Majo's Tale, Part Four

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Majo pulled Joeia aside, looking him in the eyes. “So what now? Do we stumble into this city drunk? With the Dead possibly lurking in the shadows?”

And it Has Risen!

     Ah, the miracles that Voudou can do, especially when combined with a reasonable technician and cheap but good parts. While Corey (I didn't get his name but I named him Corey) got the replacement parts for my computer together, I decided I'd add a little of my own horror-fueled flair to try and add divine intervention on my computers repairs.

Real World Horror: Death Throes of a Great Computer

     Many of you may have noticed my lack of updates on the site. Some of that many may have actually wondered why this is. Part of it is because I'm entering a lazy stage where I just wish to rest on my laurels and post what I've stored up, so I have to do so sparingly to make this last until inspiration hits once more.
     The other reason, as of today, is my computer is emitting a death howl. the dying scream of an internal fan that must be replaced. I've left detailed instructions for the wife on how to get the computer to the repair place and what to do, but must be content with the fact I will be sans operating system for at least a week.
     Probably more.
     Alas, such is life in a modern age in a first world nation... I have to go without my computer for a week and I feel as if I am cut off from my life line. Perhaps I should be more thankful for the things I do have...
     Like the two spare computers I have that don't work.
     Really should get these things fixed...

Majo's Tale, Part Three

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Joeia smiled before moving forward, pointing and barking orders as he went. Several warriors went into the jungle to gather fallen branches, while the warrior from earlier came porting a sealed vase of Octli, easily half the size of the man himself. Placing it at Majo’s feet, Majo used his obsidian dagger to cut through the waxen seal, savoring the sour smell of the potent liquor that wafted up from the ceramic jar. Turning, he watched as the men used their spears to hook the torsos of the dead, dragging them into a relative pile. Three Dead lay upon each other, flensing the hide of one of the fallen comrades with the tentacles, blood slowly oozing from the wounds of the cold dead flesh, to be greedily lapped up by the twisting tentacles like the tongues of thirsty dogs.