Lady Mystical's tales of the Dimensions

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Postby asandir » Sep 29 2006, 2:07

something like that :D
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Postby Mytical » Sep 30 2006, 4:42

Ok, our intrepid crew is caught on Venus, and has been dodging some of the most fierce warriors in the galaxy. Of special concern is the Venetian Ray. Nobody is sure how they work (even the Venetians) but they seem to be unstoppable and work from the inside out. This is how one planet has been able to so far defeat the entire Federation, which has 9 other member planets. The only creatures seemingly resistant to it's effects are the peaceful Uranians (who finally have decided to enter the fight just to stop the war). The Uranians are also delivering an ultimatum to the Federation, if this war does not stop, they will stop it.

Anyhow, they finally succeed in there mission and have the queen. Finally some peace talks can commence. This is when they learn why the war started in the first place. Seems some male ambassador from the federation had slapped a Venetian. Venetians take honor seriously, so things quickly got out of hand. The twist to the story is "Lucky" McGraw was last seen being chased all over Venus by about a dozen Venetian Warriors, and never made it back to the ship. Seems he spied on some Priestess taking a bath...guess his luck maybe running out...

Luck isn't everything, and not everything is as it seems.
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Postby Mytical » Oct 1 2006, 5:34

Posting a different story soon, this one didn't pan out like I thought, things young eyes would be offended by :). Anyhow, stay tuned for a new installment as soon as I get over my writers block :).
Last edited by Mytical on Oct 2 2006, 6:02, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Thelonious » Oct 1 2006, 14:39

You shouldn't go over 13 dimentions :tongue: :tonguehands: Physicists claim that there are 13 dimensions max ;)


Anyway, good stories :applause:
Grah!

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Postby DaemianLucifer » Oct 1 2006, 15:08

Thelonious wrote:You shouldn't go over 13 dimentions :tongue: :tonguehands: Physicists claim that there are 13 dimensions max ;)


Actually its either 11 or 22 if I remember correctly(but dont ask me why,I have no idea.And I doubt that those that wrote the theory have as well :devious: )

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Postby Mytical » Oct 2 2006, 6:05

Writers block due to too much RPG, Creating towns, ect. Will pick back up as soon as a decent story comes to mind. :).
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Postby Mytical » Oct 7 2006, 9:30

This story is not about my alter egos nor about those who she normally hung arround. This story is inspired by the season we are getting into. I will leave you to decide if this is a true story, or one concieved only in my twisted mind.

It was many years ago when I was attending a church gathering sparred by the desire of the church to give children an alternative to All Hollows Eve. This particular church believed the pagan ritual should be outlawed and esponged from the records. I myself was a huge fan of Halloween but alas my family decided that this night I would be attending the church gathering instead of going trick and treating. Of course it was not all bad.

I went in my usual goth outfit, all black and bleary. At the time I was very goth. Lets just say I never went as a fairy princess or anything 'fuzzy' (well I did go as a grizzly one year..if that counts). As the festivities wound down and everybody headed inside for the actual preaching part of the festivities, I hid outside trying my hardest not to have to go in.

This year there was a mostly full moon, too bad it wasn't full..that would be fun. I was starting to grudgingly head in when I saw I was not the only one who did not want to go in. So of course I went over to strike up a conversation. As I got closer I noticed she was wearing a dress, and I slowed down. After all, I didn't have many 'girly girl' friends. Still better then going in and trying not to fall asleep. I noticed she was looking down at the creek from the small bridge there. The bridge was only about 2 feet above the creek, so no danger there. Still, she was leaning in awful far, and though it would not be fatal still a good knee skinning would ensue. Maybe I could like this girl after all..

As I got nearer, she fell in, so I went to check on her. Only there was no 'her'. Like I said it was 2 feet maybe actually less. There was nowhere she could have gone. There was the smell of ozone and I turned arround as I felt somebody there. The girl was standing there stareing at me with a silly grin on her face. Oh man I had been tricked..how did she do that? As I started to demand an explination something odd happened. She stepped forward, and through me. Straight through, felt as if electricity passed through me quickly. I spun arround just in time to see the whole scene play out again.

Well I wasn't about to stick arround and find out what this was about so I started heading toward the church. I didn't get it, couldn't be a ghost that had died at that creek. There was absolutely no way to hurt yourself falling from that height. I raced inside and to the comfort of the church.

