Project #3: Geological Formations

My first project was on geological formations.

Here's the writing section. It is a persuasive essay on the topic of creation and evolution views:

Rocks Never Lie

For all of history, the human race has wanted to know where it came from. The search for our origins has taken us high and low, across the world and beyond. Rocks, dirt, and bones are where some look. Others pore over ancient legends and manuscripts. Still others find their answers in the Bible, God’s Word. All of the evidence has been examined, and two viewpoints have come forward.

The first of these stems from the Bible, in the book of Genesis. It states there that God created the world and everything in it, including humans, in six days. This view is called Creationism and requires a world less than 10,000 years old, with all types of creatures existing at the same time when they were created. For thousands of years people have believed in this beginning, and it was only in the nineteenth century that a new view began to surface.

Everyone has heard of the journey of Charles Darwin to the Galapagos Islands, where he came up with his earth-shattering ideas of natural selection that grew into the Theory of Evolution. Schools across the US have adopted this theory as absolute fact, based on the word of the esteemed scientists who support it. It speaks of a billions of years old earth that began with no life whatsoever. It tells how atoms on the surface collided and began to form microscopic organisms randomly, and how these organisms, over the years, evolved into the myriad creatures we see on the Earth today, including humans.

To prove their theory of a billions of years old earth, evolutionists often turn to a process called “rock dating”. In the Earth’s crust are many layers of rock and dirt of different colors and textures. Through several processes, scientists try to put ages to these layers, often coming up with ages of millions or billions of years. However, not everyone believes these claims, most notably creationists.

For example, one of the more common methods of rock dating is called “carbon dating”. Most organic materials contain carbon, a chemical that decays over time. By finding the amount of carbon in a sample of fossilized plant or animal, scientists can ascertain how long the fossil has been there. However, certain studies have shown that carbon dating becomes unreliable in objects more than 3000 years old.

Carbon dating, of course, requires fossils, another of evolutionists favorite “evidences”. Fossils are the remains of dead animals that have been buried over time and have eventually been petrified. It is a topic of great controversy just how old certain fossils are. You see, the theory of evolution requires a progression of fossils, growing more and more complex and evolved, dating back millions of years. But one thing that is a very uncommon find(if not nonexistent) is a transitional species.

Transitional species are the organisms that evolutionists claim come between two groups of organisms in evolution. Archaeopteryx is a bird that was found in 1861 near Solnhofen, Germany. It has hollow bones, feathers, and a wishbone, common features of a bird’s anatomy. What makes this specimen so appealing to evolutionists is that it also has teeth, a flat breastbone, a bony tail, and three claws on each wing, features that supposedly point to reptiles. Evolutionists claim that this is a transitional species between dinosaurs and birds. Creationists think otherwise.

It turns out that fossils of regular birds have turned up in “older” rock strata. If these birds evolved from Archaeopteryx, how could they have existed before? In addition, scientists have found most of the lizard-like characteristics of Archeopteryx in other birds that are still alive today. Those they haven’t found aren’t present in all reptiles.

Archaeopteryx isn’t the evolutionists only “transitional species”. Everyone has heard of the supposed “ape men” that we evolved from. If you asked, evolutionists could list several fossils that were found that they think came between apes and humans. If you look closely, though, you’ll find that all of these are either very humanlike or very apelike. In fact, the main distinction that is used is the jaw. Humans have a parabolic (rounded V) jaw, and most modern apes have a square jaw. Therefore, human fossils with more square jaws are deemed “apelike”, while ape fossils with angled jaws are “humanlike”. It’s not a very strong connection.

One of the biggest obstacles for evolution is the existence of fossil graveyards. These are large deposits of fossils, often of many different species. If these creatures didn’t exist at the same time, how could so many of their fossils be found together. For that matter, would animals really lay down and die in piles? Evolutionists claim that these groups are formed when animals died close together over thousands of years. But seriously, what are the odds of that happening?

Evolution is a view that is based on a multitude of theories. Each piece of “evidence”, transitional fossils, rock dating; each of these can be explained in another way by Creationists. With the help of the Bible, we can learn more about our origins and a God-created world.

My creative section was a sculpture of a rock formation in Validar (the world in which my previous writing project took place).

For memorization, I memorized the types of rock formations and what they look like.

Project #2: Pacific Islands

My second project was on islands in the Pacific Ocean.

Here's the writing section. It is a story of Rhund the Traveler, a character that I created, and it takes place in the world of Validar:

The Sons of Seracaani

In the time of the Empire of Glass, when mirrors walked and walls were alive, Rhund the Traveler searched in vain for the secrets of the First Kings. His search had taken him to every corner of the world, and yet he had found nothing. The last place left to search was the island of Dantis, the Green Tooth in the Sea of the Sky, west of Aldon. Traveling across the sea, Rhund and his companion and mentor, Odwaan, arrived on its shores.

