Edward Stokes

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After my contract I want to become a preacher about our mother mary according to what I'm seeing in my life now days. Steve is alive! Woooooooohhoooooooo. Preston school of industry watch full length film.

As a young teen i was given what i later realized was a great blessing. In my young life i had the extreme honor( although not knowing this at the time) of having met and befriended Conchita, Joey,Bishop and Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta. To anyone debating the reality of the visions I assure you they are real! You must remember as Catholics we believe blindly is the core and strength of our faith! In this confusing secular world we need to see,touch,taste. In the world of our faith all we need is the grace God our Father gives us. Remove yourselves from there world of proof and return to Our Father. He is there waiting for all of us. I speak this as a sinner not worthy of having had this blessing i BELIEVE.
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Suspenseful, fun, not too scary; just enough scare! Entertaining and different than all the typical, non-original "horror/thriller" films. I also enjoyed knowing that the Preston Castle scenes were actually shot in the castle, made it more thrilling for me. Preston school of industry watch full length video. What you are seeing here is a story follow up to this: One Taken, One Gathered. When it came to war, the presence of the advocates of the Masked was an accepted reality. After all, there was much for them to do on the battlefield. Given time, wandering souls could find their own way to the afterlife. Usually. Still, any amount of time spent wandering risked putting those souls at risk. In the right eyes or, the wrong ones, a soul was a resource to be manipulated. And few fields were as fertile for wandering souls as the field of war. Soldiers and warriors both watched for the advocates. Perhaps the youngest and unblooded were unaware, but the old veterans? That superstitious lot knew after all. They knew of the sight afforded to the advocates by their Patron. Koren, First Advocate The dull roar of battle filled his ears. Clashes and clangs of metal ringing around him. Koren raised his sword high, deflecting the spear away before bringing the blade back down. The edge of his sword bit into the maned neck of the Coyo warrior and Koren's opponent barked in pain upon receiving the edge of the blade. Flailing, the male Coyo fell back, exposing his leathery belly to the follow-up thrust of Koren's sword. There was one last flail of taloned feet, but Koren had already stepped back. Lady Cherise cawed from overhead, flying about to gather the unmoored souls in her black wings. Koren took a moment to lean on his sword as he found himself in a moment of calm. There were always those who felt like they could earn accolades by striking down an advocate such as himself. Not an easy feat when Death itself had him scheduled for later. Koren's eyes peered through the blank mask on his face. At least for the moment, he could see no signs of danger. Koren still kept his head on a swivel. She may have scheduled his demise for later, but that schedule could be altered if he didn't take steps and pay attention. All advocates had a complicated relationship with their own end. A squad of scaled warriors joined upon him from behind. Koren turned his head to see the squad of Drakken, stopping to see to him. "You didn't need us! " The leader said through sharp grinning teeth, her bright yellow scales gleaming. "You advocates fight well! " Her male subordinates were not nearly so flashy as her, typical male colouring ranged from brown scales to dull black. All of them wore a simple breastplate, with an emphasis on shoulder guards and long gauntlets to match their natural forward-leaning posture. Shin and thigh guards protected the front of their reverse jointed legs, and their ever-moving whip tails had various bladed instruments lashed to the tips. A row of bladed spines ran down their backs, starting at a set of backswept horns on each of their long heads. Koren was looking at an elite squad as well. The female captain and her soldiers bore signs of seed overuse. The Drakken could breathe fire thanks to their elemental seeds, but all along the necks of these soldiers, Koren could see charred cracks starting to open up. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this damage, like burnt and exceptionally rough tree bark from the early stages of overuse. One soldier in the back of the group was noticeably worse, the cracks along his neck open and glowing, leaking orange light. Two cracks extended from the corners of his mouth, and even his throat glowed from within, giving him the appearance of having a twisted, unholy smile. It would take him some time for the warrior to recover from this state. Such was the cost of magic. He could keep using his seed. Indeed in this overcharged state his effectiveness would only rise, but to do so was to literally burn his life away. A seed it was, but one had to be careful lest it sprout. That so many Drakken soldiers bore such signs was a dark testament to the length of this war. "You came to aid me none the less, my thanks, " Koren responded, giving her a nod of respect. He cast his eyes across the battlefield. "What do you see? " The captain asked. "The battle continues, " Koren noted, "but for me, a moment of calm. " "Then I will leave you to enjoy it, there are more dogs to slay! " She raised her spear above her head and her soldiers hooted. They moved on to rejoin the battle. Cherise landed in his shoulder, his beloved raven adjusting her wings. Koren raised a hand to scritch behind her head as he surveyed the battle. She warbled her appreciation. A pitched battle was being waged on the plains before him, Drakken fighting with spears, skill and gouts of flame. Coyo fighting with superior numbers and precision. On the edges of the battle, Drakken lizriders scythed through the edges of the Coyo ranks with sustained blasts of flame. The fire was less concentrated with them on the move but no less effective. In the opposite flank, Coyo crossbowmen held the advantage. What they lacked for in magic, they made up for in precision and craftsmanship. Many Drakken reeled back, felled by flurries of bolts. A gathering of power pulled him that way. As always, the great loss of life saddened Koren. He reached up and adjusted the mask on his face before moving on. While the scaled Drakken and furred Coyo were similar in stature and both emphasized a martial nature, the two races had never been friends in recorded memory. Favourites of the elemental god, Kusignis of Heartflame, almost all Drakken were born with a seed of fire. Just about any Drakken could breathe that fire, and many learned to do more. All Drakken were scaled and coloured in variations of warm tones. And they revelled in combat. The Coyo however, well, there were few races with less aptitude for magic. Few races were less likely than Coyo to be born with a seed of their own. They too had the forward-leaning posture and reverse jointed legs, but instead of scales and spines, they grew fur from their backs and their undersides were leathery. Males typically grew manes of fur. They would grow spiral goat horns as well and their short tails all bore variations of spikes but lacked the effectiveness of the longer Drakken tails. Lacking magic didn't make them a lesser power. It just made them bitter. The Coyo were a people that valued skill in all things and had maintained a strong empire as far back as memory could go. In the end, their similarities only served to drive the Drakken and Coyo apart. But even in cases where the Drakken and Coyo didn't hate each other, they were still heated rivals. Koren knew all too well what this conflict was about. This war was not a battle between