I never did find out who the girl was. No police reports noted anything happening at that bridge, and the school yearbook never had her picture in any year. Every year I would return, and I never did see her again. Could it have been somebody playing a prank on me? If so how did they pass straight through me? If it wasn't a prank..what was it? Now you can decide..truth or fiction..
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Postby Mytical » Oct 8 2006, 9:33

How Mytical Stormcrow got to be a warewolf. Ok this was the time I was playing in Everquest, and there was a spell called Boon of the Geru (or something like that) that gave a caster more combat related skills (ok only enchanters). I loved the spell (there were stronger forms but I just loved this one so much it was the one I chose all the time). Anyhow the original story was being bitten, but I have..embellished this, to be more entertaining (I hope). Before this he had yet to earn his last name. (the name and the spell came on the same level :)).

I was born with an odd birthmark on my chest. It was in the shape of a wolves head. This was unusual but it did not bother me at all while I was growing up, and didn't interfear with my training in the mystic arts. One day many years after I was born, I was out hunting werewolves that had mysteriously appeared as well as some other very unusual creatures that looked like scarecrows. (EQ had a halloween night where odd creatures appeared and had some very interesting stuff :) ). Well me and my party was very successful, and had removed many of the dangerous creatures from the lands. We had just sat down to rest, when a ordinary citizen came up to us. We thought perhaps he was going to give us some task or quest, or maybe a reward for helping the town.

As the spokesperson for our group I stood, and went to greet him. I didn't even notice that night was falling, and the full moon was rising. Suddenly he transformed into a werewolf and lunged at me, sinking his teeth into my arm. The others quickly responded, but all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Clouds came from nowhere, a storm suddenly appeared. As the wind picked up I fell to my knees weak and my energy drained. I could feel the change happening in my body, but I did not want to end up like the mindless werewolves arround me. I could not, I WOULD NOT.

I struggled to rise to my feet, I would not surrender to this foul curse. I would master it, not it master me. Suddenly rain just poured down, and the wind picked up, as if trying to pound me down to accept my fate. Again I was on my knees, the pain was incredible. Stubborn I started to rise once more, and made it to one knee. The lightning lit up the sky and crashed all arround me, warning me that I could not win. I rose father, standing wobbling and being buffetted by intense winds and almost being struck by lightning dozens of times.

I grew angry that nature itself was seemingly against me. I fuled my inner fire with this anger, and raised a fist to the sky in defience. "Let it be known on this day that Mytical is no more! Today I am transformed, and made stronger then ever before. Mytical Stormcrow has been born!"
Lightning streaked into my hand and my body was alight with a unearthly glow, for moments the wind continued to howl and blow, and then...silence. The storm, the rain, the clouds, all gone. Instantly. My compatriots had just finished with the werewolf but had noticed absolutely nothing. From that day I was able to transform into a wolf at will, and still keep my wits about me.
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Postby Mytical » Oct 17 2006, 8:19

The wheel turns..and things that have happened happen again. Fate or chance it matters not. What was will be, what is will be again. These words I did not understand when I first heard them...much to my folly.

My past caught up to me one day. Remember, I used to be as cruel as they came. Not just killing either, there are things far worse then death. One of my old...victims had waited a long time for revenge. A long time, and plotted well.

I was on a mission of mercy to a neighboring city that had recently been attacked by a horde of undead creatures. They had managed to beat back the attack, but not without a hefty price. Most of there clerics died while sending the foul creatures back to there grave, and there were injuries. Famine and damage to the city also were a serious problem. We were bringing food and healing to the town. This time I was traveling with people who I didn't really know. Just soldiers and volunteers, as the rest of my normal crew were off tracking down the source of this undead menace.

For the first few days things went smoothly. It was hard, but rewarding work. Healing, rebuilding, comforting, and praying. The children were the real reward though. Seeing them come back from the brink of this horrible incident to the laughter and smiles once again was almost a religious experience. They have such good rebounding ability. (Tbc)
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Postby Mytical » Oct 22 2006, 11:16

Postponed for now, probably till after Jan 1st...do to increased stress.
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Postby Akul » Oct 28 2006, 21:06

