FindishTiger aka NathanB420's blog: "My random writings and other stuff"

(Open with music)
My mission will leave you wishin for more
cause I’m goin to kick this beat to the floor,
an if you think I’m only ramblin, ya’ll can take a hike,
cause my flow is smooth it’s like riding a bike.
And my rhymes are a gamble, an throwin the dice,
yeah my words are a thief, an I’m makin a hist.
An if you want to step to me know, I won’t think twice.
(Musical Interlude)
Cause this lyrical quest is a contest of jest,
that comes from to much stress,
even when your doin your best an life’s still a mess,
but if you don’t like what I got to say,
just go away or put me to the test.
But if you swing ya fist an get me pissed,
you better not miss, cause I’m hot to trout,
an one shots all you got,
cause once I start I won’t stop tell ya drop!
(Musical Interlude)
An the transition of my mission is about to unfold
so get in the pit an jump around like bout to explode.
Cause the sins of a nation are goin to be told.
No they don’t like it when I speak but I’m just that bold,
A country were guilt is measured by money an power,
but I’m gonna swing this axe tell my final hour,
cause my views are a weapon an I’m going to warrrr!

(Yeah my views are a weapon an I’m goin to war!
“ ”
Long Hard Musical Interlude
“ ”
Yeah my views are a weapon an I’m goin to war!)

They want to put me in a cell for smokin a joint,
an let that guy out that’s molestin a child,
it’s that kind shyt that make me go wild.
take a kid away form a single parent doin their best,
an give it back to the person that beats it to death.
An they get away with cause a technicality
an this kinda shyt that is reality.
But in my fantasy you’d both be dead,
Cause I’d take out my hatchet
an chop off you fuckin head.


Whoop Whoop!

Written by me Fiendish~Tiger~Lo Aka Nathan

June 15th 2010!!!

