Driven By Hate - A Druchii Blog

Ladies and gentlemen, druchii and goblins, ravens and orcs, you are cordially invited to peruse..



A collection of tales chronicling the exploits of Raucir Lustingclaw and the ill-favoured House Sathar.



So basically, I've been writing a lot lately, and what with the spotlight the other week and the positive and constructive feedback I've received for my posted Druchii Tales on The Grey Kabal's forum, I've decided to open up a seperate blog for the whole thing.

Obviously Raucir's tales are the focus of the collection (every aspiring writer should be considered an egomaniac), though I'll be posting the occasional Bonus Story when I have the spark to actually write something interesting. I'm also intending to Write On Demand at some later stage, once I'm more confident.

Thanks to all of House Sathar for their warm welcome, their ongoing perseverance in Warhammer Online and their help and advice on my writing.

As a final note, I'd like to point out that right now Driven By Hate is a work in progress which needs a lot of tweaking, and that I'm beginning by posting one (maybe two) excerpts a week so as to help my run up at giving this writing shit a serious shot.

Read on! \m/

Od.

"Why do we fall, Master Bruce?"

I have come to a painful conclusion.

Tonight I’m going to shave off my beard.

I know, I know, simmer down. It’s the source of my power, of this I am well aware. But I’m also aware of how the ladies, apart from Adam’s missus (lucky bastard), don’t like a beard on a man. I’ll probably go clean-shaven and let it grow in for Reading, so hopefully I’ll have some respectable stubble for the festival.

That is, assuming I can go. I can’t get an overdraft on my current bank account (YES I KNOW THEY’RE RUBBISH I’m looking into getting a Lloyds account..) and I’ve really been pushing the limits of borrowing money from my relatives. I’m just grateful they haven’t broken my legs yet. This leaves my friends, who are equally, if not more so, strapped for cash, though they have come through for me many times in the past, the way friends do.

So it’s looking pretty grim, isn’t it? I’ll be giving my bank a call today, though God-Emperor only knows why, their accents are all so thick you can virtually hear the sacred elephants lowing in the background (that’s a pop at banks for outsourcing btw, not a racist comment). With any luck they’ll jump at the chance to try and skin more money out of me. If not, I’ll just have to find another way to make some extremely fast cash.

Anyone need someone killed? I’m cheap! Just £250 per head! Extra £50 if you want it giftwrapped, mind you.

Classy like.

Love, Odsox.

NB: Just thought I’d tell you quickly about a dream I had the other night.

I was at the bar in Valentino’s with some of my mates - Justin, Adam, Gem, my usual crowd - chatting idly (mainly nonsense words on their part) while waiting for a round of double JD & Cokes. Suddenly I feel this wrenching pain in my teeth, all around my mouth and I can actually FEEL them breaking against each other, growing out and snapping off. It’s not the first time I’ve had this happen in a dream, so I thought with a few minutes I could deal with the pain. Suddenly I spit teeth across the bar (no blood mind you, which is a bit weird), cough, feel AWFUL, like the world’s about to end, and start vomiting teeth. Not in little retching bursts, the way I normally throw up, but huge gouts of teeth, jetting out of my mouth and erupting from my throat. I can feel my stomach convulsing and emptying, and every single sharp edge and surface scrapes the inside of my throat like thousands of tiny bone-knives. After collapsing into a shuddering heap, the pain vanishes, and I wake up.

Bit of a strange dream, that one.

Anyway, TTFN!