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Sunday, November 13, 2011

To Touch Reality


I stumbled across something this morning that served as a powerful reminder of just how much of an impact the stories that we create can have on the lives of the people who enjoy them.

It was a conversation on Reddit regarding movies and the personal changes they had brought to people's lives.  Many users told very heartfelt tales about how each story taught them something very valuable about themselves, their lives, or the world.

The post can be found here:  "What movie has personally changed something about you, be it your way of thinking or the way you do something, and how?"

The notion that a movie or a book can change a person's life is often considered to be a bit silly and perhaps over-dramatic.  I mean, if I told someone that a movie like Iron Man taught me the importance of taking responsibility for my mistakes, most people would laugh and say something along the lines of, "It's just a movie."

But for many, it seems, movies, books, and even video games have a lasting effect on how they view life.  And I think it's very important for people like writers and filmmakers to remember the power they wield, and more importantly, to respect that power.  You never know what people are going to take away from your work, but hopefully, it will be something positive and uplifting. 

For example, I once worked with a woman who told me that her son's hero was Goku, the main character from the anime series Dragon Ball Z.  For those of you who may be unfamiliar with Goku, he was the epitome of good.  He stood up for what was right, protected the innocent, and never hesitated to put himself in harms way to help someone in need.  And I remember thinking, "If Goku can still be a hero for kids, then maybe I can also create a hero for people to look up to."

These days, the antihero rules.  But I am a firm supporter of the good old-fashioned hero of chivalry. Honor, nobility, and all that. The anti-hero rubs me the wrong way. No "good guy" should use questionable tactics to win. It undermines the spirit of conflict, in my opinion.  I mean, how do you choose who to cheer for if both characters are using the same underhanded tactics to achieve their goals?

So that's the message I put out there.  I try to present a protagonist who is a good role model.  Someone that people can look up to.  To draw inspiration from.  Some may just see it as another character in another book, but others might see a person who possesses qualities they lack.  Or maybe they might be able to empathize with the character's journey, or growth, and find hope in the hero's victory.

Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not trying to say that everyone should share my view of what a story should or should not be.  But we need to be aware of the message we're sending.  People, whether it be readers of a book, players of a game, or viewers of a movie, often take away much more from our works than we sometimes realize.  And we should remember that.  Our words, our themes, our characters, and our stories can find their way into reality through the ideals and lessons learned by our audiences.

After all, with great power comes great responsibility.

God bless,
Kevin

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Building Blocks Released!!

Greetings,

I must first apologize for not having updated in a while.  Building Blocks was nearing completion and I wanted to spend as much free time as I could with cover creation and editing.  A special thanks goes to Crimsanity Creations for the awesome cover shot.  The whole image holds several symbolic meanings for me personally as well as Herbert, the protagonist of Building Blocks.  Readers can check out more art from Crimsanity Creations over at deviantArt.com!

Also, because it is a Christian book, I wanted to take the time necessary to make sure that everything I wrote matched up with Biblical teachings as I certainly don't want to lead anyone in the wrong direction.

But it's done now, and Building Blocks is available for your reading pleasure on Amazon.com, Smashwords.com, and Feedbooks.com!  Please note that this book is meant to be free for everyone, but Amazon.com's minimum list price is $0.99.  So I highly encourage you to download the book for free from Smashwords.com or Feedbooks.com!  Links are listed below.

I am aware that a Christian novel will not be everyone's cup of tea.  That's OK - I didn't write this with expectations of literary market domination.  But the most common question I get asked when people find out I'm a Born Again Christian is, "If God exists, why does he allow bad things to happen to innocent people?"  There's no easy answer for that question, but the short answer is this:  Anyone who thinks that God is a magic genie who will grant our every wish is mistaken.  God allows bad things to happen because doing otherwise would mean controlling us in one way or another.  Controlling our decisions, controlling our actions, controlling our voices, our feet, our hands, or our thoughts.  If God were to step in and stop a man from killing his neighbor, He'd be forced to momentarily take away the free will that He gave to humanity in the first place.

Obviously there's far more to it than just that, but that's what Building Blocks is about.  It's about a young man named Herbert who has thus far struggled through a miserable life and can't help but wonder why a just and loving God would let so many terrible things happen to him.

I'm offering this book for free forever because I didn't write this book for money or book sales.  I wrote it because I wanted to try to provide a better understanding of who God is and why He does the things he does.  I hope to be able to get Amazon.com to drop the price down to $0.00 once the book becomes available on Barnesandnoble.com (they have a price-match policy).  But until then, my best suggestion is to simply download the book in your preferred ereader format from Smashwords.com.  And as always, please please please leave a review!

As for me, I am going to take some time off from writing.  Building Blocks was a new experience for me; it took me out of my comfort zone of fantasy fiction and third-person storytelling and challenged my writing abilities to grow in a different direction--a direction I had not before explored.  I don't regret it for a moment; I'm glad to have had the opportunity to try something new.  But as a result, I find myself a bit burned out.   So I'm going to take the rest of the year to relax and recharge.

God bless,
Kevin

Building Blocks on Smashwords
Building Blocks on Feedbooks

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Ten Years Later

I have mixed feelings about today's "observance" of the ten year anniversary of the terrorist attacks on America that have come to be known simply as 9/11.  I remember the day vividly; it was like watching a movie unfold on TV with the most realistic special effects I'd ever seen.  We weren't too far from New York.  We could see the smoke on the horizon.

It was a scary time.  The years that followed were even more so.  We went to war against an opponent we couldn't see.  They weren't confined to any one location.  Even worse, our country decided to label it the "War on Terror."  Knowing our nation's almost arrogant proclamation that it never loses wars and that our military was/is the best in the world, it was frightening to think that our government wasn't going to stop until terrorism itself was eradicated.  Not because we didn't WANT it that way, but because terrorists will always rise up from one place or another.  You can't catch ALL of them any more than you can catch ALL criminals across the world.  So, faced with an objective that could never be reached and a military that doesn't stop until the job is done, I couldn't help but feel that we were going to be stuck at war forever. 

