Essays, Stories, Poetry..

[wesaynothin]

There are a few threads for poetry already, but what about a thread for short stories, essays, whatever? If you have a good story that you made up, put it up here. If you found something cool on the internet, share it here!

 

I'll start out with a story I wrote. It was for a school project, so the ending is a bit rushed....

 

 

 

!!~(*^^!~-=!=-~!^^*)~!!

 

 

 

 

Blue Moon[/size=7]

 

Blue Moon was once a thriving jungle environment which can now only be seen in the cities’ atriums. The city covers the whole moon now. Blue Moon was the third colonized moon of it’s planet. Now there are five moons colonized, each one part of the same sickening pattern. Ravage a moon, deplete it’s resources, then move to another one. There are only three moons left to colonize, then we will have to move to the next planet and it’s moons. We would colonize the planets of course, if the atmospheres weren’t full of carbon monoxide and creatures willing to bite off your head as fast as hug you. Let me stop with the details for a moment and introduce myself. I am Naus, a raider.

No, I don’t go around in a longboat and pillage villages. I’m a bounty hunter. I’m not sure why they call us raiders, they just do. It may be because we bounty hunters used to go around in groups and bust up large criminal rings in the old days. We don’t anymore though. Actually, you’re more likely to meet a raider working for a ring than going against one. I myself work for the Blue Moon syndicate, a group that specializes in illegal arms smuggling. The syndicate I work for is one of the larger ones, and usually at war with at least one of the other planets’ syndicates. The best way to describe the major syndicates would be to say we were like one of the gangs in those old noir films, except without all of the good guy cops busting in on us. It’s actually rare to find a cop who isn’t on our payroll in this dirty city.

The city seems to always envelope all thoughts. It drains all the energy from anything that is not thinking about it. It’s almost a living being itself. It seems to soak up light and grow filth out of it’s alleys. There are more and more thugs every day. The misery is inescapable. You want to leave, you want to break away, but you can’t. Whenever you see a ship taking off to another moon you wish you were on it. But then you remember you aren’t and think about how the city keeps you closed in. Let’s try to break the constant thinking about the city. I’ll tell you what my job is at the moment. I gotta go down to the residential quarter and pick up some empty ground to air (G.T.A.) missile shells someone is making in their backyard. We have a deal with him, one shell for one grand. Why so expensive? Because the bloody cops are enforcing a new martial law. Cops now have free reign to break into your house and search, or take, anything they want without a warrant.

Now, I know I just said that most cops are on our payroll. Most are, but some still aren’t. They might be on another rings payroll, or working freelance for rings. This situation hinders the effectiveness of police actions of course, because the different police groups often break out into large skirmishes. Every once in a while you can see a cop helicopter raining lead onto cop squads.

Have I said I hate this city?

 

“Parking Parking Parking Parking Parking <------“ one of the floating signs is flashing at me. I turn my flyer toward the direction the sign is pointing and park. My flyer is a piece of junk, but it’s a classic; an old racer outfitted with two semi-automatics on each wing. It has a sleek base frame, which fits one person. The good thing about it is it’s fast and agile. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m a good pilot, so my flyer and I make a good team. I jump out of the flyer and walk to the elevator leading down to the ground. The elevator button flashes. A flash means that the power has gone out in the block, and no electronics can be used. This seems to happen every time I want to take an elevator. Now I have to walk down the 23 stories from the floating parking platform, as usual.

“Hey man.. Spare some change?”

“I’ll work for food!”

“Disabled and homeless, please help!”

These are the slums of the city. There are more people living on the streets than in the homes, and the homes are packed tight. It is estimated eighty-million people are living in the slums, not counting all the homeless. This is quite a comparison to the manor quarter, where there are at least ten square acres between each plot of owned land, and each piece of owned land is at least twenty acres.

I checked the dirty address plate next to the building with peeling red paint. ‘664'. I knocked on the door, and a voice came from the other side.

“What?”

“I’m here for the shipment. Let me in.” I replied. The door opened, and a short stocky man appeared.

“Follow me.” He coughed out, and started walking to the back of the old house. I followed him. We passed through a small hall, a small living room, and an even smaller kitchen, to a small backyard, littered with shells.

“You don’t try to hide them?” I asked him.

“There’s no reason. Everyone on the block does this. If anyone alerts the cops about someone making shells, he, and the rest of the block, would probably be arrested..” he answered in his scratchy voice. I took my pack off of my back and dropped it on the ground. I pulled out of it a bag, and emptied the bags contents. Twenty rolls of money fell out. The man smiled, then started helping me pack shells into my bag. Once I got the twenty shells, I started back to the platform.

“Hey man.. Spare some change?”

“Work for food.”

“Disabled and homeless, please help.”

I heard the same pleading as I walked back. Up the stairs, onto the platform. Got in my flyer and lifted off, and headed east. As always, straight into the setting sun, blinded by its dirty rays, licking the sky before extinguishing itself for ten hours. The engine hummed slowly as I glided back toward the manor quarter. That’s where our ‘operations’ take place. Did you really think that a major syndicate would work in the slums? You probably did, admit it. Most do actually, which makes it A LOT harder for cops to find us, if they are searching in the wrong quarter altogether. I would have liked to stop at the commercial quarter, I need to pick up some groceries, but I think a man walking around with a bag full of shells would be suspicious. So I fly right over the quarter. Fly over the river separating quarters, then into the Manor quarter. I fly over acre upon acre of houses, parks, and well kept roads. Soon I see the large fifty acres leading to a white-washed house. I settle my flyer down between some trees and jump out. As soon as I am on the ground I see twenty men with automatics running towards me.

“It’s fine! It’s just me! I have the shipment!” I yell at them. They stop and look me over, then part for me. I walk up to the front doors and open them, letting the cool of the indoors A/C wash over me, a nice difference from the average 90˚ weather. I walk up through the main hall, and up the grand staircase, both a facade. I make an immediate right into an open door, and cough. There are two beltway’s, each going opposite ways, in the room. At least twenty people ar milling around, making gunpowder, building shells, and making inventory. I throw the shells into a crate and mark them off on a chalkboard sitting next to the crate.

“Ey’, Naus! E got a job for yau!” A voice called from behind. I turned around and laughed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” I joked at Lars. He glared at me.

“Six moonths, and evyun tinks I dead. A sydicoot can tak a maan back, y’no.” The man said in his odd accent.

“Yeah yeah. What is it?”

“I need ya toa hed over to red orizon. Pick op a shipment o butles. Eet seems de Soons End Sydiccot ow’s oof em too y’no. Yur gona have sum truble, eh?” He told me. Off to Red Horizon to pick up some Bottles. And, of course, if there are some bottles out, everyone’s gonna want them.