The beaches of Dantis were covered with sand the deep green of emerald, and blue-grey cliffs loomed up out of the dense forest. Odwaan set out in search of supplies as Rhund pulled their small boat onto the sand. As the Traveler watched his friend’s black cloak disappear into the foliage, he leaned against the boat and fell into a deep sleep.

It seemed like only seconds before he awoke to find a moldy orange tentacle wrapped around his neck. He tried to cry out, but the arm grew tighter around his neck, and began to burn with a searing heat. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Odwaan’s silver claws bit into the fiery arm. It quickly crusted over with frost, and the attacker drew it back into the water.

However, the searchers had no time for rest. A rain of spears, each tipped with a long, pointed shell, plunged into the water where the monster had appeared. Rhund and Odwaan turned to see a group of warriors clad in green from the waist down, with blue-gray straps of scaly hide strapped around their chests, stride onto the beach. They wore helmets made of wood with feathers the same gray as the cliffs, and their chests and faces were painted with blue. Some carried shell-tipped spears, while others brandished wooden carved clubs with large pointed teeth affixed to their perimeter. Their leader, a powerful looking man with wooden armor on his chest and forearms, more teeth attached to the arm guards, sized the two up and then made a beckoning sign with his hand. Then the warriors disappeared into the trees, the travelers following behind.

For several minutes, the group walked between scaly-barked trees, the only sound being the many noisy birds calling to each other. Eventually, the forest thinned and a circle of sheer stone walls appeared. There was no visible entrance, but the islanders strode up to it and unlimbered the straps around their shoulders. Then, holding a strap in each hand, they swung them at the stone. Shockingly, they stuck, allowing the soldiers to climb hand over hand to the top. Pausing at the top, the captain let down a rope ladder for the visitors to climb.

Inside was a large, bustling village full of islanders wearing wraps of the same green material as the warriors. They stopped what they were doing to watch the two strangers as they strode between the wooden buildings. Coming to the center of the village, Rhund and Odwaan stared up at a tall stone spire, with windows and doors carved into the surface.

The captain entered the tower and the companions followed him up a staircase to a room in the top. There waited an old villager, painted completely with blue, his cloak woven with grey feathers and teeth. He gazed at the newcomers with dark eyes as the captain spoke in a strange tongue.

“It is long since we have had visitors,” he said in a surprisingly strong voice. “I hope that you find our home hospitable.”

They assured him that they did, and he smiled. “I am called Sari-Lun. I can see that you have traveled far, so you will find tonight’s feast quite refreshing.” They were led to an empty house, and there waited until the celebration began.

That night, mats of green cloth were laid throughout the village and food was set on them. Everyone turned out for the feasting, and musicians played from the tops of the buildings. There were countless types of fruits, tender meat in dark sauce, and mash of every flavor. Everyone ate their fill, and laughter and shouting filled the night.

When the food was gone, a bonfire was lit before the central tower, and the islanders sat in a ring to watch the singing and dancing. The bonfire grew bright as the night grew dark, and everyone was content. But just as Rhund was able to relax, a cloud covered the village. A sudden, icy rain doused the fire, and Sari-Lun cried out, “They are upon us!”

The crowd rushed into huts and the warriors ran to the wall. Rhund and Odwaan followed, each drawing his weapon. From the stone cliffs, the assembled fighters gazed out at an army emerging from the trees. They were hundreds of fish, moving like snakes across the ground, with grey skin and gaping jaws full of teeth. Starting, Rhund recognized them as Xarmanna, strange fish that the natives had described to him earlier. Then he looked farther and saw five horrifying monsters step out of the forest.

They were taller than a man, with slimy tentacles covering their torso and face. Instead of hands and feet, they had clusters of longer tentacles, and each had five eyes, four small black ones and one large white one. They were dirty orange, acid yellow, sickly green, moldy blue, and murky grey. Each wore a suit of deep black armor, and, hissing, they stalked nearer the wall.

Islanders and visitors alike began to bombard the Xarmanna that were already scaling the walls with ease, Rhund with his vocyll, Odwaan with his bazzik, and the natives with their spears. Promptly, the squid creatures began to fling Xarmanna back at the defenders. Nearing the wall, the blue and green creatures stopped while the other three began to slither up the wall. Rhund paused and reached into his coat to find the Naming Stone he carried, then stared at the green being as the earth began to undulate like waves on the ocean under its “feet”. When its name, Dalga-Serac, was revealed to him, he turned to the blue one, who was hurling blasts of thunder at the walls. Its name was Gulur-Serac.

