Garras Agudas
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2002
- Posts
- 130
This is an invitation to write to a fantasy entitled "A Sword, a Ring and a Scroll"
A peice locked in no set time period, perhaps not in this world, but one hopefully that will pique your interest and imagination.
PM me if you are interested and with your thoughts as to the character you've chosen and how they will work into the story. I'll reply with how your ideas work and as to wether we can work it into the existing story.
Thank You
^^^^^^^^^
<><><><><><><><>
A sword, a ring and a scroll.
Darkness had come to the kingdom. Darkness in the form of death and despair. And with its cold presence it brought the downfall of the bright kingdom and it’s king. Death visited the old and wise king savagely, tearing his still beating heart out and waving it before his dying eyes.
“I will curse your three fair children. Drive all the love and gentleness from them, then turn them on each other and watch them destroy this world and each other.” He promised the kings fading eyes, barely hearing the wizened leaders final words and ignoring the prophesy in them.
“You may curse the living, but not even your power can reach to those not yet born”
And from that day forward, when death walked from the great castles with the children clamoring under his arms, the once great and good kingdom began to crumble. A final hand of death was dealt, striking out at a handsome woman and leaving her fatally wounded, watching her children being carried into the darkness.
In the farthest directions of the compass death spread the children, moving from the east to the cold lands of the west, then to the burning sands of the south before turning and depositing the final twisted yet oh so young child on the north isle. And in front of them all the lands of the east burned, the great castles set ablaze by death as he passed, killing nearly all who tried to fight those fires and adding their bodies to the inferno, making it a funeral pyre of the living and the dead. And those children grew, as beautiful in body as they were ugly in their twisted souls. Left behind to die the woman fought for the lives of two, her own and the one inside her, refusing to let the darkness overtake her and waiting for help to come. Morning came and with the sun of the day a robed man as well, his gray beard and hair in contrast to the youthful step he walked with, his twinkling eyes showing energy and intelligence in them.
“You are Marian and need my help.” He stated simply, gathering the badly wounded woman easily in his arms and carrying her away. His gait never faltering the miles faded beneath his sandaled feet and it seemed that quickly he gently laid her on a simple yet well-made bed in his home. Along the way he had taken the time to study her, admiring the calm beauty of her face, the courage in the way she bore her pain silently, even when the first throes of child birth assaulted her already weakened body. He knew what was about to happen, it was written in the ancient tablets he had studied, and the prophecies were about to come true.
“I will help you birth your son, and then save you if the gods will it as well” He spoke again, gathering rags, water and a solid length of hard oak. And then it began, the birthing of the man child, Marian’s courage once again put to the test, wave after wave of pain washing over her as she pushed with determination, her will the sole driving force that she had left. Long seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours and she refused to weaken until finally with a triumphant cry her child was brought into their world.
“Let me hold him before I die” Her weak words begged the tall, silent man who stooped to give her the precious bundle swathed in rags. His face showed awe and sadness over what he had just witnessed, replaced by a look of determination and resolve.
“Here is your man child” He replied softly, kneeling next to her as she held him to her breast. “Hold him and rest, for you will need all you can steal to care for him in the morn when you wake” His words surprised them both, himself for though a short sentence it was the longest he had spoken in years, her for the sure way he spoke as if he would will her to live.
“Are you that sure I am to live? Are you the giver of life and the taker of it as well?” She asked gently, no malice intended in the questioning words, her gaze drawn to the young man that suckled at her breast already.