No, I’m not talking about the stuff that water goes in. Bottles are highly destructive bombs. They are made up of Hydrogen, Cyanide, and Arsenic. They are shaped in large metal, bottle like, containers. Each element is separated by an extremely thick piece of metal, and within each cavity is a mini gravity field, so the three elements don’t collide. If you lay one, no matter how small, explosive on the bottle, the whole thing will explode. The gravity fields will distort the gravity in the area, and send the explosion, and the poisons, everywhere. A truly awesome weapon in power and destruction.

Red horizon is the current scum of the five moons. No bigger than 100 square miles, it somehow fits over fifty million people on it. Each foot is filled with filth, vermin, and disease. The police force is almost nothing, and crime runs rampant. The perfect place to manufacture bottles.

“Eet’s alredy beeen pad faor. Jost git et bak ‘ere.” Lars said, turning his back on me and walking away.

* * *

The carrier is much to bulky for my comfort. Not to mention I’m carrying my flyer within it, so if it gets blown so does the flyer. Not to mention soon I will be carrying bottles, so if even one flyer comes against me I’m gone. Immediately in front of me, A small planet is appearing.

 

* * *

 

I stepped out of the carrier and coughed. The dirty air almost choked me. The sky was a greasy grey, and the streets were no different. The thinning atmosphere didn’t protect the sun’s rays, to the point where you could almost see the heat waves lifting off the road. Hanging from an apartments balcony is a body. It seems to be a cops.

“Well, that makes my job a bit easier.” I mumble to myself, and strike out. It’s hard not to stumble over the bodies lying on the sidewalk. Some grunt and shake fists at me, others just stay limp.

‘Big building, looks like an electric plant. There should be guards patrolling the fence, just show them the card I gave you. Ask the people to help you load the bottles, or they won’t, and you do not want to lug them out yourself. Name of the place is Exerox.’ The letter Lars gave me read. Lucky for me, the main of the block I was on looked like electric plants with guards patrolling the fences. Finally I got to a building with a sign that read ‘Exerox’. At the gate a man stopped me.

“Whaddya want?” He asked gruffly. I flashes my card at him, and he glared at me suspiciously.

“Come on then, follow me.” The guard cooled down, then headed towards the main building. I followed him briskly, and caught up easily. As we passed through the doors to the building, I almost coughed again. I don’t know how, but the interior of the building was worse than the exterior. One could see the smoke collecting at the ceiling, and small puddles of oil were thrown around. I tried to remember the route we took, but lost myself quickly. Right, right, left, left, right, left, left, left, straight, straight, right, right, lost. As we progressed, the rooms became grimier and grimier. I actually believe I saw blood smeared in one room. The thickness of the smoke became more and more dense. I can barely see three feet ahead of me, my eyes trying to pierce through the inky brown. Now I am sure of it, blood is covering the walls. All I can sense is that we are heading down. Down down down. I don’t know why I say ‘we’, I don’t think the guard is with me anywhere. The gentle humming from machines in rooms behind walls is slightly annoying me now. The smoke is becoming more and mor unbearable. What is going on?

 

* * *

 

“So Lars, I guess we can’t trust you. You would actually betray your friend to the labyrinth that is Exerox? This is not a man to be trusted.” The man in the shadow groaned.

“Wha? You tol mae too! You said I culdn’t come back unlees I deed!” Lars yelled, now noticing the men coming out of the shadows, surrounding him.

“Yes, we did. How can we trust a man who would sacrifice a friend for money? You could turn against us.” The man in the shadows said, groaning again. Lars heard the ‘click, click’ of shoes heading away from him, and the ‘click’ of a gun being cocked.

“No...” Lars spewed the words out of his mouth, falling to the ground, a puddle of blood forming at the back of his neck.

[Kethruch]

I started writing this when I was bored a long time ago. Let me know if you like it and if you want more. I have a couple of things like this.

 

I.

The Farm

 

"Why?" came the small voice from behind her. Ildunya of Fairreach had heard the question a million times before, and, just as before, calmly turned to the seven year old child behind her and answered.

"Why what, dear?"

"Why do the flowers bloom only when it's warm?"

"Because they know that if they bloom when it's cold, they'll die."

"Why will they die?" came the anticipated response. Ildunya got down on one knee and looked into the innocent green eyes of her son.

"Because they can't survive in the cold. You know how you get so upset in the winter after your bath, especially when the fire goes out? The flowers are the same way. When they bloom, it's like they've taken their clothes off. Without that protection, they just shrivel up and die."

"Why do things have to die?"

That was a question Ildunya had successfully avoided answering the many times that it had been asked. "Because they must," she said. "Now, how about we go to the market and get some things for dinner." If she maneuvered him carefully enough, she might be able to get out of actually answering the question again. The ploy seemed to work, as the young boy ran quickly to put his shoes on to go for a walk.

The town market was only a half-hour's walk from their cottage, but the walk was usually enough to wear Caeleth down. Then, perhaps, she could get a little peace for a while. Caeleth was a good boy, but, she had to play the part of both mother and father to the boy, and it seemed as though the boy could know just when to get her at the worst times. On these walks to town, however, Caeleth was distracted by the many sights and sounds of the world around him, and she could relax at least a little bit.

On this particular day, the wind was calm, and the sun was warm, and all of the summer flowers were showing off to one another, as if each knew that it was the prettiest flower anywhere. Ildunya looked at some of them quickly as they went by, but didn't stop, fearing a repeat of the questions of earlier in the day. At the edge of town, they passed the house of Caeleth's best friend, Doroth Embarsson. Doroth was a couple of years older than Caeleth, and, like all of the other children, towered over him.

"Mommie?" Caeleth asked.

"What Caeleth?"

"Can I play with Doroth?"

"Maybe on the way home, dear." She would welcome his playing with his friend, but she wasn't sure if Doroth's mother and father would say the same. It was hard being an unwed mother. It was hard on her and it was hard on Caeleth, though he really didn't see it yet. To him, the world was a wondrous place, full of adventures and goodness wherever he turned. The townspeople were polite enough about it, but it was obvious that they would rather she and Caeleth move somewhere else.

When they finally reached the market, Ildunya set about getting the things that they needed from a number of merchants. She overpaid for many of them, but that too was the price of single motherhood. The widow Mander was treated with reverence and respect, and she had two children, one of them after her husband was killed, but that hadn't seemed to have changed how people thought about her. There were times that she could just scream, but she kept on smiling, returning the mistrust and hatred that others displayed to her with that quiet smile that could calm an earthquake.