Suddenly, the cliff rumbled and warriors began to leap down. Rhund followed their lead just as the portion he was standing on collapsed, allowing the Xarmanna to stream in. The islanders drew wooden weapons covered with sharp teeth from their belts and beset the fish. Bracing himself, Rhund ran with Odwaan towards the orange and grey beings, who were tossing the defenders aside as if they weighed nothing. The orange one (Yanq-Serac) turned at their approach and its eyes narrowed.

“You are not belonging,” it said in an oozing, crackling voice. “You are of land.”

It turned to Odwaan and hissed. “You are the one of ice. You burned me.”

The grey creature (Bdul-Serac) changed its expression to imitate a smile. “Our father wants you. You will not burn us again.”

“Who is your father?” Rhund asked, raising his staff in readiness.

Both beings leered. “We are the Sons of Seracaani.” Then they struck.

It was all the Traveler could do to hold back the furious onslaught from Bdul-Serac. It seemed that Odwaan’s claws could not pierce the black armor that Yanq-Serac wore, and he was tiring quickly, dodging the beast’s burning arms. But then Rhund’s teacher stopped. He stood rigid for a second, then dropped to the ground limply. Behind him stood the yellow being (Siqim-Serac), who still had lightning running across his body. Yanq-Serac shrieked in delight, and he and his glowing brother lifted Odwaan and rushed toward the breach.

Seeing this, Rhund shouted and tried to follow, only to be knocked back by one of Bdul-Serac’s grey arms. Then the monster inhaled and breathed a thick blanket of smoke over the village. Rhund attacked with renewed fury, but the lashing whips continued to evade him in the dark fog. Again and again the warrior lashed out with his vocyll, and again and again, Bdul-Serac dodged and struck back.

After several precious minutes of this, Rhund saw his attacker’s brothers entering the trees with Odwaan between them. Seeing this caused him to pause and think of what his teacher would tell him. He thought of Bdul-Serac, a creature who thrived in darkness, and he quickly reached into his coat. Seeing his hesitation, Bdul-Serac leapt out of the smoke, only to reel back as Rhund pulled out an eldursta, blinding him with its light. Rhund then lunged forward and found his mark.

Not waiting to see if his blow had been fatal, he sprinted through the gap and into the jungle. Before long he spotted the Sons of Seracaani slithering ahead. For hours Rhund followed the creatures between drooping trees and across dark streams. When his limbs felt as if they could go no further, Yanq-Serac and Siqim-Serac came to a dark canyon. Rhund slowed and crept in behind them.

The cliff walls were splattered with tarry slime and bones littered the floor. Rhund stepped carefully past weapons and armor, not only from Dantis, but from countless places on Validar’s coast. It was with relief that the hero stepped into the open, but it was not to last. The clearing was surrounded by more cliffs, and in the center lay a large lake. Green mist floated above the water, carrying a dead, rotting odor. Rhund hurriedly hid behind a boulder as the Sons of Seracaani carried Odwaan to the lake shore.

There awaited a large wooden stake driven into the ground. Rhund watched in horror as Siqim-Serac used chains to bind the black-cloaked figure to the pole. Stepping forward, Yanq-Serac let loose a shrill cry over the water, then stepped back with his brother. From the shadows of the cliffs came Dalga-Serac and Gulur-Serac, each with glowing cuts marring their grimy bodies. The four Sons and the two Travelers stared out at the lake, where something was moving.

The center of the lake began to froth. Waves swiftly spread to the shore while thick black serpents rose higher and higher into the misty air. All grew silent except for the bubbling of the water. Then a monstrous form burst out of the lake, drenching the entire clearing with murky water.

It was a deep, dark purple, almost black, and long black tentacles grew from its sides and back, weaving to and fro like giant snakes. More tentacles sprouted from its torso in place of legs, and smaller ones covered its chest and dangled from its face. It had the same face as the Sons, but its fifth eye was covered by yet another cluster of tentacles. It rose up, then crashed back down, its tentacles affixing themselves to the walls of the clearing.

It gazed down at its captive with icy cold eyes. Leaning closer, it hissed, “So you are the clawed one. I presume you found your unique power less potent against my son’s armor. I put certain wards on it that will deflect cold. Unfortunately, it seems that my effort was needless. You certainly won’t be scratching my children any time soon.” He drew still closer. “Now, before your puny life ends, I want you to know who it is who ended it. I find that fear makes my meals that much tastier.” His tentacles began to writhe as if caught in a storm.