“My brother you have already met, he is the taker of life and is called simply…death” He replied solemnly, watching the child feet hungrily and then raising his eyes from her bosom to her eyes as he finished. “I am the keeper of life and will stay by your side as long as you wish me to, tonight and many nights to come as well. As for the giver of life? She was our sister until my brother struck her down…a crime which he has yet to pay for”
The tall mans hand gently stroked the woman’s hair, soothing her and relaxing her as the child finished feeding and cuddled contentedly, both mother and child drifting into a healing sleep. And as they slept the man watched, drawing from a fold in his robes a small emerald bottle that shined in the dim interior…opening it and tilting it carefully over Marion’s lips, watching the honey like liquid drip to her parted lips and into them. And as she swallowed in her sleep he repeated the process, giving the remainder and the lions portion to the young sleeping man, begging his forgiveness…”I cannot let her die, my lord…Forgive me now and then a second time, when you face …HIM”
And as he promised she lived. Lived to see the morning, her wounds healed, her pain gone miraculously, even those from her giving birth to her son…and as her eyes opened she spoke to the figure that knelt the entire night beside her, never sleeping…
“I have woken as you foretold and as I slept I have dreamt of my son and his future and a name for him…I will call him…”
“Avenir” The tall man answered for her, making her eyebrows arch in surprise before she nodded slowly, the word taken from her lips by him. “It means “future” in your homelands language, does it not?”
Marian once again nodded, questions forming in her mind as to who this man was and why he had found her as if it were preplanned. But could it be? She chided herself for being a foolish woman but was determined to find out the whom if not the why…
“Am I healed as well, then?” She asked softly, cuddling the squirming bundle as it wakened and sought instinctively her breast, baring it before the unashamed man beside her. “Will I live to care for my son and see the dreams come true?”
For the first time the man smiled and it seemed to magically remove 20 years from his face as he answered carefully. “Your dreams are predictions of the future as how it might be. Accurate predictions if the goddess fate wills them to be, but she is a fickle goddess at times. I will have a talk with her from time to time and perhaps we can place ourselves on her good side.”
Marian returned the smile, content for the moment as she nursed her son; his future and hers were now in the hands of this man she did not know. Hands she believed were strong and fair but capable of unspeakable acts if provoked and she was determined to see that he was not provoked.
“Then it is as it shall be. I will aid you in any way I can, M’Lord.”
Writers needed for the following characters:
Marian
Female child (the oldest)
Male child (second oldest)
Female child (third oldest)
Avenir (fourth child, male and youngest)
This story has a planned series of events, character development is up to each writer, the Lit’s rules will be encouraged and strictly enforced so don’t ask to join unless you seriously want to add to this and follow my loose guidelines.
A peice locked in no set time period, perhaps not in this world, but one hopefully that will pique your interest and imagination.
PM me if you are interested and with your thoughts as to the character you've chosen and how they will work into the story. I'll reply with how your ideas work and as to wether we can work it into the existing story.
Thank You
^^^^^^^^^
<><><><><><><><>
A sword, a ring and a scroll.
Darkness had come to the kingdom. Darkness in the form of death and despair. And with its cold presence it brought the downfall of the bright kingdom and it’s king. Death visited the old and wise king savagely, tearing his still beating heart out and waving it before his dying eyes.
“I will curse your three fair children. Drive all the love and gentleness from them, then turn them on each other and watch them destroy this world and each other.” He promised the kings fading eyes, barely hearing the wizened leaders final words and ignoring the prophesy in them.
“You may curse the living, but not even your power can reach to those not yet born”
And from that day forward, when death walked from the great castles with the children clamoring under his arms, the once great and good kingdom began to crumble. A final hand of death was dealt, striking out at a handsome woman and leaving her fatally wounded, watching her children being carried into the darkness.
In the farthest directions of the compass death spread the children, moving from the east to the cold lands of the west, then to the burning sands of the south before turning and depositing the final twisted yet oh so young child on the north isle. And in front of them all the lands of the east burned, the great castles set ablaze by death as he passed, killing nearly all who tried to fight those fires and adding their bodies to the inferno, making it a funeral pyre of the living and the dead. And those children grew, as beautiful in body as they were ugly in their twisted souls. Left behind to die the woman fought for the lives of two, her own and the one inside her, refusing to let the darkness overtake her and waiting for help to come. Morning came and with the sun of the day a robed man as well, his gray beard and hair in contrast to the youthful step he walked with, his twinkling eyes showing energy and intelligence in them.