And that's just what Osama Bin Laden was looking for.

Ten years later, and we're still at war.  Bin Laden is dead, but the events of 9/11 have already had their effects.  Telephones wiretapped without permission, surveillance cameras in public places, intrusive and violating searches/pat-downs at airports, and much much more have become a part of life for every citizen of this nation.  Loyal or disloyal, peaceful or violent, loving or unloving - they're all the same to good ol' Uncle Sam.  And it's all in the desperate struggle to make sure another 9/11 doesn't happen. 

Bin Laden may be gone, but his mission of seeing America destroyed is still a work in progress.  9/11 set in motion a chain of events that continues to reverberate throughout our nation's very way of life.  Government officials call the changes "necessary."  Some of our citizens agree, sadly.  But for a large number of us, seeing our freedoms taken away one by one has been a bitter pill to swallow.  Not because we have anything to hide, but because the fall of ANY of our freedoms opens the way for the loss of more. 

An episode of Star Trek, called "The Drumhead Trial" addressed this very well.

"The road from legitimate suspicion to rampant paranoia is very much shorter than we think.  Something is very wrong here, Mr. Worf.  I do not like what we've become."

"You know, there are some words I've known since I was a school boy.  With the first link, a chain is forged.  The first speech censured,  the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied chains us all irrevocably ... The first time any man's freedom is trodden on, we're all damaged."

"You think we've come so far.  The torture of heretics, the burning of witches, all ancient history.  Then, before you can blink an eye, suddenly it threatens to start all over again."

"Villains who twirl their mustaches are easy to spot.  Those who clothe themselves in good deeds are well camouflaged."

That sums up my feelings about America these days.

Then there is another viewpoint that was recently brought to my attention.  Be warned; I found this offensive at first.  Until I read the reasoning.

Someone posted this online:  "What's the difference between a cow and 9/11?  After 10 years, you stop milking the cow."

As someone close to 9/11 when it happened, that kind of bothered me at first.  But then I looked into the logic behind it.

We lost a total of 2,977 victims on 9/11.  Yes, that is tragic and sad.  You know what else is sad?  The 4500 or so American troops lost during the wars that followed.  And according to a recent study by Brown University, at least 132,000 civilians have died from both the Afghanistan and Iraq wars - and that's a conservative number, they claim. 

The Vietnam War claimed nearly 40,000 American troops.  Civilian deaths numbered in the millions.

The Gulf War claimed approximately 150 troops.  Yet over 103,000 civilians died during attacks. 

What about the world wars?  What about the innocents that died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki when the atomic bombs were dropped? 

Why do we mourn the deaths of 3,000 civilians and ignore so many others?  When comparing the numbers, our losses almost seem tame. 

Then there are natural disasters which are seemingly forgotten.  Does anyone even think about Japan anymore?  Between 20,000 to 30,000 lost there.  The government of Haiti puts the death toll from the 2010 quake at 316,000.  How about the 2004 earthquake in the Indian ocean that sent a tsunami across several countries that saw 185,000 dead and 1.69 million displaces from their homes?

The point is that absolutely tragic things happen across this world, yet we sit here ten years later still licking our wounds from 3,000 dead.  Are we really that self-centered that the 3,000 people in the twin towers deserve to be remembered every day while the hundreds of thousands of innocent lives taken by war are forgotten?  Are those 3,000 people really that much more important than those killed by natural disasters that were NO ONE'S fault?

Yes, 9/11 was sad.  But I can't help but feel just a little self-centered worrying about it when there are millions others who've suffered tragic losses as well  How are the cleanup efforts proceeding from the Alabama tornadoes?  Joplin, Missouri?  When was the last time you heard anything about Japan's recovery?  Are the families of the civilians lost in the Iraq/Afghanistan war seeing any sort of aid?

I want to propose a change.  I don't think 9/11 should just be about the World Trade Center.  I don't think it should just be about the Pentagon or Flight 93.  I think 9/11 should be a day of mourning for all the innocents.  Whether it be war or natural disaster or disease or whatever, 9/11 should be a day of remembrance.  The images of the twin towers plastered with the slogan "We Will Never Forget" seem to have prevented us from healing over something that, outside of the "safety" of America's walls, happens every day in random countries around the world.  So, instead of refusing to forget our own pain, perhaps we should try to remember the pain of others.

It's time we realize that the world doesn't revolve around us.

With that, I'd like to extend my condolences and prayers for anyone stricken by tragedy, anyone struggling through loss, anyone suffering from devastation.  Whether it's a lost loved one from 9/11 or a child that died of pneumonia, if you're hurting, my heart goes out to you.  I pray that God lifts up your soul and comforts your sadness.  You're not alone in your struggle.  Not ever. 

Never forget that.

God bless,
Kevin

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Character Development: How Anakin Skywalker Killed Darth Vader


I've had a number of other authors and blogs approach me about writing "guest blogs" for their sites. The idea is for me to offer my advice on the different aspects of writing from my own experience. The problem I have with this is that I don't see myself as any form of authority on such subjects. I can't tell people what to write or how to write it because I'm no expert myself.

So I've been trying to figure out what kind of advice I could offer. After all, I may not be an expert, but I have been writing for a lot of years. Surely there's got to be something I learned along the way that could help others.

Then Spike TV ran their usual Star Wars marathon over the weekend.

Let me first and foremost say that I am a Star Wars fan. I'd stop myself short of calling myself a Star Wars nerd/geek because I can't speak the alien languages, have read very few Star Wars books, and I don't own nor do I plan to own a lightsaber. Unless it was real. And cheap. And turned everything it touched into candy. As long as it's not licorice. Or apple. Strawberry is good. Orange, too.

