I'm on the list I would write some today, but I'm tired, and I feel like procrastinating, and I need to come up with a description for the Nightmare....
Here goes. ---------------------------------------------------- Startled by all the commotion outside, ROApoptarts ran out of the inn, and saw the Nightmare. A colossal horse, at least ten feet tall, stood in the center of the town. Flames trailed from it's charred mane, and the ground around its big hooves burned. Fire streamed out of the creature's flaring nostrils. Poptarts, frozen in fear, could only keep looking at the nightmare. Corinth, who had come out of the Pain and the Misfortune, stared at the rider. A knight clad in black burning stone, lava streaming down the unrecognizable face, sat on the hellish steed. Corinth was oblivious to these details, but was extremely unsettled at the sight of the knight's weapon: A giant, burning scythe.
Go to writers cafe and give me an update to your blacksmithing work so I can put it in next part of chapter 2 and post me some feedback! PS your a great writer OF COURSE your on the list
Here's the next part of The Colosseum. If you could edit it that would be great! I glanced around again, hoping that I had just overlooked the other girls. And then again. And again. I probably looked around that room twenty times before I accepted the truth. I was the only girl. And since scary-blonde-lady and those two guys had left me in here, I had no choice but to train and hope I didn't make a fool of myself in front of all these men. For some reason, I was strangely attracted to a thin sword that someone had left leaning up against a wall. I approached it and grabbed the hilt. It was a simple sword, not encrusted with gems, and there was no fancy metalwork adorning it. Yet it was beautiful, strange as that seems. And the moment I lifted it, everyone in that room knew it was mine. Karl's POV I had never seen her before in my life, but there was something strangely familiar about her. I quickly went over all of the places I could have seen this girl in my mind, but I was a gladiator, destended to die in the Colosseum, and I had limited access to the outside world. But I had chosen this life. The stench of the other gladiators, and the blood-stained arena were both unavoidable, and necessary in order to feel that thrill of fighting that I yearned for. However, that didn't mean that I couldn't make some friends along the way. So I walked over to this new girl, preparing to welcome her to our (not-so) merry band of gladiators. It would've gone well, but the closer I got, the easier it was to notice her beauty. She was absolutly gorgeous. Not your normal gorgeous, with blond hair and blue eyes. No, she was more exotic. Short black hair, tan skin, and a perfect body, toned and muscular. She didn't fit in with all of these sweaty, disgusting men more than a rose did surrounded by cacti. I started to believe in love and first sight right then and there, and I was going to walk away, but my feet had other ideas. I strolled right up to her and leaned against the wall. "Hey sweetie," I said, grinning. "Haven't seen you around before. You new?" She looked at me, and glanced at the floor. I could've sworn she was blushing. Then she looked back up. "Yeah," she replied. Then she stuck out one hand. "I'm Coralie. Nice to meet you...what's your name?" "Karl." Then I shook her hand. Could I be blamed if I held it for a second too long? I could've stayed there talking to Coralie for the rest of the day, but it was my turn in the training arena, so I had to go. Right as I was leaving, though, I heard Coralie say, "I'll see you later, Karl!" Sweet.
Why don't you try describing about coralines <-- sorry I'd I spelt it wrong -- feelings or Karls training???
Ok, I believe I was asked to bring this here. Before that however, I have a catch or two. One being that this is chapter one, while I still have the prologue in work right now. The second, is I want absolute truth. And point out ALL grammar, punctuation, and spelling errors. And if you feel something can be worded differently for more effect, tell me. Also, the whole story is nameless. Chapter one-Deserter Sparks flew. A sharp metallic clang ran through the deserted area of town. Swords flying, slashing, thrusting. One opponent looking to gain an edge. It didnt take long until their blades locked, then seperated, Anar lunged towards the soldier, his long billowing cloak sweeping around him. Where it opens from the movement a thin skintight metallic covering is revealed. If one had enough time to notice they would see that the armor appeared to contort to his every move, in perfect sync with his body. The middle-aged soldier across from him dressed in the usual wear for Ilstavian guards. A simple leather covering in the arms and legs with a small metal plate to cover the chest area, however that is all the real armor a guard carries, allowing him mobility and comfort, but a lot of vulnerable areas. This soldier sidestepped Anars lunge and brought his own short sword up towards Anar's chest. Anar swiftly twirled to his left, catching the soldier unawares, with a quick flick of the wrist Anar's blade met the soldiers throat. Barely drawing blood as a small drip rolled down the heavily breathing guard's neck. "Where is it?" Hissed Anar. "I don't know what you are talking about!" grunted the soldier. "What the hell are you talking bout? Why are you leaving?" "Hmph, they don't tell you much of anything eh?" With a look of disgust apparent on Anar's face he lowered his sword down to his side."Where would she put it, and why? Does she not trust me? Doesn..." However, Anar couldn't finish his thought. The soldier suddenly lunged at Anar. In a desperate attempt to disarm Anar the soldier reached fir Anars sword. Succeeding only to produce a very deep cut his hand. With sudden squirt of blood that gushed onto Anar, bloodying his cloak Anar reacted. One quick uppercut to the soldiers neck and the soldier dropped to the bare dirt road, blood soon pooling onto the ground from his mortal wound. Anar looked hauntingly down upon his victim. "So falls another father, another husband, another son. He falls to the ridiculous idea of loyalty to ones country. The fool." Anar spat a small amount of saliva and blood onto the ground beside the guard in disgust. Making no attempt to cover the body he took off down the deserted street of Lower Ilastravia heading towards the Grand Altar. "No your Highness, we have not heard any news regarding the turncoat" A seemingly calm older man rose steadily from a kneeling position to talk to his Queen. "I understand. Keep looking. I want him back alive. Also... Gornund....would you please stop calling him that?" "Yes, your Highness, my sincerest apologies. Ma'am, if I may be so bold as to ask, do you have any orders as of yet? We can't let the tur....we cannot allow Anar too much freedom." Gorunds face immediately flushed when he realized his mistake. "Orders...oh yes. Tell the soldiers that they are not to engage him in combat under no means. Also, about the sword...." "The sword has already been moved. I shall notify all the soldiers of your request immediately." With that Gorund, the attendant to the Queen, scurried out of the long throne room, past ten guards posted by the doorway, and out into the corridor. With a deep sigh the Queen rose from her throne. A royal blue cape unfurled behind her. With her soft gilded and bejeweled armor she seemed to reflect the sunlight coming in from the nearby windows etched exquisitely of stained glass carefully detailing all the main points of Ilstravia's history. She un-did a strap at her waist allowing the thin silver sword at her side to fall to the hard stone floor. Pulling on a string by her neck allowed the cape to float down to the marble floor landing in a crumpled heap. "Oh my dear son, where have you gone?" Walking towards a nearby marble pillar she leaned upon it. Hugging it ferociously. Begging it for support. Within mere seconds her body was wracked with violent shakes and tears dripped onto the smooth cold floor below her.