In a voice like a storm, the monster spoke.

“I am Seracaani.”

My creative section was a 3-d map of Hawaii, made out of salt dough.

For my memorization section, I memorized the names and locations of the countries in Oceania.

Project #1: The Lord of the Rings

My first project was on The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.

Here's the writing section. It is a short story that takes place after the events of The Lord of the Rings:

The Black Wights of Rhûn

Inthir stared at the black canyon walls as he trudged over the stony ground. Three days ago every able-bodied man in Rhûn was called to a great battle with the Western Peoples of Gondor and Rohan. Igrimba had responded to the call reluctantly, as he was a rather fat merchant who would have happily spent his life counting his money and eating. Therefore, Inthir was the one leading the horse as his master sat on its back.

Unfortunately, the ground upon which he was currently walking was rather hard on the feet. The floor of the Screaming Rift was covered with jagged stones and hidden holes. That, coupled with the sourceless wails that echoed between the towering walls, served to make this stretch the most unpleasant part of our journey. Why these screams reverberated in the dark chasm was a mystery, but Captain Uzmahd and his soldiers attributed it to wind between rocks. There are darker superstitions, though. Some of the men murmured the story of the ancient kingdom that disappeared mysteriously from the Rift years before. They said that the spirits of the lost people were the source of the unearthly wails.

As was inevitable, Inthir caught his foot on a stray pebble and fell to the ground. He lay there, exhausted, as Igrimba shouted at him to get up. It wasn’t long before he felt the cold sting of the lash on his bare back. He slowly began to rise, and as he glanced to the side he saw a cold shadow flit between two rocks. When he looked back, there were only more black stones. They marched on.

By nightfall the company came to a wide clearing. They set up tents and tried their best to sleep despite the agonized screams rending the night. Inthir eventually ducked into his tent, which he shared with two other slaves of his master. Their names were Karm and Umar, and they had worked for Igrimba as long as he had. Karm was Igrimba’s most trusted servant and organized the master’s household. Umar was the cook and, on this journey, responsible for Igrimba’s possessions.

Luckily, the ghastly shrieks abated somewhat as the night wore on, and most of the company finally managed to sleep. At about midnight, Inthir was the only one awake. When he was sure the other slaves were asleep, he drew an old wooden sword hilt from his belt. It was slender and long, with a hole in the pommel and the remains of gold and mithril coating. Inthir didn’t remember who had given it to him, but he had had it as long as he could remember.

Suddenly footsteps sounded in the darkness outside. Inthir started and hid his treasure, then slowly made his way to the tent flap. Outside, a black form was grasping Igrimba’s wrist with a clawed hand. The creature had a stooped, shadowy body with no visible legs and a bleached skull for a face. It was staring at Igrimba with ghostly glowing eyes, cold as frost.

Inthir burst out with a cry, but never had a chance to draw the small hunting knife he carried in his belt. Turning from the fat merchant, the shadow swooped down on Inthir, catching his arm with a viselike grip. As those icy orbs stared into the slave’s eyes, he felt all hope drain from him, leaving him an empty, hollow shell. He found that he could do nothing but wait for the creature to command him.

Standing, slumped, he remembered the ancient tales of the barrow wights, dark spirits from ancient tombs who fed on the wills of others. Undoubtedly, these were the same. As he realized this, a cold shiver ran down his spine. For he remembered what the stories told of what the wights did with their captives. They were said to chain them with golden chains to a slab of marble, wrapping them in the stolen jewelry of fallen monarchs. It wasn’t long before the victim joined his captors as a skulking shade.

Dimly, Inthir registered the other slaves coming out to investigate his shouts. Straining to warn them, he could do nothing but look on as they were set upon by the black wight. Soon everyone in the camp was standing, entranced, near one of the black stone cliffs. Only one member wasn’t present.

Uzmahd stood a ways off, eyes squeezed shut and swinging a halberd blindly at two barrow wights stalking him. Each holding a long black knife, the shadows patiently waited for the captain to tire. When an opening presented itself, one of the two lashed out and plunged its knife into Uzmahd’s side. The Easterling party’s leader paled, then fell to the ground. The wights paid him no more mind.

Soon the three began to search their captives for anything that pleased them. When they came to me, they found nothing of worth, lingering for a short while with his sword hilt, but eventually dismissing it as useless. The same went for most of the other soldiers and slaves present.