The Adventures of Markal
Part II

After being squized by a zombie of a very fat peasant and killed by its stench, the temple of Life resurected me because I killed their bishop so I needed to suffer the second life (oh how terrible). They even gave me a "I was in afterlife eating pies and all I got was this lousy T-shirt refreshed with zom-zom parfem!" T-shirt with pink pants.
"Where are you going now?" the cleric asked me.
"To my poor, destroyed village." I told and left a tear. They'll never know that it was a secret nekromancer HQ!!
"Ah, you are going back to the super-secret nekromancer HQ?" he answered.
"Errr....yes!" I replied.
"Good! Give my greets to Sandro and tell him that I shall soon put an end to his terror. Also tell him that he is invited to a secret Christmas party together with a few paladins!" he told.
"Ok!" I told and got out of the monastery. It is spooky.
And so I was there in wilds of the Holy Griffin Empire trying to find out whats the time. I headed southeast and got to a crosroad.
On the left sign, there was writen: "TO SANDROS VILLAGE" while on the right sign was writen "TO SECRET NEKROMANCER HQ".
After few mon...hours... I decided to take the left road so that I could find Sandro, but I took the right road after I returned to the same place 7th time.
After few days of walking, killing, walking, masacring, walking, raising, walking, climbing (did I say walking?) I stumbled upon two wokie elves.
"Where are you going?" one of theme asked me.
"To the nearby village." I replied.
"You were going to the Secret Nekromacer HQ?"
"No, I am not going to the HQ!"
"But there is only one village here: Sandro's Place!" the right one answered.
"Ok, then I am going there! Will you stop me?" I replied.
"Of course! What did you tought?"
"But aren't you elves harmonius? You can't attack me if I am not a Dark Elf." I answered and tought how clever I am.
"He is right we are." the right onw told to the left one.
"Ok, we won't take you by force of arms! But you are going with us!" the left one told.
"And how will you make me go with you?" I told and the left one drew out his blades and... stabed theme onto the ground. Then he took his axe and... killed a hiding dark elf with it. Then he took... "No, please no!" I answered but he took out his lute and... and... started playing it while his friend danced polka around me.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" I felt uncouncious.
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Postby Fenris » Oct 29 2006, 16:48

Tadaa, I'll just go ahead and post this story I wrote a few weeks ago. And before anyone say anything: the beginning is supposed to be a bit cheesy.

The forest lay quiet. The only sound being heard was the soft sound of the wind through the leaves. In a glade surrounded by five old oaks two men stood facing each other. Between them was a rock, about four feet high, that in the eerie shadows from the trees almost resembled an altar. You could almost taste the tension between the two as they looked at each other. They had once been the best of friends, but now they were enemies. The taller of the two was a black man called Nomzamo with long dark hair in a big mess. He was wearing a rather strange looking hat and a old dirty poncho. His eyes glinted as he looked at his old friend Criff who was in a state of utmost concentration. Criff was shorter than Nomzamo, had dark blonde hair and wore a tattered cloak. Under one of the trees another person, who also wore a hat, could be seen. He sat in the grass with a big backpack between his knees and looked nervously at the two combatants while he absent-mindedly poked in the ground with his walking stick.
“Guys...Do you really have to do this?” he said.
“Yes, Morry, we must”, said Nomzamo softly. “There is no other way. It’s too late for that.”
“But it’s just…”
“Quiet Morgan”, interrupted Criff. “Zamo is right. This is the only option left for us.”

With that said the two men turned their attention towards each other again. The stakes were high and neither of them saw failure as an option. This was a battle that neither of them could afford to lose. Nomzamo slowly raised his hands and cracked his knuckles with a intimidating smile. Criff smirked back, and without losing eye contact he picked up the first jalapeño from the big pile on the stone between them and put it in his mouth. He carefully chewed on it. felt how it started to cause the inside of his mouth to burn in a most unpleasant way, and swallowed it. He breathed heavily for a moment before giving his opponent a most triumphant grin. Nomzamo hissed silently between his teeth. Morgan sighed.
“I think it’s a awful lot of trouble for a piece of cake”, he said.
The other two ignored his question as Nomzamo picked up a jalapeño from his pile. He was just about to put it in his mouth when Morgan spoke again:
“Can’t you just share the damn thing?”
Nomzamo and Criff glared at him. His presence was starting to annoy them.
“It’s too small to share”, said Nomzamo as if he was explaining something obvious to a stupid child. “If you hadn’t eaten so much of it there would be enough left to share; but you didn’t and there isn’t. Besides, this isn’t just any cake. This is chocolate cake. Now be quiet already! This is serious!”
“Fine”, said Morgan and took up a bottle of milk from the backpack and took a sip. Nomzamo put the jalapeño in his mouth. When he had swallowed it he yawned and said:
“Delicious things, these fruits.”
Criff blinked. So that’s how he wanted it? Then let’s make it more interesting.
“Quite…” he said. “Then you won’t mind making them a bit more tasty?”
With that he took two jalapeños at once and put in his mouth. He could almost hear his mouth scream of pain as the taste of the fruits really started to work it’s way into him. He started to feel hot, but Nomzamo didn’t look quite as calm anymore, and that was enough to make him forget about it. Nomzamo bravely took two jalapeños and ate them. Criff smiled viciously as he saw his opponents’ eyes twitch while he struggled to maintain a calm face.

