News

News: I moved the keyboard to my room and now I feel strongly inclined to tell the world that I adore Phantom of the Opera. Everything is perfectly normal and no, I don't have access to any secret underground labyrinth...yet.

--12 August 2017 --

Quote: Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest of hearts. --Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

The Fellowship

May 7, 2010

Writing Game #2

Yes, I can see you're so very exuberant! It's the writing game and it's back! This time, I'm hoping to give you a bit of a test...it'll be harder because you only have one choice; the writing style is a bit harder and you have to start off writing where it'll feel everything should end. Don't give up just yet! Your efforts might be worth more than you think ;)


Danny shrugged and slid his sword back into its old sheath. By the word old, he meant more like ancient. The thick leather had cracked and the metal gave a dull gleam. He would have appeared to be a lost boy looking for his mother in the woods, had any stranger come upon him at that moment. They would never realize his status with the Dark King. They would never leave that grove of trees alive. Assassin for evil, the words tickled his mind. Did he care? Right now, he struggled with his own life. His soul. My path is so wrong, he thought to himself. He knew of the blood that lapped in his wake; usually he couldn't care less, but now, for some odd reason, he cared.

He looked up at the sky, which peeked through the branches of the trees. He curled into a ball, wanting to hide under the roots of the trees. It's after me, he thought, the light is after me and it's going to get me. He could do nothing. It's my destiny. He broke down and sobbed. Everyone had to face the light and now his turn had come.

Squeaks.

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