At the center of the market was a large area where a number of the children were playing. Caeleth always enjoyed playing with the others, even though Ildunya felt that they teased him and tried to deliberately hurt his feelings. The difference, she knew, in how the townspeople treated her and the way the children treated Caeleth was that she was being punished for an action, while children just picked on anything that was able to be picked on.

She stopped her shopping for a while to stand and watch him as he ran around with the others. She knew most of them, and knew that they were mostly around Caeleth's age. Even so, she was amazed at how big they looked, how strong they were when compared to Caeleth's small, thin frame. After a few minutes, a boy even larger than the rest joined in the playing. This was Doroth, and, with his arrival, she knew that Caeleth would be safe.

Ildunya went back to shopping, though the pickings were pretty slim. It soon became obvious that she was not going to be able to get everything on her list. When she asked about certain items, she got the same answer over and over again. "Ever since the good king of Skift died, the trade between them and us just hasn't been the same. I wish that king Ragar would do something about it, but he apparently doesn't want to seem to bold." This was the answer from just about every merchant , as if they had all gotten together and practiced it. The message was clear, however, there were certain things that she was not going to be able to get.

Fairreach was a small town, and everybody knew everybody else fairly well. There was Kor, the tinker, who liked his ale perhaps a little too much, Borob the tailor, who could tell stories with the best of them, Arren the horse handler, who very rarely had horses, but often had ladies - she always wondered about that. Why was it considered fine for him to run around with a different woman on his arm each month, but she was being ostracized for a single encounter? It bothered her, but she, as all ladies in the land, knew that it was not their place to question such things out loud, they just were.

There was also the widow Mander, whose husband was killed in a skirmish between Arakal and a neighboring barony, and the smith Zambor, who never seemed to get out of sorts with anybody and whose wife made the best meat pies for miles around. She thought for a moment and laughed to herself - here she was categorizing all of the others, and she was complaining about how they thought of her. She wondered for a second just how they categorized her. Ildunya the angel, who did a little sewing on the side. Ildunya the seamstress and her male without a father son, who seemed to be retarded as well. She quickly turned her thought from the subject - it was all right for her to have self-pity, but she didn't want to involve Caeleth in her anger. Besides, she often told herself, she knew something that none of the others did.

It hadn't always been this way. Ildunya was once considered a beauty, and a great catch at that. She had taken over her father's business after he and her mother had died during the Great Sickness. She had enjoyed all of the attention that the young men had given her , and at eighteen, was ripe to be wed. For some reason nothing ever worked out, though. She had been betrothed twice, just to have something horrid happen to the two men before they could wed. One died in an avalanche, the other in an Orc raid. Both of them had been nice, and she missed them. After the second had died, however, fewer and fewer came calling, and the rumor had gotten around that she was cursed to live her life alone, with great harm to come to any who would try to get close to her. Even then, though, the townspeople weren't mean to her. That all started after Caeleth was born., but they didn't have to know anything about that, so she never told anyone

Her thought was broken by a screech from the play area. She was so used to her son being involved, she rushed to the area without thinking about it. When she arrived, she saw Merian, a raven haired little girl who liked to make everyone think that she was a good little girl and that everything always happened to her for no reason at all, crying her eyes out and holding her knee. There was already a couple of adults around her telling her that it would be all right, but she just continued crying and pointing at Caeleth. "He kicked me," she said between sobs. "He kicked me in the knee and I was just standing there."

Ildunya looked at Caeleth, who was sporting numerous fresh cuts and bruises. She went over to him, and he smiled at her, as if to say that everything was going to be all right. "Get your little monster out of here!" one of the mothers, she wasn't quite sure which one, yelled. "We don't need the trouble that follows him around rubbing off on our kids."

"He's just like his mother," another one said, "nothing but trouble."

Ildunya was used to this. She asked Merian what happened.

"I was just standing there and he came over and kicked me," she sobbed.

"Were you doing anything to him?"

"No, why?"

"Where did he get all of these scrapes?" Ildunya asked very pointedly.

"What are you trying to insinuate," asked Jearan, Merian's mother. "Are you saying that it was my little precious' fault that she got kicked? We all know how your kind works. You always try to shift the blame from ..."

"Just a moment," Ildunya cut in, her hackles starting to rise. "Are you telling me that I am somehow different than you? Exactly where and what do you think is so different about me?"

"Excuse me," Doroth interjected. "I saw the whole thing. Ma'am, " he said, turning to Jearan, "Merian was pulling Caeleth's hair, and then , when he didn't cry out, she got a bunch of the other boys to pile on him and beat him up. I tried to help him, but she tripped me and got a bunch of boys to hit me, too. When they finally let him up, he went over and kicked her in the knee."

"There," Jearan said, "He kicked her and she didn't do anything to him. Your son is a monster."

Ildunya looked at Doroth's mother for support, but it was obvious that none was coming. She also saw how pointless it would be to try to convince Jearan of anything that she didn't want to believe about her little girl. "Come on, Caeleth," she said. "Let's go home and get you washed up. I'm finished with my shopping."

As she and Caeleth left the area, she could barely overhear Jearan tell the other mothers "There, do you need any more proof that what we've been fearing is true? That retarded boy shouldn't be allowed to corrupt our children. How old is he now, seven, eight? He looks as though he's about five at most. Can you imagine what he might have done if he were bigger? All he can think about is hurting others. Merian, you are not to have anything to do with that monster."

"I wish they would just shut up," Ildunya said sharply.

"Why do you hate them, mommie?" Caeleth asked, his eyes turned upward toward his mother.

"I don't hate them," she started to say, but those penetrating eyes forced her to see the truth. "Oh, Caeleth," she continued. "It's not really that I hate them, but it's the way they act towards us. I guess that you're just too young and innocent to understand."

"Not everybody's the same, are they Mommie?"

"No, Caeleth, everybody's different."

"Then why do you get so upset when other people say we're different? I mean, we are, aren't we?"

Ildunya looked at Caeleth, completely dumbfounded. She sort of skitched and hemmed and hawed, and tried to come up with the proper answer.

"We are, Caeleth, but, so is everyone else," she started slowly. "It's not the fact that we're different that should upset them, but it does. People are often willing to overlook most differences, for example, that Doroth is so much bigger than everyone else, but they almost need someone to feel better than so that their own egos can be eased." She wasn't really happy with the answer, but, she hoped, it would quiet him down for a little bit. "Would you like to go to Eldra's and help him feed the pigs and cows?" she asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Okay," he replied flatly. "Sometimes the pigs and cows seem not to care who does what, as long as they get fed. Why aren't people more like pigs and cows?"

Ildunya laughed, and bent over and hugged her son. "Because sometimes people aren't as smart as pigs and cows." she said, squishing him against her body. "Don't you want to go to the farm?," she asked, noting the tone of his voice, "we'll take the ferry," she added, and instantly his face broke out in a huge smile.