Where was I?

Oh, right.

I do enjoy the Star Wars movies. The original three (ahem - the originals, not the special editions) still rank among my favorite movies of all time. And while there were a number of issues that kept the prequels from being nearly as good (Yoda should have remained a puppet, and his lightsaber duel, while entertaining, did not fit with his character), I still found them to be overall enjoyable movies.

Still, there is something that I, along with many other Star Wars fans, cannot look past.

Anakin Skywalker.

Which brings me to the purpose of this post: Character development. I'm going to explore the characters of both Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader in an attempt to illustrate what can both make and break a good character in the eyes of the audience.

Think back to the first time you saw A New Hope. The doors slide open, and in walked Darth Vader. Clad in black, shrouded by a flowing cape, and his ominous breathing left you wondering just what exactly could've been behind that mask. And as the movie wore on, we were shown a ruthless dictator. He was a being that would choke the life out of someone who simply disagreed, a figure that didn't hesitate to slay his former master at his first chance, and a heartless murderer who sat back and watched while his beloved Death Star blew Alderaan outta the sky. Or stars. Whatever.

Then came The Empire Strikes Back. We find that Vader is obsessed with finding young Luke Skywalker. One would presume that he sought to exact vengeance upon the man responsible for the destruction of the Death Star. But we soon learn that Vader is interested in turning the boy to the Dark Side of the Force. That idea is even more chilling. For Vader, killing Skywalker would be nice, but it would be far more satisfying to turn the Rebellion's newest hotshot pilot against them.

But then we find out the truth. Luke is Vader's son. So it is a man in there, after all. And he's a man with at least some measure of compassion, because he'd rather have his son standing by his side than as another corpse on the battlefield. Luke, of course, refuses before making his dramatic escape. And although you can't see his face, you can tell that Vader is disappointed. Not angry, but disappointed. Seems the man in black might have a heart after all.

Return of the Jedi saw the culmination of Vader's continuing quest to find his son and convert him to the Dark Side of the Force. By the time they meet face to face once again, Vader almost seems unhappy to have to take Luke to the Emperor. He knows, as the audience does, that Luke Skywalker will die if he does not turn to the Dark Side. Yet at the same time, he can't deny his own feelings of compassion that he has for his son. Even when Luke accuses him of having good within, Darth Vader doesn't deny it. He simply turns the conversation in a different direction. He's a conflicted man, dedicated to his duty and loyal to both the Emperor and the Galactic Empire. But inside, there is a part of him that can't argue with his son. He knows Luke to be right.

And of course, in the end, we see Vader's repentance. After seeing the truth with his own eyes, perhaps even inspired by Luke's refusal to take his father's place beside the Emperor, Vader finally does the right thing by sending the wailing old Sith falling to a bitter end within the Death Star's reactor. Or wherever those giant pits all over the Death Star lead to. Seriously, those space stations were riddled with design flaws.

So there it was. Darth Vader, ruthless murdering Lord of the Sith still knew right from wrong. And in the end, even he was capable of repentance. It was a powerful story and a great message.

Then George Lucas decided to go back to the beginning and tell the stories of how Anakin became Vader in the first place. This, he said, was his plan from the beginning. After all, the first Star Wars movie was Episode IV.

And this, ultimately, would tarnish the name, image, and character of Darth Vader, who up until that point had arguably been one of the greatest villains of all time.

In Episode I, we were introduced to the wide-eyed youth named Anakin Skywalker. Cheesy dialogue between he and Padme aside, little Anakin was portrayed as the shining example of innocence, a light in the darkness. And while that's fine considering he was just a boy, the seeds of Darth Vader needed to be sown from the very beginning. Given the cold-blooded nature of the man in the black mask, one would've expected that at least a hint of those tendencies should've shown in little Anakin Skywalker. More specifically, a dose of anger could've gone a long way.

Vader's most defining trait was his anger. His temper got away from him so frequently that he nearly choked a man to death just for disagreeing with him over the power of the Death Star. When one of his admirals made a slight tactical blunder, Vader choked him out too. Anger was his weakness. That was made very clear throughout the entire original trilogy.

Why, then, was little Anakin's "weakness" portrayed as fear over losing his mother? Fear!? Darth Vader knew nothing of fear! It didn't fit with his character at all.

And when Episode II rolled around, the Anakin we were treated to amounted to little more than a cocky teenager. What's worse, his main character conflict became his love for Padme despite the fact that Jedi aren't supposed to have emotional attachments. In order for any of this to make sense, Vader would've at least had to have referenced a lost love at once or twice for the audience to make the connection. But Vader never even hinted at anything having to do with Luke's mother. Vader's motive was always to ensure the lasting dominance of the Empire and to see the will of the Emperor carried out no matter what the cost. His actions, attitude, and ruthlessness came from his deep determination to maintain order in the universe by whatever means necessary. In order for Vader's evolution to have made any sense, Anakin would've needed to share that passion for those ideals.

Granted, there were a few moments when it seemed like Lucas might take the story in that direction. Anakin's conversation with Padme in the meadow, for example, addressed his feelings about democracy. He felt that "someone wise" should make the leaders of the various worlds across the universe agree on political policies. Had that subject been explored a bit more, it would've had far greater effect in connecting the Anakin Skywalker of the new movies with the Darth Vader of the old. It wouldn't have to get overly political; a single scene where Anakin witnesses the bickering of the Senate could've done the trick. Something to further establish his feelings that the Senators could get far more accomplished if they didn't spend every session arguing.

In the meantime, Anakin's slaughter of the sandpeople finally showed us a taste of the anger that drove Darth Vader. The scene that followed with Padme, however, undermined the whole thing. I mean, the dialogue was great as Anakin proclaimed that he'd slaughtered them all, even the women and the children. But as a young man who was beginning to succumb to his anger and hatred, it would've been far more beneficial had he not been tearfully remorseful about it. That took away from the direction Lucas was trying to take Anakin's character. Had he been proud of himself - maybe by brushing off any objections from Padme - it would've foreshadowed the eventual birth of Vader brilliantly.