      The traveling was easy, the full wagon was heavy making their progress slow. The days were hot and long, as Phil was pushing for speed and often they rode until they had to stop from lack of light. But at lest the food was good, for he also made sure his guards were well fed to keep up their strength. He didn’t get to see Shalanda much as she rode in the wagon most of the time and by nightfall he was ready to eat and go to sleep. The other guards were friendly and fun loving bunch but kinda kept them out of their ring. So him and Duncan kept to themselfs and just did whatever Windston asked of them. The days turned to weeks and still they pressed on without incident, other than having to replace a few wheels. They stopped in Nimberless for only a day to pick up a few more men, and were off the next morning. A week out of Nimberless Trent and Duncan were riding just a bit behind Windston when Trent had to ask.
    “This is not exactly what I expected Windston, is it always like this I mean we haven’t even seen a goblin since we left Silverbane. I thought something would have happened by now, not that I really wish trouble but well if this is what it’s like it’s very easy pay,” Trent put to him.
    “It do be a bit quit don’t it, but for us that do this as a way of life its a great thing to go through a week even a month with it so quit,” he said with a laugh.
    “Well still most of the time you just ride with the wagon and do nothing but look pretty, it is still great pay,” Trent expressed.
    “I it be, an that what bring a many into the life. Yea we ride beside the wagon an who knows how many bandits an such, we discouraged from attacking because we be here,” Windston explained.
    “So we get paid half a gold a day to intimidate and discourage, sounds like the life to me,” Duncan expressed. 
    “I half a gold a day to intimidate most, but the time will come when it be.....” Windston started but his eyes narrowed and his jolly face turned to stone as he watched the grass, then in a loud voice he yelled, “Time to earn you pay gentlemen, look sharp,”
    As he yelled the grass came alive with movement, as scores of strange looking scaley creatures stood and launched a hail of javelins. Trent reached for his shield bringing it above his head in hopes of deflecting most of the assault, and turned his head to get a better look at the things that attacked them. More than seventy-five of them there were he noted as he did, Their heads had a lizard like appearance, with big round black eyes and a maw that was long, narrowing as it extended to their nostrils, a full set of razor sharp teeth following as it did. They were short most not much over five feet, with yellow-green skin that blended well in the plains. Their legs were squat and sturdy looking, but with a long midriff. Their arms looked strong but wiry and were long coming down below there waist.
    Thankfully their missiles were not well aimed as most hit the ground or wagon, but Trent did fill a thud atop his shield and heard a few shouts of pain. He looked to check on Duncan to find him well with a wicked smile across his face, as he rolled from his horse. Trent as well dismounted for he had not trained for fighting atop a horse and knew he would be more effective on foot. The twang of crossbows filled the air as the guards brought their own missiles to bear to much effect most hitting their mark but only three fell. Trent reached for an arrow, as he slung his shield in place on his back and brought his bow up notching it. Their attack from afar was not over as another volley of javelins filled the air. More shout sounded as they hit, but none of the guard had of yet fell. Trent beaded on a target drawing flinch to ear, and let lose. His arrow flew striking true, taking one of the lizard things in the head and it fell where it stood.
    “Damn Trogs, forget the missile fight and into the fry, Draw steel men,” Windston yelled as he drew his own sword, and spurred his mount foreword.
    Most of the men dismounted as they pulled their weapons, but two others rode foreword atop their steeds. Trent took aim one more time since he already had an arrow in hand and let fly, it hit this one as well taking it the gut, but the arrow just bounced off its hard scales. He saw Duncan run past him, with his great sword in hand. Another volley went into the air as he started forward, this one to devastating effect. One man flew from his horse impaled through the chest, another man dropped taking a hit in his right shoulder, a third fell with a scream as a javelin pierced his eye coming out the back of his head. And a forth man fell taking a hit to the leg, but he stood again. And few others were hit with glancing blows.
    Steel rang on steel as the melee was joined and Trent was not far behind. As he entered he found one engaged with its back to him and he struck hard sending blood in a fountain as he opened it up, and on he went. He heard Duncan’s battle cry and glanced to where his friend was to find him toe to toe with one of the creatures but fairing well.
    One then rounded on him its heavy axe already falling to split his skull, but he deflected it with his shield. He worked his sword fast is a series of strikes but found no opening. Back an forth they searched for the killing blow, but Trent was learning it style quickly, and as it made to strike he stepped in knocking the axe wide and brought his sword in leaving a wide gash across its side. It howled in pain and anger going for another attack, but it found a hard shield in its face and it fell from the blow, which Trent had no trouble stabbing it through as he steeped past to find his next kill. He didn’t have time to check on their progress as two rushed at him. Their attacks were in unison, and it took all his skill to keep the sword and hammer at bay. His hands and arms felt every block as it vibrated through the steel. They pressed in on him with quick strikes, and he took a light hit to the leg. He needed to strike but was unable to as they stepped in making him fall back, but as they did he brought his heavy boot back in kicking one in the stomach. He knew it wouldn’t hurt it much but as he hoped it knocked it back enough for him to step forward and in between them as he turned to place himself behind the other one his sword already falling to take it in the shoulder splitting it near in two. He was not done though his shield came back blocking the hammer that fell at him, and with all is strength he knocked it aside, his blade coming across, and this ones head spun through the air. There were none to engage straight off and he was in full lust as he stocked through the fray taking down the ones that were occupied.
     Five, six, seven, eight, nine,  he counted as they fell before him, most took from behind not even knowing he was there. Until two more came at him, both with swords bearing down. Not waiting for them to press him thou, he stepped in knocking one blade aside with his shield, stepping under the block and dodging the others strike as he spun spilling it guts on the ground. But the other one was faster then he believed as it caught a good strike across his shoulder blade as he spun to met it. He clinched his teeth against the pain and growled in rage, as he fainted a strike at it chest but then dropped into yet another spin bringing his shield above his head as he did. He felt the impact of its blow on his shield just before this one fell to the ground screaming clutching where its leg should have been. With one thought thank you Draven, he went back to work. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen he counted on as took them down.
    Then he heard whooping and looked around to see what was left of their enemy in full flight. Blood and bodies littered the ground mostly with scaley yellow-green skin, and thrust his sword to the air and let out a primal yell. As he did Duncan throw his arm around him and joined him in his celebration. After his lungs could hold it no longer he looked around and saw that most of the guards were wounded but alive. Then he noticed Windston still atop his stallion,  looking at them with a proud smile across his face. Then he glanced to the rest and spoke.
    “Gather what treasures you can, do not think of keeping anything for yourself for I’ll not tolerate stealing. We will split it fairly and my father will pay a fair price for any good items of worth, including weapons that are still serviceable. But be quick about it, you man that are badly injured go to the wagons now and my sister will see to getting you bandaged up.”
    Only three men headed to the wagon, but there were nine that would never get up again. Trent and Duncan went about helping to gather anything that seemed valuable. Duncan spoke first as they searched.
    “I took down twelve, you should have seen it. How many did you get?”
    “Fifteen, fell by my sword,” Trent said bluntly.
    “You both did great, I was worried at first about you two, mass combat is not the same as even two or three against one. But you took to it with good grace. So how do you feel about such a life now, this battle I think was worth the pay, and I think you two earned it well. I think the academy might be hard pressed to teach you two anything,” Windston spoke from behind them.