Eldra's farm was on the other side of the river from where Ildunya and Caeleth lived. Caeleth knew the way well, and often came up with just about any excuse possible to go there. Ildunya found herself having to make up reasons why they couldn't go every time that Caeleth wanted to. The real reason was money. There were only two ways to cross the Arnot. One was a bridge that was all of the way on the south side of town. The other was the ferry just a short ways from their house. The bridge was free, but it would take over an hour to walk to the farm, and then another hour to walk back. Ildunya rarely had that kind of time to spend, so they usually took the ferry. The ferry cost a copper piece per head to cross, and money was very tight lately. She had been trying to work something out with Bert the Ferryman, but thus far they hadn't been able to agree to anything.

The ferry was a large raft with a railing built on the edges. There was a rope as big around as Ildunya's arm that stretched the 200 yards of the river and was anchored in two huge trees, one on each side of the river. At the front and rear of the raft were two huge iron fittings that the rope ran through. Caeleth loved playing on the raft, jumping up and down and feeling the spray of the water that came up over the edge when the wind was high. Ildunya always feared somewhat for his safety, but, thus far, he seemed to know just how far to go.

"Morning, Ma'am," Bert said as the ferry butted up against the dock. "Can I be givin' you a lift 'cross?"

"Yes, Bert, thank you, as always."

As soon as they were on the raft, Bert began to pull on the rope, slowly dragging them across the river.

"How are you this fine afternoon," he said, not breaking the steady rhythm that he set up. Looking down at Caeleth, he continued, "Goin' over t' the farm?"

Caeleth nodded his head enthusiastically. "Mommie must be having a bad day, this time it's her idea."

Bert laughed, and winked at Ildunya. "I think your secret's out, M'lady. He's a bright lad, I think you're prob'ly in for a rough few years."

In a few minutes, they were over to the other side. Ildunya thanked Bert, gave him his two coppers, and called for Caeleth, who was looking at some of the stones at the edge of the river. She was relieved to see that he had managed to stay dry during the crossing. Caeleth, hearing his mother call his name, spun, lost his footing a little bit, and fell face first into the edge of the river. Bert instantly broke out laughing, and, even though it was all that Ildunya could do to keep from doing the same, gave Bert and Caeleth stern looks. Caeleth stood up and came over to Ildunya, and gave her a big hug. Bert, who had almost stopped laughing, instantly doubled over again when Caeleth let her go, revealing a wonderful patch of fresh river mud from her shins to her hips. Caeleth looked up at his mother with a twinkle in his eye, and Ildunya, completely disarmed by the small child's playful stare, hugged him again to her, then proceeded with him up the path to the farm.

As they crossed over the last hill and Eldra's farm came into view, Caeleth gave a squeal of joy and ran down to the pens where the cows and pigs were kept. A man was there, doing the chores, and he waved at Ildunya and Caeleth as they came down the path.

"Errak!" Caeleth yelled. "Can I help with the pigs?"

"Of course," came the reply. "It wouldn't be the same without you. Good day, Milady," he said, nodding to Ildunya.

"Good day, Errak," she replied. "What are you doing home? The last I heard you were off fighting in the war."

"I didn't have too much luck," Errak said, turning to show that he had lost his right leg, and had a crutch upon which he rested. "It could be worse, though," he continued, but his eyes and his tone both were filled with sadness, no matter how hard he was trying to keep smiling.

"Is your mother in?" she asked.

"I think she's in the root cellar."

"Can you watch Caeleth for a while? Unless, that is, he would be too much trouble."

"It would be my pleasure,"

[Faust870]

This is something i wrote for a contest, NOTE...it did end, but im going to make this a novel or something,... so i started adding more on... enjoy

 

The Night Attack

 

It was early in the morning and Laars was being shook awake, he slowly opened his eyes and saw his mother.

“What?” asked Laars irritably.

“You have to get out of here.” responded his mother with a slight note of panic in her voice.

Laars is a fairly young man, around the age of fifteen. He has shaggy black hair and blue eyes. He is of medium height and wears a simple brown tunic.

His mother, Marin, is the age of thirty-five, she has long midnight black hair with a slight wave in it. She was a little taller than Laars and usually wears simple house dresses.

“What is the matter?” asked Laars dumbly

“I said let’s get out of here!” shouted Marin

Laars knew that he should just do as he was told; he quickly jumped out of bed and stripped out of his night clothes and put on a brown tunic. He watched as his mother left the room and he thought that it would be best to follow.

Considering Laars was the age of fifteen, he usually liked to test his mother like most young men and women do, normally, he would just sit around until his mother gave him something to do, like on any other day, if he saw his mother leaving the room, after giving him something to do, he would just sit on the end of his bed and wait for his mother to yell at him. However, today was not one of those days.

Laars looked out the window quickly and noticed that the sun had not even come over the horizon yet. Laars could hear people shouting, he than quickly ran downstairs.

“Mom, some people are outside, they sound quite angry” told Laars.

“ I am quite aware of that” responded his mother with a calm voice. “Now be quite, and make sure no one hears you.” She ducked and walked past the window.

Without knowing exactly why, he copied her movements; they made their way into the living quarters, Marin walked over the couch and pushed it aside, revealing a trap door.

Laars went to say something but Marin held a finger to her lips. She looked out the window, and so did Laars, he could see shadows outside; he noticed that some people were carrying touches. He turned back to the trapdoor and saw that his mother had already opened it.

“Laars listen to me, for I cannot repeat what I am going to say because we do not have the time.” Ordered his mother in a quite voice

Laars listened with extreme concentration

“When you go though the trapdoor, you will see a long narrow tunnel, I need you to follow the tunnel, at the end of it where will be a ladder leading upwards, at the top there will be another trapdoor.” She stopped and looked back at the window, a rock went flying through it, shattering the window completely. “Open the trap door, it may be heavy because there is hay on top, once you get though there you will find that you are in the stables.” She looked back at the window.

Laars could have sworn that he heard the word ‘witch’ but he wasn’t sure.

Marin muttered, “Witchcraft and sorcery is different, why can’t they get that though their thick skulls.”

Laars could just make out what she said, and it extremely puzzled him.

“When you enter the stables there will be a sword and a scabbard on the wall, you may have seen it before” explained his mother

Laars nodded.

“Take the sword and also take Anthriel and ride as hard as you can to Balkt, I will meet you there tomorrow.” She tossed him a small bag of gold. “Stay at the inn that is near the entrance gates, also use a different name. Go, now!”

Laars climbed down the ladder and found himself in a tunnel, with touches along the walls.

