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Brirabeth: Ep4 - Lair of the flaming breathScroll IV
Lair of the flaming breath
Erion had a strong feeling his final battle was nigh once he heard Lord Rithedir describe Deadeye, the dragon of Mount Scaleburn. He was unsure if he was ready to face the vicious dragon. Erion did not want to sacrifice himself, yet knew he would be looked up to among the peoples of Brirabeth if he succeeded in killing Deadeye. This was the most powerful creature Erion was ever to face, and it was hard for him to acknowledge this. But nevertheless, he had to take the task.
The next morning, the company was leaving Casthor, to head off to Mount Scaleburn and recover the Dragonstone. As they strolled away from the keep, Erion noticed Rithedir on the balcony. “Farewell, Erion!” Rithedir exclaimed. “I pray that you return alive!”
Erion waved back. “Don't worry! I’ll be fine!”
But as Erion said this, he still felt worry. “I mustn't stand down. I mustn’t stand
Brirabeth: Ep3 - Home of the elvesScroll III
Home of the elves
“Wake up, me lads!” Huffey exclaimed, shaking the red blanket over Magon.
Magon sprung up. He woke up to see a dwarf's face and the sunlight from the window. “Tell me Huffey, Why did you have to wake me up this early in the morning?”
“Because I’m a dwarf! What de ye' expect?!” Huffey replied.
Magon let out a long, jolly laugh. "Oh, Huffey."
“Waking others early is natural for us dwarves. However, I do it solely for excitement, other dwarves want gold. Most are jealous of our king anyway!”
“You come up with the best ones, Huffey.” Magon remarked.
"Eh, that's natural too." Huffey said.
Everyone else woke up, and soon, they ate their breakfast and werepreparing their equipment. This was a going to be a long way to go, and there were forces there like no other force the party had faced so far. So they made su
Carrot's sexy wear
'knock, knock' there is someone knocking on Carrot's front door, and even though she heard the person approach the doorstep a couple of seconds before the interaction with the wood, she has a strong feeling as to whom it might be. The person's scent reaches Carrots nostrils, and she knows instantly, who it is. Her ears twitch a little by absorbing the sound coming from behind her, as she's slowly preparing a meal for herself after a long shift on the Guardian's patrol. Though she has been training to become a musketeer, her body can't help but become slightly tired after several hours of patrolling and doing service for Dogstorm.
"Come on in Wanda" Carrot calls towards the door, knowing her friend hears her sentence, and she turns around as the doorknob's being pushed down.
Wanda enters Carrots home and can already smell the meal, she's been preparing moments ago, and drying off her boots on the thatch rug, that's welcoming visitors inside. Wa
Nevermore VI“I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect – in terror.”
The rest of Andre’s day was uneventful; a typical day of work. Ernest spent most of their downtime recounting his harrowing adventure against the Void Dragon that had kept him and his D&D buddies up until four AM. Hector and Will stopped by to loiter for a bit, which Ernest didn’t mind if things were slow. They bought a little more of his favor by volunteering to buy lunch. Just another normal day at the Comic Nook that eventually came to an end.
“Thanks for the help again today,” Ernest said as they were closing up.
“You don’t gotta say that every day, man,” Andre told him, putting out the last of the new arrivals. “Workin’ here is awesome.”
He cut open another box and paused. Inside was a stack of the newest Silver Surfer c
The Broken Woman The beginning. You’re born, you live, you die. That is life. That is the fundamental essence of life. Just like stories: we have a beginning, a middle, and an end. It’s the middle, yes, the middle, that has the most life in it. So many tales from the middle. You only get one tale at the beginning and one tale at the end. Birth and death. That is true. I am sorry if you think otherwise.
The middle. This is what this story is about. These stories, mostly. We will touch base on the beginnings, and dabble in the ends, but the story will mostly consist of the middles. Their middles. Their tales. Their lives.
The end. I do hope that you will cherish the middles to prepare for this. To prepare for the end. The end of them. Never forget the middles. Do not lose them to the ends, or I’ll be disappointed. Very disappointed. You won’t like me when I’m disappointed.
I hope you will enjoy these
A Micro Aggression...Decided I'd go ahead and make my latest profile addition another upload. I felt as though some things about me needed to be better clarified on my page. Here goes...
On another subject, I am going to speak of what I would normally consider to be a very private, personal matter. I have a same sex orientation, or in the words of modern liberal society, I am “gay.” However, I completely reject the label out of my disdain towards the idea of basing my identity off something like my sexuality. This is just one of the many reasons I take issue with the LGBT institution. I choose to identify as a man, and I am perfectly content with that being the only thing people see when they look at me which is why I don’t go around waving rainbow flags or involve myself with “pride parades.”
And this leads me to discuss yet another part of myself. Yes, I am a Christian. I ascribe to the Christian faith, and try to live my life off the teachings of Paul and Christ.
We the People [Pleas for Equality (Pt.2)]I remember the first time I stood for the cloth,
A symbol of freedom, of opportunity.
For me growing up,
It didn’t symbolize racial injustice, supremacy, or slavery,
It represented opportunity, equality,
It was the calling card of the American Dream.
For me, its Red was the blood that was shed,
By those who simply wanted a brighter future.
The White was the washing over of our bitter past,
Our rivalries and our sins,
To obtain that wonderful perfect life,
That once upon a time, we all fought to obtain.
The Blue, and the Stars: the night sky, full of wishes,
For Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
For that Fateful Day, when we could all come together:
Blacks, Whites, Religious, or Otherwise, and sing
“Free at last, Free at last, thank God Almighty,
I’m free at last”.
I remember singing Proud to Be an American,
Most of the sign language I weaved I still remember,
And how strong I felt,
The sort of Pride that beamed in my face was unparalleled.