     Vincent lay in a light slumber when suddenly a loud cry woke him with a start. Instinct brought him to his feet faster than thought, with long sword in hand, as the small tent crashed in shambles about him. The horse was also putting up all sorts of fuss, kicking, rearing, neighing, and stomping the ground. After a quick look around to make sure there was no immediate danger, he spoke softly to calm the bay.
    “Easy boy, calm down, it’s all right,” he said. “An’ if somethin’s out there we can hardly hear it with you makin’ all that racket, now can we.”
    The horse calmed quickly after hearing Vincent’s voice. He heard a soft crys coming from the same vicinity as the sound that had awoken him and it oddly sounded like a baby.
“That’s strange. Maybe the trees are playing tricks with the sound... it must be a young child, but what would a child be doing out here at this time of the night? Maybe it got lost. I’ve gotta find it if that’s the case, as dangerous as it is out here, though it has gotten better,” he told the horse as he listened closely for the direction it was coming from.
    “North, and a little west,” Vincent said to himself as he hopped on Brownie’s  bare back, not wanting to waste time with a saddle, despite the annoyed look the horse gave him.
     The crying quieted  to a whimper, but Vincent had already located the small dark   bundle from which the sound emerged  and as he glanced around he noticed in the distance six large shadowy humanoid shapes. Three of the shapes moved about as if searching for something; the others were standing a little distance away. Low gasping breathing to the right caught his attention next.
    Glancing down, not wanting to take his eyes off the strange sight that could become a danger, he saw laying on the ground a female figure, with five arrows protruding from her. At least a fourth of her bloodline had to be Margoylion, considering the bat-like wings that connected to her back, and some Ramorion blood had to be in her lineage also with the curled horns on her head. At first he thought that it was Natasha, his third wife, that was lying there in a pool of blood until, with a look of surprise she turned her beautiful green eyes that were missing Natasha’s cat like slits to him.