Soon they had both eaten nine jalapeños each and the effect on them was starting to show. Criffs’ face was red and sweaty and Nomzamo stood breathing heavily. Morgan, who had now started to find the contest most amusing, wondered if their eyes would pop out of their sockets.
“I… can’t feel my knees…” panted Criff.
“Do you give up?” Nomzamo said hopefully with strained voice.
“Of course not!”
Criff loosened his cloak and let it fall to the ground, then he took another fruit and gave it a look of utter horror before eating it. Nomzamo took of his hat and threw it to Morgan who put it on, atop the hat he was already wearing, with a strange smile on his face. The next moment Nomzamos poncho came flying through the air.
“Hey! I don’t want your dirty old poncho! protested Morgan. It just stinks of mud and…” He carefully sniffed on it. “…something I can’t place. I suppose I should be happy for that.” He threw away the poncho, aiming for a innocent bird that barely escaped the deadly garment. When he looked back at the contestants he saw Criff swallow another pair of jalapeños with a satisfied smile on his face (that had now turned to an interesting shade of purple).

Suddenly everything fell silent as Nomzamo picked up five fruits. The other two stared at him chocked.
“…and the plot thickens.” mumbled Morgan with a smirk and took another sip of milk.
“You can’t be serious!” Criff almost yelled.
“Yes, I am.” Nomzamo said solemnly and threw the fruits into his mouth and ate them. His eyes were wide open and tears ran down his cheeks. He stood with his hands on his knees and breathed heavily while making some very strange noises. But then he slowly straightened up while letting out a diabolic giggle, for he was in the lead (later Morgan would try to imitate that giggle many times to no success when he tried to convince people that there actually were such a thing as a diabolic giggle).

For a moment no one said anything. The only sound being heard except the wind was Nomzamo who hadn’t quite recovered from the horrors of the five fruits yet. Morgan was the first to break the silence:
“Well, that was amusing… Your turn then, Criffy my lad. Five of those tiny things shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? Not after the twelve you’ve already eaten, no?”
Criff picked up five jalapeños and looked at the vile, evil things. It seemed to him that they were laughing at him and couldn’t wait to join their twelve buddies that had already made his mouth, throat and stomach feel like a volcano of pain. He shuddered, braced himself, and then put them into his mouth and started chewing. His tongue started crying, his teeth turned green and he started seeing lots of red dots. Then he made a fatal decision. He spat. The half chewed jalapeños flew through the air and landed on the rock. Criff fell down on his knees with tears in his eyes.
“No cake in the world is worth this!” he whimpered with weak voice.
“Y-you mean… you give up?!” Nomzamo said. Criff nodded with his eyes fixed on the grass. “Oh, thank God!” Nomzamo exclaimed. “I thought it would never end!”
“Just… just give me… something to drink” panted Criff.
“Yes, m-me too” said Nomzamo to Morgan.
“Well… uh, actually…” Morgan began nervously and held up the bottle of milk he had had in his hands. It was empty.
“You drank all the milk?!?” Criff yelled as loud as his sore throat allowed him.
“I’ll strangle you with that stupid little hat of yours, Morry!!” screamed Nomzamo.
Morgan got to his feet and carefully started to back away from his friends.
“Easy now, guys… I’m not the one who just had to have a eating contest with jalapeños. Besides, there is a pond like 300 feet that way.”
Criff and Nomzamo immediately started running in the direction Morgan pointed out.
“But water won’t do you no good!” he yelled after them. “It doesn’t have the… Oh, never mind.”
For a moment he stood there without knowing what to do. Then he started walking after his friends. He found them at the pond gulping down as much of the brownish water as they could.
“So… Do you want the cake right away or do you want to wait a few minutes, Zamo?” he said.
“You… take it!” Nomzamo said panting while pouring water over his head. “I don’t think I’ll… be able to eat anything for days!”
“Oh… thanks.” Morgan said.