Chapter one-Deserter Sparks flew. A sharp metallic clang ran through the deserted area of town. Swords flying, slashing, thrusting. One opponent looking to gain an edge. It didn't take long until their blades locked, then separated. Anar lunged towards the soldier, his long billowing cloak sweeping around him. Where it opens from the movement, a thin, skintight, metallic covering is revealed. If one had enough time to notice, they would see that the armor appeared to contort to his every move, in perfect sync with his body. The middle-aged soldier across from him dressed in the usual wear for Ilstavian guards. A simple leather covering in the arms and legs, with a small metal plate to cover the chest area is all the real armor a guard carries, allowing him mobility and comfort, but a lot of vulnerable areas. This soldier sidestepped Anar's lunge and brought his own short sword up towards Anar's chest. Anar swiftly twirled to his left, catching the soldier unawares, and with a quick flick of his wrist, Anar's blade met the soldier's throat, barely drawing blood as a small drop rolled down the heavily breathing guard's neck. "Where is it?" Hissed Anar. "I don't know what you are talking about!" grunted the soldier. "What the hell are you talking 'bout? Why are you leaving?" "Hmph, they don't tell you much of anything, eh?" With a look of disgust apparent on Anar's face, he lowered his sword down to his side."Where would she put it, and why? Does she not trust me? Does..." However, Anar couldn't finish his thought. The soldier suddenly lunged at Anar. In a desperate attempt to disarm him, the soldier reached for Anar's sword, succeeding only to produce a very deep cut in his hand. With a sudden squirt of blood that gushed onto Anar, bloodying his cloak, Anar reacted. One quick uppercut to the soldier's neck and the soldier dropped to the bare dirt road, blood soon pooling onto the ground from his mortal wound. Anar looked hauntingly down upon his victim. "So falls another father, another husband, another son. He falls to the ridiculous idea of loyalty to one's country. The fool." Anar spat a small amount of saliva and blood onto the ground beside the guard in disgust. Making no attempt to cover the body, he took off down the deserted street of Lower Ilastravia, heading towards the Grand Altar. "No, your Highness, we have not heard any news regarding the turncoat." A seemingly calm older man rose steadily from a kneeling position to talk to his Queen. "I understand. Keep looking, I want him back alive. Also... Gornund... would you please stop calling him that?" "Yes, your Highness, my sincerest apologies. Ma'am, if I may be so bold as to ask, do you have any orders as of yet? We can't let the tur... we cannot allow Anar too much freedom." Gorund's face immediately flushed when he realized his mistake. "Orders...oh yes. Tell the soldiers that they are not to engage him in combat under no means. Also, about the sword...." "The sword has already been moved. I shall notify all the soldiers of your request immediately." With that Gorund, the attendant to the Queen, scurried out of the long throne room, past ten guards posted by the doorway, and out into the corridor. With a deep sigh the Queen rose from her throne. A royal blue cape unfurled behind her. With her soft gilded and bejeweled armor, she seemed to reflect the sunlight coming in from the nearby windows, etched exquisitely in stained glass, carefully detailing all the main points of Ilstravia's history. She undid a strap at her waist, allowing the thin silver sword at her side to fall to the hard stone floor. Pulling on a string by her neck allowed the cape to float down to the marble floor, landing in a crumpled heap. "Oh, my dear son, where have you gone?" Walking towards a nearby marble pillar she leaned upon it, hugging it ferociously, begging it for support. Within mere seconds, her body was wracked with violent shakes, and tears dripped onto the smooth, cold floor below her. i edited the story and fixed all the spelling and grammar mistakes i found, but there might be some that i missed!
K. Cool. Was there amything with speakings? Cuz I'd rather not get those done. I create characters by Their speech patterns.
MetalWinger how dare you defile this thread with talks stats and such. We do this for free, we're doing it to bring back fanfic!!