“Make sure you extinguish the touches as you move along” ordered Marin. “I love you dear”

“I love you too Mother” responded Laars. With that his mother closed the trapdoor, Laars could hear scraping, he figured his mother was pushing the couch back across the trapdoor. Laars ran down the tunnel placing the caps on the touches putting the flame out. When he reached the end he glanced back and saw only darkness. He climbed the ladder and struggled with the trapdoor, when he finally got it open, he was in the stables.

“Hey Anthriel, we have quite the ride ahead of us.” Laars told the horse. He quickly stoked the side of the horses head, and than placed the saddle on its back. He patted the horse, and than went to open the stable doors. He quickly glanced out and saw half a dozen men running towards the stables.

Laars ran back and grabbed the sword and scabbard; he placed the sword in the scabbard and attached it onto his belt. He quickly hopped on Anthriel and kicked the horse’s side; the horse began to trot out of the stables. Laars could hear shouts such as “There he is” and “Get him” but he just ignored them and went west.

Around early afternoon, Laars finally made it to Balkt, two guards at the front gates asked him his name

“My name…my name is Grant, may I ask why you needed to know my name” said Laars trying not to sound suspicious.

“We need to ask, King Balind, is looking for a young man named Laars, he should be accompanied by a witch named Marin.” Said the closest guard to him.

“A witch?” asked Laars. “What do you mean by the term witch?”

“There is no definition needed, young lad, best you be on your way.”

Laars nodded at the guard and continued on until he found the Inn that his mother way talking about. The things he had heard that day really confused him, from at least two people, he had heard the word witch, and directing it to his mother.

“That’ll be two gold pieces” said the bartender.

Laars looked up, “Oh sorry” he handed the bartender the gold and took his drink and sat down at an empty table. He slowly sipped on his drink thinking about the things that have happened.

Laars woke up, when there was a knock on the door, “Come in”

A very pretty maid walked in. “In case you are wondering where you are, one of the guests carried you up here, you fell asleep at a table”

Laars went to his gold bag, to pay for the room.

“Oh, I almost forgot, the guest also paid for this room” said the maid happily

“Is the guest still here, I would like to thank him.” Asked Laars

“No, the guest left early this morning”

The maid smiled and walked out, she later returned with breakfast and than left again. There was a knock at the door, and than the door opened, a person entered with a gray cloak around them.

“Hello, how may I help you?” asked Laars nervously

The person in the cloak slowly unwrapped it and he saw it was his mother

“Mother!” cried Laars

“Shh, I don’t want anyone to know that I am here” she ordered

“What has been going on?” asked Laars “I have heard people calling you a witch, and than I could have sworn I thought you said that sorcery and witchcraft was different”

“What you have been hearing about me being a witch is false” told Marin

Laars let out a sigh of relief but than Marin said something else

“Witchcraft and sorcery is different, very different, I am a sorceress.”

Laars was shocked, “You a-are a s-sorce-eress?”

“I think I said that quite clearly”

“How come you have never told me this before?” shouted Laars

“You never asked” Responded Marin is her soft calm voice.

Laars didn’t know what to say, he just stood there dumb baffled, mouth wide open.

“Close your mouth before you start drooling all over yourself.” Marin told him.

Laars did as he was told, he than turned his back on Marin and walked over to the window and just stood there, he saw that the sun was sitting high in the sky, and a flock of birds flying in a V were heading south

“Is it almost winter?” asked Laars, trying to change the subject about sorcery.

“Yes, in a month or so, the snow will start falling.” Responded Marin “We really should be on our way, I have to have a little talk with King Balind, he seems to have something against me at the moment, and I would like to know what it is”

As soon as Laars finished eating, him and Marin went to the kingdom; Marin was wrapped up in her cloak with the hood over her head.

“Laars, you are going to have to talk to the guard at the entrance to the castle, tell him that you are a messenger from Lord Yalm, he doesn’t really exist but just sound convincing, all else shall fall into place.” His mother told him seriously.

When they got to the castle gates, a man with a pike stopped them. “Halt! What business do you have at the castle?”

“Kind guard, my name is Grant, I am a messenger of Lord Yalm.” Responded Laars

“So who is this?” the guard asked pointing to Marin

“I am Kileam, a royal knight of Lord Yalm, I am to assist the boy” Marin responded, Laars could tell that Marin disguised her voice to sound like a man, and it worked quite well.

“Very well, I will let you pass” the guard moved over and opened the door.

The insides of the castle were quite dull, and had very little light; they followed the main hallway until they reached the throne room. Marin knocked hardly on the door.

A young woman opened the door. “How may I help you?”

Marin looked at the woman and said in her male voice “I am Kileam, I assist this young boy he is a messenger of Lord Yalm, he needs to speak to the King”

“Very well, please come inside” she told them opening the door wider so Marin and Laars could enter. When they entered there was a table set in the middle and the king sat in his oversized chair.

“Hello Grant, what is the message that you have for me?” asked the King in a deep rumbling voice.

Laars opened his mouth about to say something, but Marin cut it in “I am Kileam, I am set to assist this young boy, and what he has to say is extremely important, I would like to ask your young maid to leave the room”

“I think we can do that” the king looked at the maid. “You can leave, get two of my guards to stand at the door, also I think it would be wise to tell them that if any of them eavesdrop that I will have their heads.”

Without a word, the maid bowed, and left the room.

“Now, I think we have something to talk about Balind” Marin said with her voice back to normal. She took lowed the hood to the cloak that she was wearing.

The King gasped and pointed a threatening finger at Marin “Witch…you have no reason to be here”

Looked at the King and laughed “I have a very good reason to be here, it seems that I have a ransom on my head”

“Guards!” Balind shouted

Marin waved her hand at the doors, and Laars swore he could hear a click.

“The door seems to be locked sire” said one of the guards from the other side of the door.

“You know you can’t get away with this” threatened the King

“I already have” smirked Marin

Laars didn’t know what to think or what to do he just stood there mouth wide open.

“Laars, what did I tell you about that?”

“That is Laars? How dare you bring him in here as well, we do not allow witches or witches children in the village.”

“When are you going to get it?” asked Marin as she shook her head at the King

“When am I going to get what?” asked the King dumbly

“That witchcraft and sorcery is different, I am a sorceress, not a witch. Witches use materials for their spells, were as sorcery comes from everything around you, all of the energy from the ground, trees, oceans, animals, even from yourself.”

The King just made a grunting noise. “I do not allow any type of hocus pocus in my village”

Marin grinned, “Than perhaps you can tell me what Gileam the Seerer is doing here?”

The King frowned “How do you know about Gileam?”