I will say that Episode III did a better job of depicting the development of Anakin's political ideology than Episodes I and II. With the Jedis' lack of trust in him combined with being denied membership of the council, it was only natural that he would begin to wonder why they were excluding him from their plans. At the same time, a growing need to remove Chancellor Palpatine from power led to the idea of the Jedi taking over the Senate to ensure a smooth transition. With Palpatine in Anakin's ear planting the seeds of dissension and Mace Windu's attempt to kill the chancellor (to which Anakin proclaims, "It's not the Jedi way!"), it made far more sense for him to turn his back on the Jedi and become the Emperor's apprentice. To him, the Jedi had turned their backs on their own ideals. From his eyes, it really did seem as though they were plotting to take over the republic as Palpatine had said.

If Lucas had rolled with that story alone and connected it with with my earlier suggestions regarding Anakin's polical ideals, his purpose and mission would've been far clearer and certainly more believable. But the focus was still on Anakin's relationship with Padme. His main concern was still all about saving her life. For a man on the verge of turning his back on the Jedi, ready to slay them all - adults and children alike - along with anyone else who stood in the way of the Chancellor, the idea that he could still be obsessed with saving Padme seemed unrealistic. His number one focus had become the protection of the newly-formed Galactic Empire. The Dark Side had consumed him through his anger, and morality had apparently slipped away. A more realistic approach would've been for him to blow Padme off entirely. "He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, the good man who was your father was destroyed." The Darth Vader of Episode IV wouldn't have cared if Padme was bawling her eyes out. He would've shoved her aside and gone on his way.

No, he would've used the Force to choke her to death before going on his way.

Had that happened, followed by a tense scene in which doctors rush to save the babies, it would've established the Darth Vader we all grew up with. It would've solidified Vader as one of the most memorable villains of all time (although I don't think anything can really change that anyway, I just feel that the Anakin Skywalker we were treated to tainted the legacy of Darth Vader).

Plus, we never would've been subjected to this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWaLxFIVX1s
Then again, without that scene, we never would've gotten this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjPmjwszr2w
But I digress.

Character development can be one of the more difficult aspects of writing. But I think what I've illustrated here is that the character's actions and experiences must directly relate to what he or she will ultimately become. I mean, think about your own life. We are all products of our upbringing in one way or another. Each memory, each experience, each lesson learned, each battle lost, each struggle overcome, they all come together to form the people we are today one way or another. Characters must be same the way. It's how we identify with them.

And if you can't identify with the characters of your stories in one way or another, why are you writing about them?

Just my opinion.

God bless,
Kevin

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Final Fantasy VI Prologue

This is a novelized version of the introductory scenes of the video game Final Fantasy VI. I found myself wondering what the story would be like if it were in book form. So I took the opening scene and wrote it out.

I did it all over a weekend, so it's probably got lots of errors and stuff. Doesn't matter, that was never the point. I just wanted to add another dimension to the story. I think I succeeded :)

Oh, and for you purists - yes, I did change some things. For example, "We'll approach from the south" was originally "We'll approach from the east." But when you play the game, the only way in and out of Narshe (and the way the soldiers used) is from the south.


Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------

Long ago, the War of the Magi reduced the world to a scorched wasteland, and magic simply ceased to exist.

One thousand years have passed. Iron, gunpowder and steam engines have been rediscovered, and high technology reigns. But there are those who would enslave the world by reviving the dreaded destructive power known as "magic."

Can it be that those in power are on the verge of repeating a senseless and deadly mistake?

--------------

It started, as so many tales have, on a cold night. Snow rarely fell south of the mountains, but in Narshe, it was always winter. The cliff sides faced away from the sun's daily arc, far above the desert lands of Figaro. The constant chill served as a ward against those who might otherwise perceive Narshe to be a cozy community for retirement or raising children. People didn't come to Narshe to live. They came to work.

And work was abundant. Many recent industrial advances had come from Narshe. For a time, it seemed as though every able-bodied man was uprooting his family and marching north. Miners, in particular, were plentiful. Narshe's mines dove deep into the mountains and had provided an abundance of resources to feed the technological boom. The network of tunnels expanded every day, providing work for just about any man strong enough to swing a pickax. And with so many of them working side by side every day, it was only a matter of time before they unearthed something far more precious than any stone or jewel.

It was a discovery that immediately caught the attention of Emperor Gestahl himself.

Cold wind rushed through the valley just south of Narshe's entrance. It was the kind of cold that made faces raw and bones numb. The mountains usually kept the stronger gusts from reaching the worn path, but this wind was persistent. And it was gaining in strength. Snow fell, lightly at first before gaining in both strength and density. Soft thunder rolled between the clouds.

A storm was coming.

On a precipice just south of Narshe where the path split to form a small plateau, Vicks and Wedge took a moment to survey the area. They'd thus far seen nothing unusual during their journey, but the nature of their mission led Vicks to believe that would soon change. His dark eyes scanned the snow-covered path ahead before coming to rest on the glowing lights of Narshe on the distant mountainside. "There's the town," he said softly, gripping the control sticks of his Magitek armor.

Wedge moved beside him, the mechanical feet of his Magitek unit stomping heavy holes in the snow. "Hard to believe an Esper's been found there one thousand years after the War of the Magi."

Another set of iron feet shifted behind Vicks. He didn't want to acknowledge the presence of their third member, but he knew that sooner or later, he would have no choice. She was assigned to accompany them for a purpose, he knew. But that was all he knew. A new recruit? A spy? Were his loyalties to the Empire in question? Or was the woman really just a puppet as Kefka had claimed? Whatever the truth, the rumors about her . . . abilities . . . didn't sit well with Vicks. The less interaction he had with her, he thought, the better. Then again, perhaps ignoring her would give her the chance to catch him off-guard.