He walked back to the glade whistling a tune, leaving his friends to discover for themselves that the water wouldn’t make the hot taste go away. He sat down and picked up the last piece of chocolate cake that had been so much fought over and started to eat it. He broke off a piece and threw to the bird that he had previously tried to trap under Nomzamos’ poncho. He looked at the small pile of jalapeños that were still lying on the rock.
“I do wonder where they got all those jalapeños from” he said to the bird.

And the moral of the story is that you shouldn’t have eating contests involving jalapeños (or any kind of hot spice for that matter), because you won’t be feeling too good even if you win.
Hey, I know where we are! We're in that place where I didn't know where we were before!

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Postby DaemianLucifer » Oct 29 2006, 22:30

Fenris wrote:The taller of the two was a black man called Nomzamo with long dark hair in a big mess. He was wearing a rather strange looking hat and a old dirty poncho.


Kung lao :rofl:

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Postby asandir » Oct 30 2006, 1:39

:lolu: nice DL .... how you got that outta that story I'm not sure, but well spotted
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Postby Fenris » Nov 4 2006, 9:32

:rofl: lol, I never thought about that. Oooh, now I have to play som MK...
Hey, I know where we are! We're in that place where I didn't know where we were before!

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Postby Akul » Nov 9 2006, 9:29

Here, the prologue of my novel is done:

Fires of Winter
WARNING: 10 pages to read
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Postby Akul » Nov 19 2006, 20:47

Time to revive the topic.
And enough jokes in my stories :D

The Magician - Part I

He never tought that he will like the smell of the sea. Normally, he would spit on that giant liquid, but his life is about to change. And he liked that tought.
"Hey!" someone asked him and he turned around. Elf with green eyes and gold hair approached him.
"Hi!" He told "I didn't except a greet from a High Elf."
"Neither do I. I am a Wari, or Wood elf how you humans call us. Alingar is my name." the elf told.
"And I am Hektor, glad to meet you." Hektor smiled. "I am a Cantharian, or... how do you call us?"
"Sinri, like Sun because you worship the God whom you show in the form of a sun."
"Seems you know my religion better then me." he smiled. "Are you also going to Elvatar?" Hektor asked and turned back to the sea to the west.
"No, I am just a seaman... the captain to tell you the thruth." he told and standed next to him. "And why is a Sinri going to Elven homeland?"
"It is a long story. You don't want to listen to it."
"I am a elf. What is long to you, that is short to me. Tell me."
"I want to be a mage." Hektor told him and excepted a laughter and teasing like before.
"A Sinri mage? Strange." he told... siriously. "And why?"
"You see, I am coming from a village from the Valley of Bandits." Hektors face became grim. "While I was in woods seeking the axe my foster father lost, armies of king Agnar Ravenheart burnt the village. And everyone in it."
"Brutal. He gotta be a Hing Elf."
"No, he is a Cantharian like me. However, I was also gone to the city to visit my... friend. My foster father was always drunk and I didn't suspect that he won't notice my presence. When I returned, the village was burnt to the ground." then he came to the good part. "I saw some priests and soldiers in it. I neared theme and saw how some Pala was nearing the fire. And then fire became alive an attacked her."
"You are sure you aren't a high elf when you enjoj that?"
"I didn't enjoj torturing her. Truly, I found that disguisting. Firstly, I tought that that was a deed from Atan so I ran away. But when I was sleeping, I coudn't not to stop thinking about the fact that magic does exist. I tought that it all were just fairy tales. So I spent most of my time in trying to learn somethign about magic."
"And did you?"
"No. When I lost all hopes, I heard from my... friend that High Elves are teaching magic. I had luck to get away from the valley when the Game of Brothers started. And so I got to this sheep."
"Nice. But do you know that Mages Guild accepts only those who have magical gift in theme?"
Hektor did not know that. He tought that it would be simplier. "No."
"Then I hope that you won't be dissapointed." Alingar told and they spent few minutes just looking the sea. The sea wasn't so nice any longer now that he knew that he could become a beggar in elven streets. Beging High Elves for silver. I can just jump into the sea.
To get his minds out of that, he asked.
"So, where were you all traveling?"
And they spent the rest of the day talking.
Next day ship got to the port. Alingar approached again.
"So, we are here. The city of Tarasil. Ready to become a mage?" he asked and Hektor noded. When he got out of the ship, Alignar yelled.
"Hey!" Hektor turned and elv threw something into his hands. "Wear this so that anyone can see it and you won't have problems with wild life if you ever met any!" he told and turned.
Hektor looked at item he got. It was a green claw with a diamong in the midle. He put it around his neck and started a new life. Good or bad was yet to be seen.
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Postby DaemianLucifer » Nov 19 2006, 21:30

