EQ - Justyn's StoryEQ - Justyn's Story by SunGryphon
A wolf howled somewhere nearby and Justyn felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He tried to get a firmer grip on his sword, then cursed himself for being so nervous his palms were sweating. His orders were simple, or so he thought at the time-- Go to the Crushbone camp and return with two belts as proof. But now, with the towering trees of Greater Faydark blocking all sunlight, he wasn't as sure has he had been.
As he crept closer to the camp, he spied a centurion standing a bit away from the camp. Justyn quickly moved forward, but in his haste he stepped on a twig, and the loud snap alerted the orc to his presence. The centurion quickly bellowed a command, and two more orcs turned in Justyn's direction. When the three orcs began charging him, Justyn quickly realized he was in over his head, and he turned and ran without a second thought. He rushed through the forest, head towards what he thought was Kelethin. He soon realized he was lost, but with the grunting and jeering of
EQ - Dragonsbane p1EQ - Dragonsbane p1 by SunGryphon
A strange duo trudged through the high snow-covered hills of Stonebrunt. The first, an obvious warrior, carried two blades hung in scabbards at his sides, and wore black and silver plate armor. His steel-gray hair was pulled back away from his face, his elven heritage clearly showing in the pointed tips of his ears, and his helm was hung within easy reach from a clip on his pack. His eyes roamed constantly over the landscape, watching for the ravenous tigers that wandered through the mountains.
The second of the pair was also obviously an elf, but with quite different giveaways. Her skin was dark twilight blue, and looked almost like it should have stars sprinkled on it. Her silver-blue hair was cropped short, to keep it out of her eyes when she performed her duties. She also wore plate armor, but it was the indigo and black stuff of her native crafters, the dark elves. She carried a worn book cradled in one arm, and a sturdy club in the other. She also cast her eyes about warily, tens
Broken PiecesTo create with honestyBroken Pieces by Amazinadrielle
Is to leave oneself vulnerable;
But I would rather suffer
The harshness of criticism
Than become the creator
Of works insincere.
Once again, the icy blade of rejection
Has been driven deep
Into my willingly-exposed heart -
And like a desperate, suffering creature,
I search for answers
I begin to question
Why I care so much
About the contents of their poison words,
And I wonder how
Their sting can be so very bitter,
When I believe in myself with such unyielding conviction.
Bewildered and crushed,
I question the motives
Of compassionless critics;
Those who seem so quickly to forget
That there sits a living, breathing, feeling person
Behind the avatar I portray.
As I've done a thousand times,
I ask myself
Why these creatures cannot know,
As I have long known,
That things need not be perfect
In order to be beautiful.
Broken hearts can be repaired;
Their jagged fragments
With precision over time