The show is called Bite Me, and is distributed by Machinima on YouTube.

I’ll let the video speak for itself:

Click here for more episodes.

PDBAZ

Seres Genesis:

A Mexican sci-fi thriller, the first in a planned trilogy.

The Troll Hunter:

A Norwegian mockumentary about a possible conspiracy involving the giant trolls of Nordic folklore.

Rare Exports:

A Finnish thriller/comedy(?) featuring a not-so-jolly Santa Claus.

Ỳ̵̷̗̗͖͙̰̠ͅơ͉̼̮̰̭̠̮̳͖u̼̠̼̰̦͈̥͘’͔͙̤̘͈͍r͙͉͕̹͝e̘̫̞͕͓͜ ̥̹̼͓̜͈̣͝ͅw̭͍͠a̘̗̼̻̤͟ì̴̬͢t̪͖̬̪i͚̱̕n̢̯̹͘ͅg̨̥̱͍ ̴̼͖̖͉̞͈͉͜f̧̝̥̮̤̠͖̗̮o̴̸͏̝͇̻̰r̼̤̻̮̥̕ ̺͖͙̟̀͢á̶̠̮̱̖͙ ҉̯͙͙ṭ̹͍͕ŕ̯̻̣̜͎̫̪̣à̞̺̫̝͝i̶̦̺̻͙̯̼͟n̦͕̘͙̰̪.̷̸͙̬͚͎̪͈͇̲ ҉̴͔̹̳̻ ̧̬̺̦͉̭
̰̘̣̼̞̻͔ͅA̷̷̯̦͖͓̯ ̸̰̬̭̙́͟t̛̻͟r̶̶̝͈̣̠͕͚̗͚͡a̪̗i͙̮̕͡n̷͍̰̪ ̹͕͙̀́͠t̵̴̞̗̼̤̟̙̩͡h̘͍͚͠a̠̼̰̬̬͍t̸҉̞͉͕ ̤̭w͏̳̳́ị̧̛͎͈̙̘l̖̦͓l̹̲ ͍̘̣̗͇̝t̶̢̝͖̙̺̦̕a̮̭̥͔͎̦̪̼͜͟k̨̘͈̥̣̀è̪̜̱͍͉͠͠ ̧̢̲̝̼̪͈̩͙̞ͅy̙̦͙̘͔͘͝o̢̥̹̼u̧̦̞̤̘͕̻̣͟ ̷̟̹͙̱̖f̢͜͏̰̬̫̤ͅa҉̧̮͓̗̮̳r̵̷͍̭̹̯̫͇͢ ͏̷͉̮a̴̰̘͎̣͞w̘̘͢a̴̧̹͚͕̘̠͓y̖̲̪̲.͟͜ͅͅ ̳́ ̨̞͓̯
̜̺͖͖̘Y͜҉͈̱̬͎̭̮̟o̧̨̞͈̣̩͉̖̕u͓̹͚̻͙͍͞ ̟͕̮͉̥̻̩͓k̡̛̲̞͜n̴̵͍̜o̠͕̜͍̮̪̜w̭͙̖͖̙̲ ͏̝͎͘w̶̨̟̝̼̱̝̤h̵̞̰̙̗͇̲͠͝ͅe̶̤̬̫̹r̨̜̮͡e̷̛̬̫̻̹̫̙ ̴͍̻̗̱̪͇͓̪͝͞y͏̞̱̮̬͓͙̞͝o̝̺̘̙̲͉͞u̴͖͚ ̭͉͉̯̰̠̫͖̥h̵̺̥̦̻̳̱̪͡o̶̸̺͓̲̣ͅp̬͓̱̦̮̹̪̻͚̀͜e͉͙̣͓͈͓̠̩͙ ̛͉͈̪͙̕t̢̠͉͕̬̟̩̞̗͇h̷̜̼̞ͅe̵̹̤̕̕ ͈̣̲͉͈̪̮̤̺͝t̢͎̠̩͙̟͖͡r̘̗̱̣͢ạ̶̟̙͚́̕i̴̧̻̗͈̕n҉̠̗͙̖ ͔͇̦̗̣̙̕͝w͏̠͇i̡̗l͡͞҉̮̪l̹͚ͅ ̡̱̗̮̱̮̜̀͡t̸̴̖̳̪̕ạ̦̜̼̱̻͞ͅk̡̦̭̺͠e̸̛̥̠͚̹ ̡̹̖̦͞y̢̭͈̗̣̕ơ͇̠͟u̗̣̙͎̯͎͓̞̦͝͠,̛̙̳͓̕͞ ̲͞b̼u̩̪̖̕ͅt͖͙͔̼̩ͅ ̢̝͓̫̳̪̀y̺̫̼̖̰͎o̵̱̙̕u̱͔̭̻̩̦̥̗̩͜ ̧̢͖̗̝̺ͅc̴͇̩̺͇̯̼̝̝͚a̶̶̹̖͎̹͇ͅn҉̳͙͜’̛̯͎t͇̜͇ ̛̟͍͞b̷̨̙͉̬ẹ̜̰͉̰͞ͅ ̵̟̣͎̖̳͚͎͞ͅs̢̖̦̳̣̪͠ư̷̻͖̦̖̞r͏̰̗̼̰͕̠͟e̷̯̥͜.̸͉̫̪̼̰͙̻̟̕͢ ̮͚͔́ͅ ̵̴̧̠͖̠̳
҉̬̮͚͙͍̫̥̘͞ͅB̘̻͔̙͢͜ú̢̧̩̙̦̤̯t͖͔̹͝ ̩̟̠̯̟͠i͓t̗̼͙̰̪̞͟ ̵͖̙̩͝d̴̠̝o̞̟ͅe̥̰͈͚̹͜͟͟s̴̟͇̦̱̯n̡̺͇̗͝’̧̻̜̥̪͓̠̟t̶̲͈̪͡ ̸̫̹̥͇̩̹̜ͅm̛̪͉͍͎͠à̤̭͈͖̀t̜̳̕͟͝ţ̸̖̦͟e̡̼̯͔͚̲r̴̯͕͓̼̲͖͓͈͇͘ ̤̦̜́b̸̯e͖͙͔̰͡c̸̡̩͖̤̱̜̕ͅá͍͚͝u̧̮̮͓ś̢̬̼̳͚̘e̷̗̩̳͕ ̶͔͓w̲̻͢͡͡ȩ̴̨̙̺͔͉͕’̢̬̝͍̺͖̩͈̳͞l̟̪͍͇̰l̬͓̰̖͉̝̤̤ ̶̗̤͔͙̻̺͠͠b̸̪̺́e͠҉̟̰̗͝ ͘͟҉̬̬̯͚͖͙̩͙t̬̦̳̕͞ó̳͜͞ǵ̹̞̮̤͓̝́e̵͞͏̫͇̮t̳́͢h͚ͅͅe͉͙̦͞r҉̷̫͉̜͞