Her arm moved, reaching desperately toward the small bundle just out of reach. She whispered something so soft and labored that he barely knew she had spoke. As he dismounted and moved quietly towards her, the face came completely into view, and he recognized her. It was Tamara, a woman he had once met by mistaking her for Natasha not long after he had met her, and later his brother had introduced him to her, for she had joined his little wandering band.
    Just as he started to say something she spoke. “My son, please, sir,” and stopped as a look of wonder and disbelief came across her face.
    “Tragar, is it really you? I saw you fall!” she asked.
    “No, it’s Vincent. It is you, Tamara, is it not?”
    “Yes, it is Vincent.  Sorry it’s just that you two look so much alike and I hoped you were him.”
    “What in the nine hells is going on here? And who is Tragar?” he whispered.
    “We don’t have time for that,” indicating with her eyes the shapes still searching the ground about forty yards away. “Tragar, my husband, and Dareames your brother, are dead,” she said as a look of sorrow came to her eyes. “And I’m dying. I don’t know how or why you’re here, but please, my son, at least you can save him. Take him and raise him as yours, please. We were on are way to you and my cousin Natasha’s, when they attacked us.
    “So I ran hoping to make it to safety, but now you must take care of him. And I could not have hoped for this great a gift, for if I had known this would happen and I was given a choice of who would take him, I would choose your family.”    
    Vincent forced his brother’s fate aside for the moment, for if Dareames was truly dead there was nothing that could be done about it, and he had a friend that needed his strength now.
    “Your son? When did...”That was all he could get out before she cut him off.
    “Yes, my son, there,” she said looking at the bundle just beyond her reach.
    “What about you? I can’t just leave you.”
    “Yes, you can!” cough!, cough!! “And you will, just take Draven and go now! Before they find us,” she demanded.
    “Do you know what they are? Maybe I can take care of them,” Vincent suggested.
    “Orog I think, but some look a little different and I’ve never seen one fight with such skill. They took down Tragar and Dareames with the loss of but six. They were good fighters, even you can’t be-beat six ah ah of th-them by ah ah yourself ahhh AHHHahhh!” she moaned as he watched the last of her life slowly drain from those beautiful green eyes.
    With a small prayer to Tandor, the god of death, the keeper of souls, to watch over her, her unmet husband’s, and possibly his brother’s souls. He told her goodbye, by kissing his fingertips and gently closing her eyelids. Then he looked at the three orog now only a little over thirty yards away as he reached for the dark bundle that she had called Draven.
    There was a loud squawk as he lifted the babe, and the black raven flew to the trees. The Orog’s attention snapped to them at the noise, looking up from their frantic search to see him picking up the babe. As the three rushed forward at full speed through the trees, a deep low growl slowly rose from their throats to a snarling howl of rage. He sat the child back on the ground and reached for his bow, which he realized was back at camp when he did not find it.
                     “Bones and ashes,” he cursed himself for leaving the bow. “No choice now.”  He would have to face at least these three up close and hope he could manage to get it over before the others caught up to them. There was no time to flee the one in the lead, its yellow eyes glowing fiercely as it raced toward him from only five yards away. The next one was about half that behind the first, and the last that again behind the second.
    Vincent’s mind raced for a plan that would get him out of this mess, knowing he had to do something, but what. His thoughts spun, fog-like clouds ran through his mind with flashing scenes of possibilities and outcomes. As he saw the first crash into the small clearing he emptied his mind, set all thought aside, and become one within himself transforming into pure instinct, action to reaction. He let loose of all things, felt no fear, no anger as he committed himself to death.
    With a huge battle-ax crashing down to split his skull, Vincent sprang into motion, his long sword a flash behind. With a loud crack the sword hit wood and ax head went flying. Vincent then sidestepped to his left reversing his swing and sliced deep into the orog’s right side. He then stepped  forward into a right spin to place himself behind the orog, as he quickly flicked  his wrist, and twirled the sword  into a reverse grip and thrust back. He heard the groan of death as he loosed the blade from the creature’s back and dove. He hit the ground and rolled, and as he did he felt the cold biting pain of steel slice lightly across his right thigh, also hearing the sound of flesh cleaving and bones breaking. Already back on his feet, his taut muscles constricted to strike, he saw the other orog struggling to get its ax free from the one he had left dead. Not losing a second, he bound through the air, bringing sword down in a deadly arc straight for the base of its neck. Blood sprayed as the head rolled out of his vision.
    The last of the three crashed through the trees as Vincent turned, stopping dead in its tracks with a bewildered look. Vincent knew the large bulky orog had not expected to see the other two in a bloody heap, not that it cared that they had died. But Vincent knew that it gave pause to weigh its opponent, something he had never in all his life seen an orog do, and he had seen plenty.
    As he stood there waiting for the action that would bring his reaction, he remembered the war with wave after wave of orog crashing down on his forces, some so far into battle lust they chopped down their own to get to the next enemy, each of his men dropping ten to fifteen apiece before they fell and still they came tromping over their own wounded. It seemed that for every ten that fell twenty would replace them. He had called for retreat, as the men already fell back, some running. Then the worst; as he turned to flee an arrow took him from his horse, and he spent the next seven years as a slave to those monsters. He was lucky to have made it out of that uneaten.
    Sudden movement from the orog brought him out of his thoughts. As he watched the orog step forward studying him, he knew that this was not normal behavior for an orog. Just when he thought he might make it, and then something new. At least the other three found this amusing and hadn’t started that way. The orog slowly started to circle him and he turned with it. Moments later he heard the very familiar tongue of the Orog from one of the other three. The voice sounded extremely commanding as it gave the order.
    “Don’t be a fool. Put his back to us and we’ll fill him with arrows,” it said.
    He had his escape, the others couldn’t get to him. He’d play their game. They didn’t expect him to know their tongue. Vincent let the burly orog circle him ‘til his back was to the others, as he watched the wide yellow-eyes of the beast in front of him, with all concentration focused behind. His ears strained, listening for the sound that was his escape. Then twang, swoosh; arrows flew inches above his head as he rolled across the ground. They hit the large orog squarely in the chest as his sword penetrated deep into its abdomen. With only a gasp of air it fell to the ground with a loud thud. Already back on the horse and moving he heard their angry growls and arrows flew, thudding into trees behind him. He looked down and saw the bundle that was Draven in his arms, not even remembering that he had picked him up.

