The troll clamped a huge fist around Sir Frank, and jerked him skyward. Unable to breathe, let alone scream in agony, Sir Frank struggled to sink his dagger into the monster's calloused knuckle. The troll whipped the old knight back and then drove him face first into the remains of a thick stone wall. It was as if being washed in fire and then hit by lightning. Then drowning. Panic. Darkness. Increasing pressure. Fighting to breath. It all faded into a quiet void. Then, the sensation of falling. His ghost arrived on a high piece of ground. The world below was familiar, but misty and distorted. It was night, and Daedalus gleamed with its otherworldly moonlight. Sir Frank's spirit hung there for a few peaceful moments. Then his body arrived. Body and spirit wove themselves together without any effort on Sir Frank's part. Sensation returned. He felt bruised from head to toe, and then all of his nerves sprung to life, tingling and prickling all over. Finally, cool air filled his lungs, and he was breathing again. The weight of his body returned, and Sir Frank slumped to the ground. He took deep slow breaths, staring up at the shattered moon that was his symbol. "Daedalus in his agony, indeed", thought Sir Frank, and looked to see what of his equipment had been drawn back to his spirit. He was glad to find his best dagger had stuck with him.
I love it Sir Frank. It is a perfect descriptive sequence, so well written. I was right there, well not in reality, in spirit that is
Agreed . Frank gave us permission to podcast his pieces and i just sent the link to lord baldrith ( id have copied you but dont have your address on my phone.. Need to sync to the desktop soon).
I'm going to paste the edited version here, just so there will be a record. Death by Sir Frank The ogre clamped a huge fist around Sir Frank, and jerked him skyward. Unable to breathe, let alone scream in agony, Sir Frank struggled to sink his dagger into the monster's calloused knuckle. The ogre whipped the old knight back and then drove him face first into the remains of a thick stone wall. It was as if being washed in fire and then hit by lightning. Then drowning. Panic. Darkness. Increasing pressure. Struggling to breathe. It all faded into a quiet void. He entered the perfect twilight of the spirit world. The land appeared misty and drained of color; the living things reduced to mere points of light. Sir Frank's spirit hung there for a few peaceful moments. Then came the sensation of falling as he was pulled toward a weak point in the fabric of the world. Body and spirit wove themselves together without any effort on Sir Frank's part. Sensation returned. He felt bruised from head to toe, and then all of his nerves sprang to life, tingling and prickling all over. Finally, cool air filled his lungs, and he was breathing again. He arrived on a high piece of ground. It was night, and Daedalus gleamed with its otherworldly moonlight. The weight of his body returned, and he slumped to the ground. He took deep slow breaths, staring up at the shattered moon that was his symbol. "Daedalus in his agony, indeed," he thought.