He shook his head and wiped the snow from his helmet's brim. Best not to continue with that train of thought. "Think it's still alive?" he asked, returning his attention to Narshe.

Wedge shrugged. "Probably, judging from the urgency of our orders."

But the more Vicks tried not to think about her, the more he could feel her eyes at his back, burning a hole through his skull. He had avoided the subject during the entire journey from Vector, but now that they faced their objective, the woman's purpose was likely to become clear sooner rather than later. If, by chance, Wedge knew anything about her . . . Well, it couldn't hurt to ask.

Rotating the two steel control sticks, Vicks brought his Magitek armor around to face their pale-skinned companion. "And this woman, this . . . sorceress . . . What's she doing here? I heard she fried fifty of our Magitek armored soldiers in under three minutes."

Wedge grinned, stomping big prints in the snow as he lumbered over to her side. "Not to worry," he said, pointing to the twisted metal bands circling her head. Another thing that made Vicks shudder. "The slave crown on her head robs her of conscious thought. She'll follow orders."

That wasn't an answer, Vicks noticed. If Wedge knew anything of her identity or purpose, he didn't seem eager to share. Instead, he headed past both of them and down toward the main path to Narshe. "We'll approach from the south. Move out!"

A long trail of mist streamed from Vicks' nostrils as he sighed. Regardless of his concerns, he wasn't about to disobey an order from his superior. The only thing he could do was follow and pray that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Had they traveled from the capital on foot, they'd surely have made camp on that hill. Not even the biggest fool in Vector would attempt to travel through that dark valley during a snowstorm. With visibility dramatically reduced by both the darkness and the snow, predators could be upon the party before their pistols had left their holsters. A soldier knee-deep in snow couldn't move with any amount of agility, and hidden boulders and dips in the path buried well below the snowdrifts could break ankles or even swallow an unsuspecting soldier.

But with the Magitek armor to carry them, such concerns were, quite literally, beneath them. The Empire's mechanized bi-pedal armor units were hailed as one of the best inventions to come out of the research facility in years. Armed with the latest in Magitek weaponry and plated with heavy iron for added protection, the mechs had a tremendous impact on both the role and the effectiveness of the traditional soldier. A single man could calm a riot, crush a blockade, or level and entire battalion. In addition, the units were able to carry a soldier across great distances faster and safer than ever before possible. For a man, walking along that snowy road to Narshe would've been a brutal and exhausting experience. But the mechs plowed through the snow with ease while onboard scanning units watched for predators and other dangers that might pose a threat.

"Still, even with all this technology, they still couldn't build a canopy to protect us from the elements," Vicks muttered, brushing snow from his mech's control console. "Unbelievable."

Wedge, who had taken point, looked back at him. "Why, are you cold?"

Despite the weather, Vicks was actually quite comfortable. The heavy brown uniforms they wore were well-insulated. "No," he answered, shaking his head. As he did, his eyes came to rest on the woman. She marched along beside them in silence, her eyes fixed forward as though she could already see the Esper ahead. Unlike them, she only wore a simple dress of pink that ended just above her knees. Vicks almost shivered as the wind blew through her long blond ponytail. "I bet she is, though."

Wedge looked back at her before shrugging. "Not our problem. You heard what Sir Kefka said. She'll do her job whether she's comfortable or not."

It didn't quite seem right to Vicks, but he was a mere soldier. He didn't know everything about His Excellency's plans or what kind of crimes this girl might have committed. Perhaps it was her punishment for what she'd done to the other Magitek soldiers . . . if the rumors were true.

The snow was already slowing when they reached the base of the hills where Narshe was located. By the time they arrived in town, it had stopped completely. Vicks couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. While the leaders of Narshe had yet to formally sever ties with the Empire, they had made their dissent known on numerous occasions. Emperor Gestahl's methods were not popular here, and it was likely that the people would be displeased with the idea of three Magitek soldiers entering their city to take possession of their latest archeological find. But the Empire was Narshe's biggest financial backer; an estimated eighty percent of minerals gathered from the mines were purchased by the scientists at the Magitek Research Facility. In short, if Narshe wanted to prevent the collapse of their economy, they'd have to hand over the Esper.

At the towering archway that served as Narshe's entrance, Wedge came to a stop. Vicks and the woman followed suit. "Let's put her on point," Wedge said, positioning his mech behind hers. "No sense in taking any risks. Forward!"

Without question, the woman took the lead, and Vicks and Wedge followed her into the town. The first thing Vicks noticed was the lack of activity. True, it was a good deal past dusk, but there wasn't a soul to be found on the paths, and no light shone from any window.

As if to answer his thoughts, Wedge spoke. "Lookouts must have seen our approach and told the people to take shelter."

"Fine by me," Vicks responded as they marched northward. "I had expected we'd have to argue with local security forces over this whole thing. The easier they make this for us, the better it will be for everyone involved."

In his travels around the world, Vicks had never had occasion to stop in Narshe. It was a primitive little down despite its flourishing economy. He had expected large mansions and cobblestone streets, but the brick-and-mortar homes were no more impressive than anything that could be found in South Figaro. Oil lanterns on tall iron poles lined the paths that twisted around each building, and large staircases of wood led to structures built into the higher elevations. Some of the town's layout seemed a bit haphazard, but there was little doubt that the aesthetics had been sacrificed due to the formation of the mountainside. Odd hills and cliffs and valleys had apparently forced some creative choices for construction. Though some homes were level with the ground, there were others that were build almost entirely on wooden scaffolds to compensate for uneven land. Then there were structures that seemed to be built right into the cliffsides with only a single staircase erected to provide access. How or why they managed to construct such a thing was beyond Vicks imagination.