However, once they arrived at Igrimba, two of the wights began to argue over a golden chain the merchant wore around his neck. The first monster, who went by the name of Xumhnogg, tried to snatch away the trinket before his brother, Xaxanogg. Glimpsing the necklace before it disappeared, Xaxanogg reached down and snatched it away. Soon they were rolling on the ground, swinging their black daggers at each other’s throats. Umar wasn’t able to get out of the way in time to avoid procuring a nasty scratch from Xaxanogg’s blade. As the fight escalated to a dangerous level, Ghashvagg, the third wight and apparently the leader, took the chain and hid it within his own shadowy cloak.

When the wights had taken all they wanted, the Easterlings were marched through dark passes into a black cave. Turning countless corners, they soon left the dim light of the moon behind, and around them was only shadow. As they walked, nameless things brushed past them in the dark, and sounds not heard by men who still live echoed across the endless blackness. Freezing gusts of wind rushed throughout the cavern, which Inthir realized were more wights. It was a thought as chilling as the breeze in the shadows.

It seemed like an age passed before they stopped walking. Standing in the darkness, Inthir heard a voice from the darkest pits of the earth speak. “It has been so long since my children have fed,” it whispered. But it was also shouting at the same time, in a voice both high and low. “Now we will feast on the bloody dreams of warriors,” it said with glee. “But first, let light reveal what is before them, so that their dreams may be all the darker.” A sourceless grey light permeated the cavern, allowing the soldiers to see the speaker.

It was a black form, draped in a cloak woven from shadow. Sitting on a throne at the far side of the large chamber, it was as large as the balrogs of legend, its face masked by a fanged skull the size of a man. As it spoke, a light that pierced like daggers of ice shone from its eyes and illuminated vast heaps of gold and jewels scattered throughout the huge room. “I am Xanzhagha, stalker of nightmares,” the colossal wight hissed. “and Noirilûn is my kingdom.”

Suddenly, Ghashvagg swooped down on a soldier at the end of the line. The man was dragged across of the room, unable to utter a sound, and disappeared into a shadowy opening. The men waited in the dim light, each fearing that he would be next. Just when they thought that they would be standing before Xanzhagha until the world ended, Ghashvagg glided out of the opening and fell upon the next man in line.

For hours they stood there, watching as, one by one, men they had known were swallowed up by darkness, never to return. Igrimba was taken along with the rest, and then only the three slaves were left. Swiftly, Ghashvagg bore down on Umar, but stopped when he saw the black scratch where Xaxanogg had nicked him. Speaking in a black tongue, he reported this to his king. The king responded in kind. Umar was pulled to a dark corner of the room, chained by both wrists to the wall. Finally it was Inthir’s turn.

He saw the shadow bearing down on him and braced himself for the end. As he closed his eyes a burst of white light shone in the dark space. Opening his eyes, he found Ghashvagg lying on the floor before him, a glowing white arrow protruding from his body. He and Karm spun around to find a tall warrior, an elf dressed in a shining white cloak, standing at the entrance to the throne room. He dropped his bow and quickly drew two silver daggers.

Xumhnogg and Xaxanogg, who had been waiting in the shadows, shrieked and began to circle the elf. Xanzhagha gave a piercing cry, and a host of wights descended on the cavern. Watching the black cloud descend on him, Inthir found that he could once again control his body. He reached down to grab his knife, but when he drew his hand out of his tunic, it was grasping the ancient hilt. As the first wight reached out to snare him once again, light shone in the cavern again, and a shining white blade had appeared on the hilt, carved with the word “Andúril”.

Without thinking, Inthir slashed at the incoming barrow wights with the white sword. Each one it touched exploded in a puff of smoke instantly. Turning to where the slave stood, the dagger-wielding elf saw the glowing blade and tossed one of the daggers into the body of Xumhnogg. The black wight fell, Xaxanogg wailing in lament. Swiftly the elf dashed towards Inthir.

However, he was not the only one who had noticed. Xanzhagha gave a roar when he glimpsed Andúril and pounced off of his throne. He rushed towards Inthir, shadows swirling around his body. Reaching out, he attempted to snag Inthir with a claw the size of one of his children. Instantly, the elf’s other dagger flew through the air and plunged into the barrow king’s hand. As he reeled back in pain, Inthir stabbed with Andúril and he shrieked, then dissipated until there was nothing but shadow in the room.

“Is he dead?” Inthir turned and found Karm standing behind him, quivering. In fear he 

had cowered in a corner during the battle. Looking past him, Inthir found the elf freeing Umar from his chains. “Who are you?” I asked. As he turned to face me, I saw that he had eyes like gold fire. “I am Celebaur,” he replied. “And you shall come with me.” So we left the throne room and entered the twisting maze of darkness ahead of us.

My creative section was a map of Middle Earth with important scenes from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion, all by Tolkien:

My memorization section was part of a poem by Tolkein, The Sea Bell.