Lord-Elcore

We are one but we are many, so speaketh legion Australia as an ever changing conglomeration of identities, is, as human individuality demands, in perpetual flux and free from the certain stabilities that are accepted as standard for long stretches of the average sentient mind’s lifespan. The changes are, innumerable in class and content, and every minor, modest, modification made to one’s mind every moment is multiplied many millions of times on the macro-scale. Unfortunately, man was made with incomprehensible complexity, and free will ensures that every man is innately unique. This means that for every single one of our country&#

The commandos came from every angle, firing rapidly into the Geonosian hordes. We had to complete the mission. Hatch took a spear to the chest and dropped his gun. I caught him as he collapsed and hauled him over my shoulder as the mission parameters demanded. Hatch had been with me longer than any commandos before. I sprinted while firing my DC-15, he looked pretty bad. He moaned as I lay him down behind some cover and something wriggled at the back of my mind. I withdrew my bacta applier and pulled off Hatch’s helmet. He had to be healed, for the good of the mission. His face was bloodied and his expression was pained. “The missio

"Fine men know their way through the patzmati!" Kitsum clicked his fingers and brushed aside the flimsy whim of verbal retaliation. His pace slowed not, and he turned through the dusty white arch and walked along the dusty white track through the white stone city. Mac hiel’s feet slapped after him and then stopped at the arch. Kitsum looked not back. Presently the winds of the outer plateau replaced the tepid atmosphere that adorned the Adrin. To both left and right, over the edge of the plateau he viewed the ends of the sand earth. Ahead however, the Boulder of Taman broke the arid rank of the edge of the plateau. Taman, he knew had

Like through a bed sheet On a clear sunny day, There’s bright sunny haze, As I look every way Thus, my thoughts. Decay not in naught My heart urges advance, but will shan’t be bought. Reality has caught fast, like the fishman, his quarry, my soul, my hope, the murder of worry. The door to the conclusion of my thought, is ajar My ideas of beyond are thus, unclear I know where they are, but I can’t see that far I shed for my hope, an emotionless tear

The Donkey called Greg, the seven Dwarves and the Fairy Kingdom. A long time ago in… well, okay, this galaxy there was a Donkey named Greg. Greg lived in Badnamesville, which was just about the most boring place on earth everything had horrible, horrible names. Greg had changed his name from Bruce. One day Greg woke from a dreamless sleep and got out of his grey square bed and decided to leave his home. He clomped down the grey hallway and ate his breakfast: grey grass with grey milk. He told his family of the journey he had decided to undertake and they were as shocked as anyone in Badnamesville could be. His brother, Horse, said that he wa