Wedge's voice pulled Vicks away from his thoughts. "Narshe's mines are located at the northernmost part of the town. If we keep heading-"

He was interrupted as a pair of soldiers dressed in old blue robes stepped onto the path about ten paces ahead of them. They were lanky men carrying primitive weapons. No match for the mechs, but Vicks clung to hope that they might be willing to negotiate.

His hopes were dashed in an instant. "Imperial Magitek armor?" one of the soldiers yelled, hoisting his sword. "Not even Narshe is safe anymore!"

Their charge was ended just as quickly as it had begun. A deafening crackle pierced the air as a scorching beam of fiery light shot forth from the chest cannon of the woman's Magitek unit. The blast sent their bodies sailing through the air. One man came down hard on the rooftop of a house, his body rolling and sliding downward before falling to a smoldering heap on the ground below. His partner crashed down beside him, smoke rising from his charred remains. Neither man so much as twitched.

"Serves 'em right," Wedge said with a grin.

Vicks shook his head. "Let's keep moving."

The trio marched past the fallen men and continued northward. Despite the fact that he was an imperial soldier, Vicks didn't like violence. He'd joined the military to help people and preserve peace. But lately, he'd found himself questioning his purpose. Much of that had to do with the Empire's apparent motives. More and more, the word "magic" had been making the rounds amongst the troops, and Vicks didn't like it. The stories of the ancient War of the Magi should've served as warning to anyone who might decide to purse such power. If that was the Emperor's goal . . .

No, it couldn't be. His Excellency was far too wise for that. Perhaps he learned of others who sought the power and mobilized the Empire to intervene. There was another faction opposed to the Empire, an organization calling themselves the Returners, who seemed to be trying to start an uprising. Perhaps they planned to use magic to do it. That must be it. Emperor Gestahl was just trying to protect the people from the Returners, and to do so he needed to secure Narshe's Esper before the Returners could get their hands on it. That made sense.

It didn't explain the technology that powered Magitek armor, though. But there had to be a reasonable explanation for it all. The Empire was not evil. It couldn't be.

Another Narshe patrol stepped onto the path ahead. "Narshe's freedom depends on us!"

This time the woman fired before the men had even managed to take a step. A bright beam of blue shot from her mech this time, immobilizing the guards in a thick shell of ice. She pressed a few buttons on her console, and her mech raised his steel arm. Latched atop its forearm were a pair of foot-long missiles. With a pop-hiss, one ignited and flew toward the frozen men. The collision sounded like the shattering of fifty panes of glass. The remains of the men showered down upon the buildings and pathways ahead, leaving the way forward clear. Vicks couldn't even try to imagine how that must've felt.

The path shifted upward ahead, narrowing through a ravine past several more homes and into the hills. As they marched through, Wedge's ears seemed to perk. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Vicks stopped and listened carefully. For a moment, there was nothing but the stillness of the night. Then he heard it; something that sounded like numerous feet scampering through the snow behind them. He and Wedge turned their mechs around to prepare for whatever might be headed their way.

"We've got 'em trapped, now!" a voice yelled from behind. Vicks looked back to see two more men racing toward them from the north. As he faced his console to bring his mech about, two dogs burst around the corner to the south, snarling and barking as they bounded toward the imperial soldiers.

"We'll take the dogs," Wedge shouted. "She'll handle the guards."

The last thing Vicks wanted to do was kill a couple of dogs, but they seemed to be ready to rip his throat out given the opportunity. As they galloped closer, Vicks angled his Magitek mech directly toward the one on the right. Wedge aimed for the other to the left. Simultaneously, they pushed the triggers of their left control sticks, unleashing powerful bolts of electricity into their targets. The dogs squealed and tumbled backward before resting motionless in the snow. Vicks looked back just in time to see the two guards meet a similar fate.

"C'mon," Wedge said, turning northward once again. "We need to keep moving."

They continued along at a slow but steady pace, following the ravine up a steep incline toward Narshe's northern border. A short distance beyond the final house, Vicks could see four figures standing with weapons drawn. "They won't even give us a chance to speak," he grumbled. "If they'd just talk to us, maybe we could avoid bloodshed."

"What are you worried about?" Wedge asked, almost laughing. "They can't touch us. We're Magitek soldiers!"

Vicks shook his head as snow crunched under his mech's feet. "I'm not worried about us. I'm worried about them. I don't want to have to kill people if it isn't necessary."

"But their actions make it necessary," Wedge told him. "That's not our fault. Don't blame yourself."

Vicks raised an eyebrow. "What would you think if Magitek soldiers marched into your town?"

"I'd think they must have had good reason," Wedge said flatly. "I would never question orders from His Highness."

Again, Vicks sighed and shook his head. "I suppose."

The four soldiers stood at the top of the rise, waving and shaking their weapons menacingly as though they really thought they stood a chance against the imperial troops. Vicks wanted to call to them, to offer amnesty, to beg cooperation, but he couldn't undermine Wedge's command like that. Instead, he kept his mouth closed, and eventually, he heard the rallying cry he'd hoped to avoid.

"We must defend the mines!" The guards screamed, rushing down with weapons waving above their heads. They were dispatched by a few quick blasts from the Magitek cannons.

"Fools," Vicks growled. "If they'd stayed in hiding, they'd yet live."

Wedge nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly. They chose to oppose us, and therefore chose their fate."

It wasn't quite what Vicks had meant, but it was clear that he and Wedge were of separate opinions on the matter. "Let's just get the Esper and get out of here."

Just beyond the top of the hill, the three came to one of several mine entrances. This particular opening had piles of fresh wood and tools lying on the ground beside it, suggesting that it had only been recently constructed.

Wedge must've noticed it, too. "According to our source, the frozen Esper was found in a new mine shaft. Maybe this one?" He guided his Magitek armor inside without waiting for a response. Vicks and the woman followed close behind.