“Anyone that uses, I guess we will call it ‘magic’ is attached in someway” Marin explained, “We can all feel each others presence, unless we fog our minds, but we can’t go around doing that constantly.” She waved her hand again and the door unlocked, and two men-at-arms entered.

“Your majesty, shall we remove these two” one the guards asked

“At once” the guard replied

Marin made a fancy gesture in the air and the guards’ swords flew out of their hands and stabbed into the ceiling.

“Sorcery!” exclaimed one of the guards

“At least someone knows the difference” chuckled Marin “Now back to why I have a price on my head” she said in a very serious voice.

“I have had word that you have killed many of my men” the King explained

“You should know that I rarely kill anyone, unless I really have to, as you can see, I could have simply killed both of your guards here, but I decided just to disarm them”

“For that we thank you ma’am” said both of the guards.

Marin smiled. “There has been some disturbances around my property, but I just erase their minds, and the go traveling wherever. I don’t have any control of where they go, they just can’t remember who they are, or what they are doing, the spell usually wears of in a month or two, than they should shake it off, and find their way back to the village unharmed. Unless something had happened to them, but I didn’t do it”

“If you placed the spell on them, and they died, in a way you did have something to do with their deaths, and for that I hold you responsible.” Balind looked at his guards, “Take them away”

The guards moved forward “Sorry, but you have to come with us”

“Actually, I don’t have to go with anyone, I am going to go my own way” replied Marin. She looked at Laars “Dear, draw your sword please”

Laars totally forgot about his sword he unsheathed the sword and held it tightly in front of himself. “Mother, I do not have any skills in sword fighting”

The King laughed evilly, “Why would you have a boy draw his sword, when he doesn’t even know how to use it.”

The two guards went over to a table and reached underneath it and pulled out two swords.

“Now we get to watch your son die, and so do you” Balind smirked “This will truly be a show to remember”

The two guards held their swords in front of them and walked about.

Marin made another gesture and Laars suddenly felt different, it was like he was learning things that he has never learned before. All of a sudden he found himself walking around, he was also twirling his sword in his hand.

“Stop that this instant” shouted the King with a note of panic in his voice

“I don’t think I can” replied Marin

One of the guards lashed out at Laars, but he easily avoided it as if it was nothing, he did a quick counterattack hitting the guard’s sword arm.

The guard moaned with pain. The other guard quickly jumped to his friend’s side, and a fire burned in his eyes. He moved around with catlike speed, as he jumped back and forth trying to confuse Laars.

Laars mimicked the guard and jumped in the air and kicked the guard in the stomach.

The guard fell back in holding his stomach. He than stood up and slashed out at Laars, but Laars was to fast and he jumped back and kicked the sword right out of his attackers hands. As the sword began to fall, Laars caught it.

“Mother, do I have to kill either of these pathetic men?” asked Laars

“I will leave the decision up to you, but there isn’t any need too.” She replied in her soft voice. “Now, Balind, I think that you should leave me and my family alone. We have done nothing to you, like I said before, your men will return in a couple of weeks. If you send any more men after me, perhaps I will have them killed. For now me and Laars are going to Kifla, I have to tend to my mother, she is very sick and the Queen of Kifla isn’t helping, I have feelings that there are assassins and thieves trying to kill her and I have to put a stop to it.”

“But…Isn’t, the Queen of Kifla a…w-witch”? Stuttered Balind

“Wow, your aren’t as incompetent as I thought, you may actually know the difference between Witchcraft and Sorcery. But yes, Grenta is a witch.”

With Marin turned around, and walked out of the throne room. Laars followed close behind. Marin walked out of the castle without even glancing around; she had a type of radiance to her that Laars never really noticed before, almost like a faint blue aura. He made a quick mental note to ask her about that later.

[Faust870]

Ok, heres another one, now i wrote this 2 years ago, and than i didnt like adding converstation, so instead, the characters laugh a lot lol...dont blame me! IT WAS 2 Years ago people!! :P...lol...and also i used "Nazarath" or something like that, and it actually has something to do with Jesus, but i didnt know that...sicne im not religious, so dont get upset or anything please!!

 

It all started on warm foggy, rainy day, and the year was, well, it was before time actually existed. Roland the Holy Knight Templar was ordered by the King himself to search out the haunted woods of Nazorath. Now Roland wasn’t just a normal knight, I tell you he was a magnificent person, and a skilled warrior. He had long black hair, he was 6‘ 1’’, and so you can tell that he wasn’t a short man. He had a rough face but still handsome. He was quite muscular but not ripped. You could often find Roland on his great white horse, if I can remember correctly Anthriel was the horses name, but it was so long ago it is hard to remember.

 

Roland had been a Holy Knight Templar for many years, but I do not think that a single knight of any kind could take on some of the challenges that awaited in the Woods of Nazorath. Roland wasn’t one to decline such a quest, if I was to tell you now what happened to him, than it wouldn’t be much of a story now would it? Well back to the story.

When the King told Roland to search out the haunted Woods of Nazorath he was actually quite shocked but at the same time he was actually quite eager. The King told Roland that there had been word that a great sleeping dragon had been sleeping there for many years, and beyond that dragon there was told to be a magnificent treasure. You may be thinking of a treasure of gold and jewelry, I am sorry to say, it is not that type of treasure, I will not spoil the story by telling you the type of treasure it is, do not worry, you will find out soon enough.

 

Roland walked outside after confronting the King; he rubbed the side of Anthriel softly, than he mounted the horse. He kicked the side of his horse and it began to trot. They slowly left the kingdom and headed for the Woods of Nazorath. It was going to be a good two-day trip by horse to get there though. They hadn’t been going for anymore than an hour when Roland heard yelling. Roland looked around but saw nothing. Now let me tell you this, there aren’t many people to be found or seen out of the Kingdom unless it was near by the castle walls. Roland new something was up, he dismounted his horse and placed his left hand on the sheath of his great sword. Every knight names his sword and in this case, Roland named his sword after his father, Hadriel. His sword was great indeed, its hilt was filled with diamonds and had a rather large blocker on it. The blade was large and sharp and in the middle of the blade was the name Hadriel engraved in it. There I go rambling on again, back to the story. Roland saw something out of the corner of his eye; he turned, but only to see a small rabbit. He laughed and walked back over to his horse, but not to soon to hear more yelling and small creatures running over the hilltop. Roland unsheathed Hadriel and twirled it around in his fingertips. When the creatures got closer he realized what they were, they were imps! Now Roland knew that imps were not something to be scared of, imps were magical creatures, rather skilled in fire. Roland pulled the shield out of the bag that was on his horse. He kneeled to the ground and held the shield in front of himself so that it covered his whole body. Now let me tell you that if Roland delayed in doing this, there would be nothing left of him other than a pair of smoking greaves. All at once at least 15 fire bolts hit his shield than sizzled dead. Roland than quickly stood up held the sword outward behind him and charged at the imps. He quickly slashed at them one by one; the imps were a clean creature to kill, for when you killed them they did not leave behind a body or blood. They just simply turned into a small pile of ashes. After slaying all of the imps he walked back to his horse laughing slightly, he sheathed his sword and placed the shield back in his bag on the back of his horse. Roland than rubbed the horse’s mane and shook his head laughing and thinking on how such an easy battle that was. He remounted his horse and kicked the sides of the horse gently and Anthriel began to walk slowly. It would be pointless of me to go on until nightfall because nothing at all happened other than the fight with the imps, Roland and Anthriel just enjoyed the countryside view. I really must stop this rambling, back to the story.

