News: My thoughts are clouds I cannot fathom into pastries.

--1 June 2018--

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

October 10, 2010

Winners of the Green Giveaway

Congratulations to all of you who participated in the Green Giveaway! You all did amazingly awesome jobs! announce the winners!

First, I will explain who wrote which piece and the ratings for those pieces (note: if you didn't get any ratings, don't worry! You still did a great job and your effort counts)

First Place: "Strange Utterings" by Nichole White; received 8 votes

Second Place: "The Mark of the Star" by Liz P.; received 7 votes

Third Place: "A Lonely Sail" by Lady Greenleaf; received 2 votes

Third Place: "The Maker Made It" by Jake; received 2 votes

Fourth Place: "Outcasts" by Icewolf; received 1 vote

Fourth Place: "Running Red" by Whisper ; received 1 vote

Fifth Place: "Fire" by Dakota L.; received 0 votes

Great job guys! I'm right well proud of you all for giving this a go!

So Nichole and Liz, you both can claim your prizes XD

Nichole, I'll put up a page of advertising for you; let me know what you want or if you have something already written up just email it to me and I'll post it. Also, you get to write 3 guest posts :)

Liz, great job! You get to write 1 guest post :)

All guest posts must be submitted to me by the end of November. And both of your names will be placed on the news section of my blog :)

Now for something *special*; I received another entry but it was too late for me to add it to the contestant ranks when I received it. So, I promised the writer that I would publish his work when the winners names were announced. Therefore, please welcome to the stage: Gillian!

Shadow of Death

Death hung upon the air.  Marya could feel it, could see it in the eyes of the silently weeping villagers as they marched slowly past her, down the steep rocky path to the shore.  Death was coming.  Strangely, Marya found that she did not feel afraid, only horribly listlessly indifferent.  Death took all sooner or later.  On leaden feet, she turned, joining the long procession on the dreaded march to the Rahedhenaur.   
The mournful crowd gradually swelled, filing silently into the grim black circle and waiting in trembling rows for the arrival of the serpent.  Fear darkened every face. Mothers clasped children tightly to their sides, fathers whispered farewells to sons and daughters, young wives clung desperately to their husbands’ arms.  Marya had seen it all many times before, but the sight was none the less horrible and heart rending for its familiarity.  Why?  Why must this happen?  She clenched her hands tightly at her sides as she took her place alone, set apart from the others, always an outcast.
She felt a movement by her side and turned to see the stranger standing only a few paces away.  Something about him held her gaze.  He stood erect; tall, straight, and strong in the midst of the cringing crowd.  Not a hint of fear or terror darkened his green eyes.  Peace radiated from him like heat from a fire on a cold winter’s day.  And like one kneeling beside a fire, Marya felt warmed by his presence.

The storm intensified.  Darkness grew, reaching out to grasp the Island in its deadly hands.  With a deep, rumbling roar, the serpent’s head thrust upwards out of the Loch.  A spray of cold water shot into the air and fell back with a noise like thunder.  Wails broke out among the people on the shore as the serpent’s long armored neck snaked upwards and his vicious head towered high over them.  Water dripped from his gleaming teeth and splashed down onto the rocky shore.  A vengeful fire burned in his cruel eyes as his relentless gaze turned upon the mass huddled within the circle of stones.  Marya shuddered at the sight of the serpent’s deformed hands, a pair of sharp taloned claws with webbed fingers, small in comparison to the rest of his monstrous body, but hideously strong.  Choking black smoke exhaled from his nostrils settling upon the Rahedhenaur like a cloud.  The stranger’s words leapt into Marya’s mind.  “the breath of the serpent… a poisoned mist… For centuries, the villagers have lived in this mist, dwelling in the serpent’s darkness, daily breathing in the poison of the his breath, with the memory of the kingdom gradually fading from their minds.”  Marya fought the urge to clasp her hand across her nose and mouth.

Death.  Death.  The all too familiar beat of the drums began, heralding the arrival of the Tribunal to the Rahedhenaur.  The swaying procession of black robes and white masks slowly wove through the crowd and across the circle towards the beach, halting at last upon the edge of the Loch.  Maddrel stepped forward, and prostrated himself before the serpent, bowing his ancient head down to the ground.  At once Bjorn lifted the sea horn to his lips and blew a long echoing blast.  As one the assembled villagers dropped to their knees, heads bowed and hands lifted in silent supplication.  For one moment, Marya hesitated.  In that moment, a hundred thoughts spun quickly through her mind: thoughts of mother and father standing firm to the death; of the stranger and the truth that shone from his eyes, of the king and his promise...  Then she caught a glimpse of the serpent’s heavy burning gaze turning slowly towards her, and instantly her courage failed her.  She sank to her knees and bowed her head in submission.  A thousand reproaches settled around her, screaming at her, blaming her for her fear and cowardice.  What…have I done?  But even as the guilt laid hold of her heart, a second thought rose to the forefront.  It doesn’t matter.  I don’t even know if the King does exist, and what if he does?  We are no better off for it; still a forgotten people on an accursed island, waiting for death to strike.

That's all for now folks! G'night! Oh right, and Happy Thanksgiving! (hehe, we Canadian's get to celebrate earlier than you lol! *yum; rubs tummy* turkey and stuffing suuuure are good!)

Signed with a full tum tum,



  1. Congratulations to the winners! Awesome job everyone! :)

  2. Hey, fourth isn't so bad! ;D One vote is good enough for me! Personally, I would have been surprised if Strange Utterings didn't win, it was EPIC

  3. Thanks Icewolf. I actually was surprised though. I thought "The Mark of the Star" was going to get it; it was amazing!

    Gillian: wow! I wish your piece had been entered... I really do. That was so moving! It was just... it was chilling, emotional, stirring with truth yet filled with hidden fear. I loved it!



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