“You are Marian and need my help.” He stated simply, gathering the badly wounded woman easily in his arms and carrying her away. His gait never faltering the miles faded beneath his sandaled feet and it seemed that quickly he gently laid her on a simple yet well-made bed in his home. Along the way he had taken the time to study her, admiring the calm beauty of her face, the courage in the way she bore her pain silently, even when the first throes of child birth assaulted her already weakened body. He knew what was about to happen, it was written in the ancient tablets he had studied, and the prophecies were about to come true.
“I will help you birth your son, and then save you if the gods will it as well” He spoke again, gathering rags, water and a solid length of hard oak. And then it began, the birthing of the man child, Marian’s courage once again put to the test, wave after wave of pain washing over her as she pushed with determination, her will the sole driving force that she had left. Long seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours and she refused to weaken until finally with a triumphant cry her child was brought into their world.
“Let me hold him before I die” Her weak words begged the tall, silent man who stooped to give her the precious bundle swathed in rags. His face showed awe and sadness over what he had just witnessed, replaced by a look of determination and resolve.
“Here is your man child” He replied softly, kneeling next to her as she held him to her breast. “Hold him and rest, for you will need all you can steal to care for him in the morn when you wake” His words surprised them both, himself for though a short sentence it was the longest he had spoken in years, her for the sure way he spoke as if he would will her to live.
“Are you that sure I am to live? Are you the giver of life and the taker of it as well?” She asked gently, no malice intended in the questioning words, her gaze drawn to the young man that suckled at her breast already.
“My brother you have already met, he is the taker of life and is called simply…death” He replied solemnly, watching the child feet hungrily and then raising his eyes from her bosom to her eyes as he finished. “I am the keeper of life and will stay by your side as long as you wish me to, tonight and many nights to come as well. As for the giver of life? She was our sister until my brother struck her down…a crime which he has yet to pay for”
The tall mans hand gently stroked the woman’s hair, soothing her and relaxing her as the child finished feeding and cuddled contentedly, both mother and child drifting into a healing sleep. And as they slept the man watched, drawing from a fold in his robes a small emerald bottle that shined in the dim interior…opening it and tilting it carefully over Marion’s lips, watching the honey like liquid drip to her parted lips and into them. And as she swallowed in her sleep he repeated the process, giving the remainder and the lions portion to the young sleeping man, begging his forgiveness…”I cannot let her die, my lord…Forgive me now and then a second time, when you face …HIM”
And as he promised she lived. Lived to see the morning, her wounds healed, her pain gone miraculously, even those from her giving birth to her son…and as her eyes opened she spoke to the figure that knelt the entire night beside her, never sleeping…
“I have woken as you foretold and as I slept I have dreamt of my son and his future and a name for him…I will call him…”
“Avenir” The tall man answered for her, making her eyebrows arch in surprise before she nodded slowly, the word taken from her lips by him. “It means “future” in your homelands language, does it not?”
Marian once again nodded, questions forming in her mind as to who this man was and why he had found her as if it were preplanned. But could it be? She chided herself for being a foolish woman but was determined to find out the whom if not the why…
“Am I healed as well, then?” She asked softly, cuddling the squirming bundle as it wakened and sought instinctively her breast, baring it before the unashamed man beside her. “Will I live to care for my son and see the dreams come true?”
For the first time the man smiled and it seemed to magically remove 20 years from his face as he answered carefully. “Your dreams are predictions of the future as how it might be. Accurate predictions if the goddess fate wills them to be, but she is a fickle goddess at times. I will have a talk with her from time to time and perhaps we can place ourselves on her good side.”
Marian returned the smile, content for the moment as she nursed her son; his future and hers were now in the hands of this man she did not know. Hands she believed were strong and fair but capable of unspeakable acts if provoked and she was determined to see that he was not provoked.
“Then it is as it shall be. I will aid you in any way I can, M’Lord.”
Writers needed for the following characters:
Marian
Female child (the oldest)
Male child (second oldest)
Female child (third oldest)
Avenir (fourth child, male and youngest)
This story has a planned series of events, character development is up to each writer, the Lit’s rules will be encouraged and strictly enforced so don’t ask to join unless you seriously want to add to this and follow my loose guidelines.
Last edited:
and Welcome
to HoneyB and a welcome to LongWalkHome
