laugh everytime or i make a stupid face in shock when you write some of her reactions cuz im a loser and get so hype for good writing LIKE I’LL JUST :0 !!!!! BRUH WHEN YOU WRITE HER REACTING TO SOMETHING REIN DOES i hope that makes sense just

ily bab

#long post for ts.#[ you send me 4 asks ill DESTROY YOU WITH PARAGRAPHS RIGHT BACK ]#frstd #♚ —— there is still more to my tale ! ‘ answ.#♚ —— commander in chief. ‘ ooc.

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