The tunnel itself was relatively short. Oil lamps lined the walls, providing the only source of light in the dim shaft. Half-finished train tracks ran along the center of the dirt floor, leading right up to the far wall where they disappeared under a pile of rocks and dirt. Vicks' first thought was that there had been a cave-in, but upon closer inspection, he began to think otherwise. A cave in would've left more structural damage, and debris would be littered about the floor. This looked more light a neatly organized pile of rocks and boulders purposely designed to block the path. Only one way to find out...

"I'll handle this," Vicks said, positioning his Magitek armor as close to the pile of debris as he could manage. He tapped a few buttons on his console and pulled back on the right control stick. The mech raised its heavy arm and pulled back, mechanical fingers clenched. Vicks pushed the stick forward, and the Magitek unit mimicked the action, thrusting its fist forward with immense force. The punch blew a gaping hole in the rubble and sent rocks and debris scattering across the floor. Again, Vicks wound up and delivered a stiff blow, shattering through the largest boulder in the center of the pile. Over and over, he pounded his way through the wall of rock until there was a wide opening through which the mechs could pass.

"I would've just blasted through," Wedge said, crossing his arms.

"I didn't want to risk damaging whatever is on the other side," Vicks responded. "Unless you'd like to be the one to tell Emperor Gestahl that you incinerated the Esper."

"Nonsense," Wedge said, pointing toward the silent woman. "I'd blame her. That's what she's here for."

Vicks rolled his eyes and headed through the opening. What he saw on the other side nearly took his breath away.

It was a wide open cavern unlike the typical mine shaft. The train tracks stopped midway into the room. Just beyond that, a single guard beside what looked like an oversized snail's shell. But that wasn't what had caught his attention. Against the far wall, standing nearly twice again as tall as Vicks himself, was a giant block of ice. And inside, a giant creature resembling some kind of bird with green and red feathers lay dormant, encased in its frozen prison for over a millennium.

They had found the Esper.

"By the Goddesses!" Wedge exclaimed as he entered behind Vicks. "Look at the size of it! We'll never be able to get that thing back to Vector ourselves!"

"You won't have to worry about that!" the guard shouted, patting the giant shell. It was nearly the size of the Magitek unit. "We won't hand over the Esper! Whelk! Get them!"

A low growl came from the shell, a resonating vibration that shook Vicks to the core. From the opening near the floor slithered a giant snail, its neck oozing with an unidentifiable slime. Teeth like giant needles lined its oversized mouth, and its beady eyes twisted about, presumably surveying the room for food. As soon as it saw the guard standing beside it, the head shot forward, mouth open further than Vicks would've thought physically possible. It came down over the soldier's head with a crunch, silencing his screams as it lifted his body into the air. The beast ate like a snake, swallowing the little man in two more bites.

"OK, try to stay out of its reach," Wedge said while it struggled to get the guard down its gullet. "Its head may be fast, but it's still a snail. Its maneuverability is its weakness. We'll-"

But Vicks already knew what to do. "Hold it. Think back to our briefing."

Wedge was obviously getting impatient. "What about it?!"

"Do you remember hearing about a monster that eats energy . . . "

Wedge's eyes widened. " . . . and stores it in its shell!"

"Right," Vicks nodded. "So whatever you do, don't attack the shell!"

Whelk growled angrily, its beady eyes shifting between the two of them. Vicks and Wedge moved to either corner of the room while the sorceress woman stood between them.

"Ready?" Wedge called out. "Fire!!"

Vicks unleashed a powerful blast of fiery light, hitting the monster right between the eyes. At the same time, Wedge let loose a blast of ice energy which formed a frozen patch on the left side of the beast's head. Their female companion followed that with a missile that exploded into Whelk's neck, leaving charred burns across its disgusting pink flesh. The creature let out a piercing roar as it writhed in pain.

"Again! We can't let up!" Vicks shouted, firing again. But this time, Whelk withdrew into its shell, and the fiery blast crashed into the pink shell.

"No!" Wedge yelled, but it was too late. A thick band of electricity rolled across the shell before it shot toward Vicks, throwing him from his mech. His body slammed into the wall before crashing to the floor.

Everything hurt. A dull ache rolled through his arms, his legs felt like jelly, and his chest smoldered where the blast had found its mark. As he struggled onto all fours, he was startled to see the their female companion standing over him. She didn't say a word. She just clasped her hands together and lowered her head. White light surrounded her body and raised up, seemingly hovering above her before coming down on Vicks like a soothing blanket. Within seconds, the pain left him, his wounds closed, and strength flowed anew. It was like something out of a storybook, something he wouldn't have believed if it hadn't happened to him. The rumors about her had to be true. That was magic!

From the other side of the room, Wedge was screaming. "Can I get a little help over here!?"

The monster was back out of his shell and angrier than ever. Vicks jumped to his feet and climbed back into this mech while the woman returned to hers. Wedge was backed into the corner with Whelk's teeth snapping just inches from his face.

"Hold on!" Vicks called, shifting his mech into position. With a silent prayer, he fired a crimson blast into the side of the creature's long neck. The beam cut through flesh with ease, severing Whelk's head from the rest of its body. It hit the ground with a disgusting splat.

And then it was over.

"Took you long enough!" Wedge grumbled, stomping over the remains of the creature's head.

"Did you see what she did?" Vicks asked him. "She healed me! She used magic!"

"That's not surprising," Wedge responded. "She does-" He cut himself off. "Hey, what's she doing?"

The woman was standing in front of the Esper in silence. She stared at the ancient creature intently, eyes as wide and glistening.

Vicks and Wedge shifted to either side of her. "Hey, what's the matter?" Wedge asked her. "Do you know something we don't?"