Sauron wrote:"And I am Hektor, glad to meet you." Hektor smiled. "I am a Cantharian, or... how do you call us?"


Really?He isnt a troyanian? :devil:

Sauron wrote:"No, I am just a seaman... the captain to tell you the thruth." he told and standed next to him. "And why is a Sinri going to Elven homeland?"


Seamen+seapeople=seaciety

But enought with the jokes,Im looking forward to the rest.But can you update two stories regulary?

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Postby Akul » Nov 19 2006, 21:35

FoW is still my first priority. But how I still didn't come op with good dialogue betewen Ned and Erik, I wrote this.
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Postby Akul » Nov 25 2006, 19:12

The Magician - Part II

"Does anybody here speak Cantharian?" he yelled, but he didn't get any answer... again. High Elves just looked at him as if they saw a talking slime.
Back in Canthara, he was thinking so much about how he will become a mage, how he will create fire by just moving his hands... and yet he never tought about that that noone will understand him in Elvatar. And he tought that becoming a mage will be his only problem.
"Does anybody here speak Cantharian?" he yelled again bit again all he got were disguisting eyes of the High Born.
He yelled for days while walking through Tarasil. Tarasil was a High Elf city and by that, it was beautiful. There was no dirt on the roads, just stone. There were no cows or dogs in the streets, just High Elves. River flew through the city and magnificient white bridges were beyond theme.
But yet, he was walking for three days and he didn't eat anything.
"Please, does anybody speak Cantharian?" he asked again but with no replies.
"Please, I am hungry. Does anybody speak Cantharian?" he asked again but without a wordly reply... just a hand on his shoulder.
He turned around and saw a High Elf in blue-purple robe and with golden hair.
"Let me make one thing sure Sinri, everyone knows Cantharian!" High Elf told "But they find your yelling... disguisting."
He felt so dumb now. Why, in the seven hells, didn't he just ask someone.
"We learn all languages that exist in academy as well as Cantharian." he told. "Come. I own a tavern, how you humans call it."
He followed the High Elf wisely not telling a word. When they got to the tavern, he asked: "How can you recognize a tavern when there is no sign?"
High Elf looked at him and after few moments he told: "Simply. Every tavern must be fourth house from the port, second house from the town gates and sixth house from the town core."
"Interesting" he told and followed High Elf inside.
Unlike the taverns in Canthara, Elvarian taverns obviously weren't crowded and noisy like Cantharian. And there also were no shank or bartender.
"Sit here." High Elf told and showed on a stool. As everything else in tavern, the rable and stool were as beautiful as the rest of tavern and city. "I'll bring you food soon enough."
High Elf didn't need long to return with food. He brought him some meat and fish. Then he sat.
"Whats your name?" Elf asked.
"Renly." Renly told.
"I can see that you lie, but however. I'll call you Renly. I am Aeslin." Aeslin told.
"Glad to meet you." Renly told.
Aeslin looked at his plate. "Why don't you eat?"
"It isn't customed to speak while eating." Renly told.
"Then eat and I'll return later so that we can continue this interesting conversation."
After he eat the whole plate, a woman sit next to him. She was smiling.
"Err... hello miss." Renly told.
"Miss? I am only twenty. I am still a girl!" she smiled. To Renly, all elves were young. "And whats your name... sure?"
"Gauldoth." Renly told.
"Didn't you say to my father that you are called Renly?" she asked.
"Ops."
"Whats your real name?" she asked half-angry, and half-entertained.
"Alian." he told.
"You lie." she told fast and simple.
His great plan to confuse his enemies with hiding his name felt too soon. "Arnim. Arnim is my name!"
"Oh, you don't lie! Fascinating." she told and smiled again. "And I am Leana. Leana Rein."


Here. Renamed the story into "The Magician".
I am back and ready to... ready to... post things.


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