 

The sun had gone down and the moon was high in the night sky. It was fairly clear out with the stars twinkling high overhead. He thought it was a good time to rest. He dismounted his horse and took the pack off of it. He told Anthriel to stay where he was, Roland walked off in to the darkness and came back shortly after with a bundle of firewood in his arms. He walked over to a clear area and dumped the firewood to the side. He had found some light kindling, he made a small pile and began to rub two sticks together, a spark jumped down on to the kindling and it ignited. He than placed some wood onto the fire and after a short period of time the wood caught and it began to burn steadily. He opened the pack that was once on Anthriel’s back and pulled out some blankets. He placed them down by the fire for himself. He laid down and fell asleep with out much difficultly.

 

Roland slept well through out the night. All of a sudden something shook Roland, he quickly opened his eyes only to see a man with a long beard and ropes standing over top of him. Roland stood up quickly and than lowered his hand to the hilt of his sword and asked the man whom he was. The man introduced himself, if I remember correctly, as Faust. The man had a thick gray beard, he was no older than 60 and no younger than 50. He wore greenish-gray robes that covered him from shoulders to toes, he wore sandals, and he bore a long gnarled staff. Now from the description I gave you, you could probably tell that Faust is a wizard. Faust was a man that had neither home nor a family. He was a traveling man; he had no one to tell him what to do or how to do it. They talked for a while I cannot remember the length of time, but the sun was high in the sky so I shall guess around 12pm in our modern time. Roland explained to Faust that he was sent by the King to search out the treasure in the haunted woods of Nazorath. Faust seemed to like that idea and asked Roland if he minded if he accompanied him. Roland thought that it would be a great idea because who knew the troubles that he would run into.

 

Anthriel gave a quiet sigh because no one was paying attention to him. Roland looked over at Anthriel and laughed. He turned back to Faust and told him that that was his horse, Anthriel. Faust stood up and walked over to the horse and patted it gently. Roland stood up and told Faust that they should get going. They walked over to Anthriel, and Roland mounted the horse. Roland than reached out his hand for Faust to take, Faust took his hand and Roland pulled him up behind him. Roland kicked Anthriel slightly in the side and the horse began to trot. It was a nice steady ride; Roland and Faust talked for a while than took a break and just enjoyed the scenery. When they went over yet another hill, (and let me tell you there are a lot of hills in this particular countryside.) Faust pointed out the fire off in the distance. Roland kicked Anthriel hardily and the horse started galloping quickly.

 

It took 5 minutes until they reached what was burning; they found out that it was a town. Roland thought that it was the imps; until out of nowhere there was a loud screeching and flapping of wings. Faust looked up and noticed a reddish-green dragon. Roland quickly dismounted his horse and unsheathed his sword and than pulled his shield off of the back of Anthriel. He kneeled just like he had done when the imps attacked him. Faust dismounted the horse as well, he muttered a few ancient words and than a blue translucent orb formed around himself, Anthriel and Roland. Roland asked what this strange oddity was and Faust explained that it was called an energy shield, it was matter so tightly packed that it was nearly impossible to penetrate. The dragon continued to fly over head shooting large fireballs at the village burning the roofs of the houses that were all made out of hay and easy to ignite. Faust made a whistling noise and the dragon quickly turned his head and looked to where the noise came from. The dragon quickly screeched and then flew over to them. The dragon blew an extremely large fireball out of his mouth and it hit the shield, the shield absorbed the shot and flashed a bright blue colour than went back to normal. Roland laughed, and than asked how long this shield would keep up. Faust replied by telling him that it would stay up as long as Faust gave it his full attention.

 

Roland ran though the blue shield, and kneeled with his shield protecting him. Now I must say when Roland ran though the energy shield it was one of the weirdest feelings that one could feel. It was very cold and eerie. Roland stood there for a second and than shook his head, he noticed a wall that surrounded the town, and he quickly ran over to it and ducked from sight. The dragon didn’t even notice that Roland had left the energy shield. Roland looked around for something to throw at the dragon. He noticed a small rock lying on the ground. He picked it up and tossed it around in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He than stood up and threw the rock at the dragon. The dragon than quickly turned and noticed Roland, than Roland took his shield and held it in front of him waiting for the dragon to attack. The dragon didn’t do anything, so Roland peaked over the top of the shield and realized that the dragon was lowering itself to the ground. Roland liked this idea very much, he smirked slightly and than lowered his shield and held is sword outward in front of him. He charged at the dragon and than slashed at it, he hit it successfully across the dragons’ chest; the dragon gave a deafening screech and then without any warning, the dragon quickly slashed Roland in the face with its massive talons. Now let me tell you that a dragon as big as this one is, could have easily taken off Roland’s head, but luckily for Roland he was farther back so he did not take the full blow of the attack. Roland placed his hand to his face and as he did so his face burned in three different locations. He removed his hand from his face and than looked at it. He saw the blood and laughed.

 

Faust just gave up on the energy shield considering the fact that the dragon wasn’t even paying attention to Anthriel and himself anyway. When the shield was let down, Anthriel gave a slight sigh, and got up and walked over to a tree and just stood there. Now I’m going to tell you that Anthriel was one of the smartest horses around, he knew when to help and when to stay out, and the dragon was a little bit out of his league. Faust raised his staff and muttered something, I can’t quite remember what it was exactly, but a large greenish-yellow orb appeared at the top of his gnarled staff. Than Faust lowered his staff and pointed it at the dragon, Roland realized that Faust was going to do something so he quickly moved back and allowed Faust do what he was about to do. Out of the very end of Faust’s staff a large continuous beamed emerged and flew right for the dragon; the dragon didn’t even notice that this large beam was aimed right for it. The beam hit the dragon where Roland slashed it with his sword. The dragon screeched extremely loud. The beam seemed to grow and grow, and the sound of the dragon’s screech seemed to get louder and louder. Faust than pointed his staff away from the dragon and the ever-growing beam seemed to disappear out of sight. The dragon was still standing there but it wasn’t moving. The dragon seemed almost lifeless; Roland walked over to the dragon and hit it with his sword, the dragon didn’t even flinch. So Roland walked over to Faust and asked him what happened to the dragon and than Faust responded by telling him that it’s a stun attack, and that it would be fine in a few hours. Roland just laughed and walked over to Anthriel and mounted him, he reached his hand out for Faust to get on, and Faust took his hand and got up.

