MortalPlague
11-05-2003, 08:01 AM
Since the last one seems to have stalled, I'm going to start up an unofficial one. Here goes.
Softly, the snow drifted down from above, spinning in circles as it came to rest softly on the icy crust which had formed across the courtyard. There was a stillness in the air that had settled like a blanket upon the stones of Do' Sher, and a silence that was broken only by the slight sound of a soft wind. The morning sun had risen high enough to brighten the eastern sky, and light the leeward side of the main wall. The icy shingles glimmered in the light, shimmering as water trickled down its length.
The stillness was shattered with a shout that travelled far in the silence, as Tarwin leaped over the edge of the wall and dropped hard onto the flagstones of the courtyard. He managed to keep his feet just barely, and his grip on the box he carried nearly failed. But he retained the black wooden chest, tucked it beneath one arm, and bolted off across the courtyard.
Instinctively, he leaped aside as a ball of flame smashed into the tiles beside him, showering him with masonry. Chunks of ice and rock pelted his cloaked backside, but he kept running, unfazed. He could hear the thud of boots approaching from behind, and the shouts of the various armsmen in pursuit. Brushing the blond hair from his eyes, Tarwin smirked, glancing over one shoulder. They wouldn't catch him; he was the best. And he always left with what he came for, wizards or no!
(Author's commentary - Not entirely satisfied with my writing, particularly the opening paragraph, but it'll suffice. Try to keep it in the fantasty genre.)
Softly, the snow drifted down from above, spinning in circles as it came to rest softly on the icy crust which had formed across the courtyard. There was a stillness in the air that had settled like a blanket upon the stones of Do' Sher, and a silence that was broken only by the slight sound of a soft wind. The morning sun had risen high enough to brighten the eastern sky, and light the leeward side of the main wall. The icy shingles glimmered in the light, shimmering as water trickled down its length.
The stillness was shattered with a shout that travelled far in the silence, as Tarwin leaped over the edge of the wall and dropped hard onto the flagstones of the courtyard. He managed to keep his feet just barely, and his grip on the box he carried nearly failed. But he retained the black wooden chest, tucked it beneath one arm, and bolted off across the courtyard.
Instinctively, he leaped aside as a ball of flame smashed into the tiles beside him, showering him with masonry. Chunks of ice and rock pelted his cloaked backside, but he kept running, unfazed. He could hear the thud of boots approaching from behind, and the shouts of the various armsmen in pursuit. Brushing the blond hair from his eyes, Tarwin smirked, glancing over one shoulder. They wouldn't catch him; he was the best. And he always left with what he came for, wizards or no!
(Author's commentary - Not entirely satisfied with my writing, particularly the opening paragraph, but it'll suffice. Try to keep it in the fantasty genre.)