The Lake in the Desert

John was only 15 years old when he accidentally discovered another world in a parallel universe. This is his story.
“What is this place?” John said to himself. He had been walking for two hours in this strange ‘desert’. Walking since he had come out of the lake.
He had no clue as to where he was or exactly how he had got there, but he was determined to find help.
The strange thing about this ‘desert’ was that it wasn’t hot, in fact; it was actually quite chill. Not that he was cold or anything, he had enough clothes.
It was getting dark when John heard a galloping horse behind him. He turned around and saw a man with a medieval looking armour, riding a black horse. The man on the horse slowed down to a halt, and spoke: “Who are you, and what is your business in these lands?” John was too terrified to answer. “Speak, stranger, or you shall taste steel!” said the man, drawing his sword.”M-m-my name is John,” said John. “And I’m lost.”
“Very well, John,” said the horseman, sheathing his sword. “If I can, I shall help you. For I am Algirk, son of Thalbirk, royal knight of the kingdom of Ekirdron. But where is your homeland? I take it you are not from here,” said Algirk. “That’s right. I’m from Michigan, but I don’t know how to get there from here,” said John. “Hmm… I have not heard of this place. Maybe we should find shelter for the night, and you can tell me how you came here,” said Algirk. Algirk helped John up on his horse, and they set off for the town of Neggesyl. When they arrived, they found an inn, and since John had no money, Algirk paid for the rooms.

Next morning, during breakfast, John explained how he had run away from home in Michigan, and how he had fallen into a lake, and was sucked down: “And I couldn’t get to the surface, but suddenly, I was loose again and I swam to the surface. But I came up from that lake in the desert.” “Strange, ” said Algirk. “But stranger things have happened in these lands. I know a wise wizard, who lives two days’ ride north of here. Garion is his name, and he will know what to do.”

They went to get some food and clothes, before setting off to Garion’s.

Two days later, they arrived at the wizard’s house. He welcomed them, and made some tea while John and Algirk told him what had happened. “The logical choice would be to go back through the lake, but…” Garion was interrupted by John: “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!” “As I was saying when you interrupted me; that would be the logical choice, but I am afraid it is impossible. I know, for I have tried it myself.” “That’s just great! How will I get home now?” said John, angered. “There is a cave. A cave with strange runes carved around its entrance: Paros visstu Mor-Tarri.”

“Do you know what it means?” John asked. “Yes, it means: ‘to visit Shadow-World.’ It could be ‘Greed-World’ for the runes for shadow and greed are one and the same. Anyway. This is the entrance to your world.” said Garion. “Are you sure?” asked John. “I have seen it myself. I came up from a lake, and on my left, I saw another. The other lake leads to the one in the desert, outside Neggesyl.” “Well, then. What are we waiting for? Let us get this young lad home to his family!” said Algirk. Garion showed them the way to the cave entrance, and John said goodbye: “I’ll come back and visit you from time to time, if that’s all right with you guys?”
“Of course,” said Garion. “You are always welcome here.” Algirk said: “I shall look forward to seeing you again, John.” John stepped into the cave and vanished from sight. John soon realised that he was back in the lake, swimming toward the surface. He ran home to his parents, who were worried sick.
John never told anyone, except for his wife and children, about the parallel world he had visited, and the friends he had made there.

I really don’t know what that was. A very rough sketch of some bad Narnia fan fiction, without the Narnia name?
I.. Yeah. It was my first time writing fantasy fiction, and I think I did a pretty decent job, if you ignore Christopher Paolini, who wrote Eragon around the same age as the me who wrote this piece of crap.
I’m not going to analyze my 16 year old self, but I’ve learned a great deal since I was that boy.
I was a strange boy. A quiet loner.
I’m still the same person, only different.

***

Brand, sønn av Ib, er en av karakterene i en foreløpig navnløs historie jeg har begynt så smått på. Et utkast til en del av noe jeg ønsker å videreutvikle.

Den er foreløpig, og kommer antakeligvis til å ende opp, på engelsk, ettersom jeg føler at noen ting er lettere å uttrykke på engelsk.

Jeg valgte å oversette denne delen til norsk, for å se om jeg klarte å uttrykke det på morsmålet mitt.

Jeg er ikke hundre prosent fornøyd, men nå har jeg delt det med deg.