Hey Folks!
Here is the revised trailer.
Take a peek, enjoy and comment if you'd like.

Cheers!
~Scotty





DISCLAIMER:
Some of the people in this revised trailer are no longer members of this effort. Their appearances and scant seconds of audio have been diminished and will eventually be replaced with newer footage. But all video and audio contained in these trailers were obtained while all individuals involved were operating as friends of the Dead Reckoning effort, members of the Dead Reckoning team, under the auspices of Dead Reckoning, filming for Dead Reckoning, and gathering evidence for Dead Reckoning all while working for the benefit of Dead Reckoning.

This newer, revised trailer was edited rather quickly for the purpose of a network meeting that fell on us rather suddenly. The use of older footage containing team members who are no longer part of this effort was out of necessity, but will eventually be replaced with newer footage.

How's that for a disclaimer and attempt to avoid drama and/or getting people's undies in a bunch?

I don't really have anything special to say, today. Nothing inspiring or profound is coursing from my brain, through my fingers and out onto my keyboard. However, when looking back over the last year's posts, I find that I have used my blog more to vent my frustrations and tilt with my demons, so I thought I'd take a few minutes to do something a little different and write about the things that inspire me....

I love coffee. It wakes me, makes me and takes me. It is the sweet harbinger of pre-dawn lucidity; that winged herald trumpeting contact with my synaptic sparks. It's bold, dark and brooding in it's murkiness, yet it's olfactoric tendrils fill my house with the caffeinated siren's song, tempting me, beckoning me to the rocky shoals of my cognisance. Sadly, I cannot drink the stuff the way I used to - like a good single malt highland scotch, it needs to be savored in moderate quantities, these days. But the sun never rises without me and my steamy brown friend in observance, my hand curled about the hot ceramic shoulders that bear the responsibility of dragging me into my day.

I love my wife. That could go without saying. But when I spend so much time loquaciously singing the praises of my morning brew, how could I relegate her to the realm of the silent obviate? I have always said that this woman will love me to my dying day - even if that death comes by her hand - and I am happier and better for having her in my life. It is she who makes me strive to overcome the demons of singularity and isolated nuptial omissiveness. She makes me considerate, despite my brooding moodiness so characteristic of my cluttered artist's mind. Oh, were that I were an engineer or a menial laborer who brought home the bacon after his hard eight-hour shift, eddying his way to retirement and the gold watch of 40 years behind the grinder! No... I am that frustrating creative sort who drops torn tidbits of bread as I loom my way through the woods, meandering her along behind as I look for that elusive fountain, that lusty adventure, that missing puzzle piece, the failure of trying and falling, trying and falling, trying and falling. And yet she loves me for it - despite it! She is certainly the Dreamer's touch point to reality, abiding my unshackled exploration of the next hill. I am lucky to have her.

My children are the passion of my heart. I am already beginning the grieving that has not yet arrived - that day in the not-too-distant future when my daughters will be gone from my care. I have raised them as best I could, instilled in them the things that I believe, challenged them with my grumpy daddiness, and prodded them to use their own minds and live by their own convictions. They are amazing people, my twin daughters, and I look forward to knowing them in the years to come as they create their own lives. Despite the unavoidable breaking of the parental bonds spurred on by their expanding desire to step into their own futures, they are still my little girls and I miss them every time they walk out the door. I long for their emancipation, but the burning in my eyes tells me I will miss the little squirrels who built blanket and pillow tents in my office and hung on my back while I made business calls at my desk, as ebullient in their play as i was oblivious to what most would have considered distraction. Those two little girls now nearly all grown up, are the focal point of who I have been for the last seventeen years. They have ridden the roller coaster of my life, and my only regret was that I didn't do better. My buoyancy in life is inextricably linked to loving them, despite my shortcomings as a dad, and my failure at perfection. They are the lights of my life.

My son and my as-of-yet unborn child are the refresher courses, the here's-your-chance-to-do-it-over-and-get-it-rights. And I have much more to say on that,but there is no more time this morning.

It is time for another cup o' joe, and time for sinking myself into the work that is waiting like a leashed dog ready to break free at my door.

Until later....

I have three swords for sale, immediately. They are fine mastered replica swords that have been used for stage combat and costume use. However, they are made of steel and fine workmanship that would have made them masterpieces of weaponry in their historical day.









BASKET HILTED SCOTTISH BACKSWORD - $950


This sword has a replica blade, handle and pommel, but the basket is original to the mid-1740s. Note the pockmarking in the steel. It also bears a "Crown & Cypher" seal at the top of the basket, as well as what we think was a military stock number.









GERMAN RAPIER - $700

This thrusting rapier has a stiff narrow blade with a single fuller extending from the forte approximately 12 inches. The guard is of an early form with a post and arm at the base of the hilt arms, instead of the more usual ring. The elements of the guard and pommel are highlighted by raised acanthus leaf designs. The grip is wire bound with turksheads top and bottom.
You can see this very same sword at www.armor.com, the official website of Arms & Armor.








NORTHERN ITALIAN RAPIER - $650

This is a classic replica Northern Italian Rapier from the last quarter of the 16th century. This elegant hilt is crafted in steel with three sweeping bars, bisected with discs at the mid-line of the fore guard. The blade is a period-style practice blade constructed of 6150 steel and tempered. It has the distinctive forged button tip seen on original practice blades (which, if you look closely in the shot of the wall-mounted swords, can be clearly seen). These were sometimes referred to as "nails," for obvious reasons.








Call Scotty at (715) 792-2335 or (715) 307-1174

scotty@taverntent.com

When forty (eight) winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2_GdCiQ2Sg




Here is our teaser/trailer/"sizzle" reel for Dead Reckoning!