Of course, she didn't respond. Vicks looked back at the Esper. The ice glistened in the flickering light of the lanterns. Somehow, though he couldn't explain quite why, he got the feeling that it was studying them just as much as they were studying it.

Without warning, a blinding light filled the cabin, accompanied by a horrific scream from Wedge. When his vision cleared, Vicks was surprised to see Wedge in a crumpled heap on the far side of the room, his mech blown to pieces around him. "Wedge! Are you-"

Another blinding flash of light, and this time Vicks felt like every bone in his body had been shattered to pieces. He sailed from his mech as it exploded beneath him, sending mangled iron and gears across the room like shrapnel. The pain that radiated through him when he hit the ground was indescribable.

When he looked up, everything was blurred. Vainly, he tried to crawl to his feet, only to find his body unwilling to respond. The world spun, glowed, faded. He could see the woman, rising from her Magitek armor, surrounded by a brilliant blue light. The light formed repeated arcs between her and the Esper as consciousness began to slip away. Did Gestahl know this would happen? Did Kefka? What was it all for?

Darkness swallowed everything.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

St. Louis Tornado - 4/22/11

We just got back from checking out the devastation left in the wake of the F4 tornado that touched down minutes from our apartment last night. I'm sure many of you have seen the images on TV - but after witnessing it firsthand, I can tell you that television doesn't do it justice.

It's one thing to see smashed homes and fallen trees on television. There's still a bit of psychological separation from the situation because so much television programming is larger than life. We see it, but we don't completely comprehend the weight of it. We feel bad, then we flip the channel over to Seinfeld or Family Guy and move on with our night.

Driving through it brings the weight of it crashing home. Hard.

Just to be clear, Laura and I are safe. So are her parents. Our apartment and their home were spared. Laura's uncle wasn't so lucky. His roof and front door were torn off, windows blown out, and his puppy was killed when the fridge fell on it.

St. Charles Rock Road, the highway were we do most of our usual shopping, was hit hard. The tornado must have run alongside it for quite a distance before cutting through the town of Bridgeton. Alongside the big name places like Home Depot and iHop, there are a lot of smaller mom-and-pop independently own businesses lining the highway. We pass them daily - sometimes more than once. So when we saw buildings crumbled, missing walls, smashed windows, mangled signs, crumpled trees, twisted power lines, and various debris littering the street, it sent my heart to the soles of my feet and put a lump in my throat the size of a melon.

There's a pub called The Penalty Box that was mangled. A mom-and-pop glass repair shop that was pretty much leveled. A mechanics shop decimated. A brown building - I don't even remember what it was - was half-collapsed, the inside exposed like an open autopsy. And everywhere, people stood in helpless awe, staring at the broken pieces of their lives.

Further down, the trail of destruction moved onto highway 70. I described the scene to my mother like this: Imagine a long highway with trees lining either side. Now imagine that a dinosaur marches up and down each side and chomps off the top halves of each tree before moving on to the next. Or, if you prefer, imagine a giant baseball player walking up and down the highway smashing the tops of every tree apart with a huge bat. Trunks shatter, branches crumble, limbs fly, leaves fall.

The aftermath is what highway 70 looks like now.

Then it was on to Bridgeton. Laura and I were trying to get to a local Italian restaurant this afternoon when detours led us into the heart of town. It was once a nice little rural area. Lots of trees on every street, quaint little one-floor homes, flags and chimes hanging from their front porches, and mailboxes of varying design at the end of every driveway. Anytown, USA, for the most part.

Now, you can barely see the pavement beneath the leaves and crushed branches. Most homes had at least one fallen tree, some in their front yard, and others right through their homes. There were people everywhere trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. On one front lawn, I saw a little old lady just standing and staring. Her house seemed to have been spared, but her neighbor wasn't so lucky. And I can tell you from my own experience that you didn't have to be affected by the damage directly to have been hurt by this storm.

Of course, there's our airport, not ten minutes from us. It suffered millions of dollars of damage. A bus was thrown on TOP of concourse C. A plane was moved from one terminal to another. Tons of windows blown, lines of seats from inside were found outside, clumps of insulation everywhere, crumpled signs - the list goes on and on.

The news is saying this is the worst St. Louis has seen since 1967. The trail stretched for miles through nine municipalities, damaging over 750 homes. It was an F4 tornado with winds up to about 160 mph.

Our sense of security has been taken away. Although this city is in "Tornado Alley," St. Louis itself rarely has real tornadoes within city limits. For the most part, they go north or south. Before tonight, a Youtube search for St. Louis tornado would've brought up little in the way of results. Some claimed there was a tornado near a local mall last year, but there was no visible tornado in the videos posted. This kind of thing just didn't happen in the city. But now that it has, I'm sure many others will feel the same spike of panic that I now feel when seeing a forecast for more thunderstorms (we're supposed to get more tonight and tomorrow).

The silver lining? No deaths and few injuries. None severe.

As a Christian, I've been surrounded by people telling me that there's no God for the majority of my life. But after driving through the devastation I saw today, the news that none were killed only confirmed my belief that God was watching over us.

And this was just one tornado. There were more elsewhere, but I believe our area suffered the most damage this time.

After seeing the destruction, first on TV and then in reality, I can't help but wonder just how much MORE devastating the Japanese tsunami was for those who experienced it in person. Things are far worse in person than they are on TV.

So pray for our city. Pray for our people. I don't care if you're not religious or don't believe in God. We need all the prayers we can get. Pray for Japan. Pray for the Japanese people. They need all the prayers they can get.

Thanks for reading. Should you be interested in helping with the relief efforts, I've provided a few links below.

God bless, Kevin

St. Louis Red Cross Relief Efforts: http://www.redcrossstl.org/2011SpringStorms.aspx

Japan Red Cross Relief Efforts (Bottom Choice): http://american.redcross.org/site/PageServer?pagename=ntld_main

By Telephone: 800-RED-CROSS