respected opponents. It was a battle steeped in rage and perceived wrongs. The Drakken nodded and stepped away, pulling the tent flap aside. Koren nodded back and entered. "-and with a sustained flame and wind barrier, we can weather the storm of bolts! " General Sdisk, a large male Drakken with deep brown scales, mottled with speckles of purple was speaking. Wearing little more than a black vest and a leather banded kilt, he still cut an imposing figure with his thick scales and the bladed ridge down his spine. Cherise cawed softly and fluttered her tail as Koren took place near the entrance. "We risk burning out our best cavalry! This campaign has pushed them to their limits! " Sdisk's counterpart, general Oshal argued back. A female with supple and brilliant yellow scales glared at Sdisk. Her shoulders bore the typical crackling of seed overuse, brown cracks spreading up her sinuous neck and across her arms and down her back. Her status was that of a mage however, Sdisk lacked the glowing smile. It was firebreathing that encouraged the cracking of the neck and mouth. There were more individuals in the tent standing over the scattered maps, minor nobles and their attendant servants. Rows of figurines were lined up on the table, showing the opposing forces as expected for today's battle. While there were others here, it was the two generals and one other who dominated. "First advocate, " a voice spoke up, acknowledging Koren with gravitas. "Your highness, " Koren replied, inclining his masked head. The Prince of Ars, Raske Vylcan, was unmistakable. Only the Drakken royal family bore such pristine white scales and bright red eyes. In size and posture, the Prince was smaller than general Sdisk, but he held himself with such confidence that he dominated the room. The Prince wore a simple vest and kilt as well, the only decorations were the elaborate caps on his horns, detailed with gems and engravings to show his status and prowess. "As always, I send my gratitude with you First advocate, " The Prince met the eyes of the masked Koren wore without flinching. When he looked away, it was not due to the empty eyes the mask would show anyone who looked upon it. "Would that this war had not been made necessary. " The Prince spoke with regret. Koren nodded, "your gratitude is received, and I agree. " The generals continued to argue their positions. Koren listened impassively. He was First advocate only because he was literally the first to arrive. The advocates of the Masked had little advice to offer in this conflict. Events here had to play themselves out or else only further tragedy lay ahead. It was rare indeed for advocates to interfere in such things. In any case, it was only in matters of pure survival that advocates like him could freely offer advice without political backlash. Death was usually unconcerned by when an individual died, all would see the Mask in time. But when it came to the Death of thousands or more, there were more rules to consider. And Koren wasn't privy to many of his Patron's secrets. Reflexively, Koren tapped into one of the higher senses of his mask a
Letter 1 To Mrs. Saville, England. St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17?. You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking. I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is for ever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There?for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators?there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent for ever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine. These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquillise the mind as a steady purpose?a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favourite dream of my early years. I have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our good Uncle Thomas’ library. My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father’s dying injunction had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life. These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also became a poet and for one year lived in a paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated. You are well acquainted with my failure and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just at that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent. Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I can, even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself to this great enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship. I accompanied the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea; I voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep; I often worked harder than the common sailors during the day and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself as an under-mate in a Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration. I must own I felt a little proud when my captain offered me the second dignity in the vessel and entreated me to remain with the greatest earnestness, so valuable did he consider my services. And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, when theirs are failing. This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia. They fly quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stagecoach. The cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs?a dress which I have already adopted, for there is a great difference between walking the deck and remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins. I have no ambition to lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburgh and Archangel. I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three weeks; and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many sailors as I think necessary among those who are accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet. If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never. Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on you, and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude for all your love and kindness. Your affectionate brother, R. Walton To Mrs. Archangel, 28th March, 17?. How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow! Yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom I have already engaged appear to be men on whom I can depend and are certainly possessed of dauntless courage. But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy, and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil, I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathise with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution and too impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas’ books of voyages. At that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my native country. Now I am twenty-eight and am in reality more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more and that my daydreams are more extended and magnificent, but they want (as the painters call it) keeping; and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind. Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. Yet some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even in these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory, or rather, to word my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in his profession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and professional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of the noblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel; finding that he was unemployed in this city, I easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise. The master is a person of an excellent disposition and is remarkable in the ship for his gentleness and the mildness of his discipline. This circumstance, added to his well-known integrity and dauntless courage, made me very desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent u
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