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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Rahsash Geldich

Visitor

Posts: 2

(1/1/02 4:57:36 pm)

Reply The Prince's Armorer

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My writing style is unusal to some. I write the major parts of a story, the ones I have worked out, the piece them together. This means my writings will have gaps of lost action or time untill I fill them all in. Occasionally, I will edit out whole sequences or splice two together, so it may not be the same as when you last read it.

 

I thought I would fill everyone in before things became too confusing.

Posted

Rahsash Geldich

Visitor

Posts: 3

(1/1/02 5:28:18 pm)

Reply Re: The Prince's Armorer

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Tilek worked in the forge as she had for many days before, and loved doing so. Her father was getting old, and didn't mind that his oldest daughter was in more prospect of taking over the buisness than his son. Her brother was much more interested in the church, and was too high strung to work with the metal. Other relations she had none, as she was adopted into the family as it was. The Smith, his wife, and their son all were fair in every aspect. Light eyes in light faces framed by light hair as they went throught their light and cheery life.

 

As a child, Tilek had felt out of place, her features as dark as theirs were light. Raven black hair and chocolate brown eyes in a catish face. A few light freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks, standing out on her bronzy skin. The light of the fire played across it now, hesitating in the scars on her hands. They had very few scars for a smith, even for one as young as she. The old healing woman, who lived in a cave by the river in the woods, gave her special remedies that worked miracles. Her gaze followed up to the nail she was working on, the process soothing, yet monotinous. It put her in a tracelike state, which she enjoyed and relished. It was here she could see all the wonders of the fires.

Posted

peredhil31

Elder of Lists and Manners

Posts: 819

(1/4/02 5:46:46 am)

Reply

ezSupporter

Feedback

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Peredhil tiptoes in, so as not to disturb the writer. He is followed by a Giant Guinea Pig dressed in a spiffy black suit.

Settling himself, he munches on some popcorn, hoping to read more soon.

 

"I'm liking this so far," He confides quietly to Nuncio, who shrugs and nods back alertly.

Posted

Gyrfalcon25

Bard

Posts: 156

(1/4/02 9:38:22 pm)

Reply Re: Feedback

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*Gyr sticks a head in to whisper a request for a continuation before returning to the audience*

Posted

Rahsash Geldich

Initiate

Posts: 17

(1/21/02 11:07:06 am)

Reply Re: Feedback

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She folded her scarred arms across her chest. The knight was handsome, and he was giving her doubous looks. She stared at him in the eyes, shifting.

 

"You wanted something?" The man started, as most females would have been liquid by now.

 

"Yes, I wanted to speak to the armorer." She held out her hands, snatching the helmet before he cought on.

 

"And how did you get this tin can as a helmet int he first place?" She banged it agains the anvil as hard as she could. Just as she had expectd, it split right in two, and she tossed half of it back to the open mouthed knight.

 

"You need a new one, and I can supply."

 

"I need the Armorer." Her eyes grew fiery, their light brown reflecting the flame eerily.

 

"You're looking at her. " The young knight laughed.

 

"Girls aren't armorers." She took the other half of the helmet and hit im on an armored shoulder, causing him to wince.

 

"Knights aren't jousters without armor."

Posted

Rahsash Geldich

Initiate

Posts: 20

(1/28/02 5:55:27 pm)

Reply Re: Feedback

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Tilek peered couriously around the Ring, persons from every rank and type milling together for the most part. It was a loud buzz of hubbub, and her stomach shuddered and hid close to her spine. She told it to quit being such a coward, she would be just fine. Following the trail of smoke that wafted through the tents, the clang of metal and smell of buring coal and wood drew her towards her fellows. The tents had been divided up by category, and the smithy tents were close to the forest so wood could be brought in with more ease. The early morning sun hit the flames that already licked at the steam comming of the dewy ground. There was only one tent left, and she set out dutifully towards it, her bare arms getting goosebumps in its shady, cool interior.

 

There was almost no wood left, so she set out her tools in a way that said the tent was occupied, and set off itno the forest. She had no apprentice, did not desire one. She found an ax and set off into the heavy pine, her muscles rippling as she split a few dead saplings into burnable pieces. She found another dead pine, still upright, that she knocked over with a few good blows. It ws a nice way to stretch for the days work. She piled the wood onto the tree and drug the entire thing back to her tent.

 

The sun had scared off the last of the mist, promising a windy and cloud skittering sky, but no rain.

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