 

They just talked about the dragon and the one that may be waiting when they reach the woods. As they were riding they found a nice little area were they thought they should just stop and rest, and spend the night. They set up camp and built a fire. It didn’t take them long to fall asleep after what they had to though. Roland and Faust were very lucky that they were not attacked in the night considering the fact that they are extremely close to the woods. They awoke actually quite early in the morning and had some eggs that they found in an eagle’s nest that was close to where they camped. After they all ate they got on the back of Anthriel and started for the woods that was right over the few hills they would soon be approaching.

 

Nobody has ever seen the woods except for the great explorer Flink Talabastor. There were ancient scrolls that explain of such woods that were haunted, and protected by a sleeping dragon named Nazorath.

 

They were now going over the last hill that would over look the forest. They reached the top and saw green that reached farther than the eye could see. Both Roland and Faust laughed simultaneously, and than Roland kicked Anthriel quite hard in the side, and the horse began to gallop.

 

They reached the base of the forest in about 30 minutes with out any difficulties. Now as some of you readers may think that this forest is black and eerie inside, well sorry to break it to you, its actually quite nice looking inside, sunlight glares though the tree leaves, and there were actually quite a few paths in the forest as well. Roland told Anthriel to slow down and they started to walk slowly. The forest looked far too peaceful for anything to be in it like a dragon. They thought that after the dragon that they already fought, they could take anything, especially a sleeping one.

 

They got to what they think half way though the woods, but from what they saw from the top of the hill they were nowhere close. Faust kept thinking that he heard a small rumbling noise. Roland just said that he was dreaming or that he was hearing things. Now Faust being a wizard, he pays attention a lot better than a knight does. Faust would tell Roland to turn certain ways and go on different paths and most of the time Roland usually would turn but than there was the odd time when Roland just ignored Faust and kept going the way they were.

 

They were getting quite eager to find the treasure, if there even was one. Just when Roland and Faust were about to give up they noticed that when they stood still they could feel the earth tremble. They both felt it so now Roland believed what Faust was telling him all this time. They kept on walking following the tremble. The tremble was coming from what ever was around the bend, when they reached it they realized that the tales were true.

 

There was an old sleeping dragon with his body inside of a cave all except for his head. The trembling came from the dragon’s heavy deep snores. Roland than told Anthriel to stay behind the bend, concealed from sight. Roland and Faust slowly crept over to the dragon and looked inside of the cave. There must have been a hole somewhere in the roof of the cave because in the middle of cave (Behind Nazorath) there was a small pillar with a whitish-green egg sitting on top of it with light shining directly on it. Roland held his arm at Faust’s chest and told him to stay there.

 

Roland than realized that if he was careful enough he could make his was around the sleeping dragon with out waking him it up. So than he entered the cave and snuck around the sleeping dragon. He managed to get around it with out stepping or even bumping into the dragon. Even though he came very close several times. He tiptoed his way over to the pillar and noticed that the egg he saw was a dragon’s egg. Now I’ll tell you this before I continue on with the story, dragon eggs were extremely rare. They sold for a lot of money plus there was no way to tame a dragon unless you had it from the time that it hatched. He rubbed his hands and than placed them on the dragons egg and lifted it off the pillar. As soon as he moved from over top of the pillar he realized that there was a small hole which the egg sat on when it rested on the pillar. When the light hit the tiny hole, the dragon snorted. His tail started to move slowly and than swung fiercely. Roland muttered something under his breath that I do not think I should repeat. Faust than yelled into the cave for Roland to get out of the cave as fast as his legs would carry him. But what Faust didn’t know is that, no matter what Roland did he was pretty much stuck because there was no other way to exit the cave. Faust muttered some fancy ancient words and shot several small ice bolts at the dragon, the dragon tired to breath fire, but it couldn’t for two reasons, it was extremely old, and for something that has been sleeping for ages and don’t forget about its snoring, you would tend to loose certain skills like that, Faust than laughed because he thought that it would be simple enough with out a fire breathing dragon to deal with. Roland unsheathed his sword and swung aimlessly and hit the dragon’s tail severing it in half, the dragon’s blood sprayed on Roland’s face. The dragon opened his mouth to screech but nothing came out. Roland thought of a way to get out since the dragon didn’t seem to want to budge, Roland didn’t want to do what he was about to because it is very grotesque but it’s a part of the story so I must say it.

 

Roland walked over to the back end of the dragon, slashed at it with his sword, severing it deeply, than he slashed again this time downwards creating an X shape in the dragons rear. Roland sheathed his sword and than took his hands and spread apart the back end of the dragon.

 

Roland than took one foot and than placed it inside of the dragons rear. Than took his other foot and placed it inside. Now for those of you that have never been inside of a dragon, there are no words that could explain the smell and texture. The dragons’ insides were huge. Roland had to unsheathe his sword and cut his way though. The odd thing is the dragon was still alive. Roland didn’t know if he was going to vomit or pass out, but he knew that one of the two were coming. He started to slash his way though still holding the dragon egg in his right hand. He than turned to the side of the dragons stomach and slashed out at it, making a hole so light could get in and some fresh air.

 

From this point I have to say that the dragon was dead because at some point when Roland was slashing around he punctured the dragons heart. Faust had no idea what happened to the dragon because one minute it was attacking franticly and the next it just died. But Faust’s questions were answered when he saw a head poke out of the dragons stomach. He laughed and than walked over to the dragon and ripped open the dragons stomach making blood leak out like a small stream. When Roland got out of the dragons insides he walked over to the caves wall, he than placed one hand on the wall and the other on his thigh, his head was hung down and than he began to vomit. Faust just stood there laughing.

 

When Roland was done he laughed as well and than showed Faust the egg. Faust knew what it was but he was still quite shocked that he actually found one, since not many did because of there rarity. Roland, and Faust, rode Anthriel back to the castle.

 

Now I can’t really say that they all lived happily ever after, because no one lives happily ever after, but I can tell you that Faust left Roland and made his way back on his travels, Roland got dubbed, so now he was named Sir Roland. The King also paid him quite a fair amount of money for his deeds. Anthriel is still with Roland and will be till the day one of them dies. Now that is the end of my story, and Roland went on many other adventures but they are all different tales and all to be told on different days.