Lost again within the dark confinds of my own mind

I do set night by night and ponder why

Though I know the stars are there up in the sky

I do not see them twinlking though I seek to find

The moon continues is monthly faze

Each night it slowly passes true

But to mine eye it’s a constant new

Not like before when it did amaze

Darkness fills my thoughts

Like clouds before a strom

So I set and watch it form

While my heart slowly rots

For the pieces never fully mend

Even though I try to put them right

So I try with all my might

To make it through life too the end

I can only hope to make it feel anew

And find someone to feel the hole

So search within your soul  

For you never know it could be you

Writen by Nathan Breshears (AKA Midnight~Tiger )(06-09-09)

Blessed Be Always

The Wiccan Rede

Bide within the Law you must, in perfect Love and perfect Trust.
Live you must and let to live, fairly take and fairly give.

For tread the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out.
To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme.

Light of eye and soft of touch, speak you little, listen much.
Honor the Old Ones in deed and name,
let love and light be our guides again.

Deosil go by the waxing moon, chanting out the joyful tune.
Widdershins go when the moon doth wane,
and the werewolf howls by the dread wolfsbane.

When the Lady's moon is new, kiss the hand to Her times two.
When the moon rides at Her peak then your heart's desire seek.

Heed the North winds mighty gale, lock the door and trim the sail.
When the Wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast.

When the wind comes from the South, love will kiss you on the mouth.
When the wind whispers from the West, all hearts will find peace and rest.

Nine woods in the Cauldron go, burn them fast and burn them slow.
Birch in the fire goes to represent what the Lady knows.

Oak in the forest towers with might, in the fire it brings the God's
insight. Rowan is a tree of power causing life and magick to flower.

Willows at the waterside stand ready to help us to the Summerland.
Hawthorn is burned to purify and to draw faerie to your eye.

Hazel-the tree of wisdom and learning adds its strength to the bright fire burning.
White are the flowers of Apple tree that brings us fruits of fertility.

Grapes grow upon the vine giving us both joy and wine.
Fir does mark the evergreen to represent immortality seen.

Elder is the Lady's tree burn it not or cursed you'll be.
Four times the Major Sabbats mark in the light and in the dark.
As the old year starts to wane the new begins, it's now Samhain.
When the time for Imbolc shows watch for flowers through the snows.

When the wheel begins to turn soon the Beltane fires will burn.
As the wheel turns to Lamas night power is brought to magick rite.

Four times the Minor Sabbats fall use the Sun to mark them all.
When the wheel has turned to Yule light the log the Horned One rules.

In the spring, when night equals day time for Ostara to come our way.
When the Sun has reached it's height time for Oak and Holly to fight.

Harvesting comes to one and all when the Autumn Equinox does fall.
Heed the flower, bush, and tree by the Lady blessed you'll be.

Where the rippling waters go cast a stone, the truth you'll know.
When you have and hold a need, harken not to others greed.

With a fool no season spend or be counted as his friend.
Merry Meet and Merry Part bright the cheeks and warm the heart.

Mind the Three-fold Laws you should three times bad and three times good.
When misfortune is enow wear the star upon your brow.

Be true in love this you must do unless your love is false to you.

These Eight words the Rede fulfill:

"An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will"

Within this lonely heart, is love.
Within this shattered soul, a passion burns.
Within this mortal flesh, feelings reside.
Within this twisted mind, a thousand thoughts and more.
Beneth this guise of what you see, and what I choose to show is so much more then you may ever know!
Within this darkness do I rome, lost again within it's hold.
A light of fire did once peirce the night, so again I seek a spark to start a flame.


This path is long with many forks, and the road to take is always the hardest.
Many battles will I fight along the way, though maybe not of blood be told.
Battles of mind, heart and soul will rage within me.
Choices to make and ones already made will haunt me as well along my way.
But I will stand fast against them and look twards my next opponet with confidince.       
For even if he wins a battle I will face him again with the knowlage of are last dual.
With my wits and knowlage as my wapons I will surely over come this path in life that I chouse to walk.
Along the way a new companion I hope will join my side and back to back we will face are enemies, with love to heal the wounds of each there will be nothing that cannot be over came.

My the Blessing of the Goddess always be apon you
Midnight~Tiger