A Fantasy Story

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Ah!!!!! Way to torment me!!!!! **Cries** Post more as soon as you get the chance!!! I'm so excited, and hyper!! It's sooooo close!!! Oh my gosh! Post more! Post more!!!
 
Chloe, take some notes.

About Grace and her writing:

1. She is a VERY good writier.
2. She only writes about as much as she posts.
3. She LOVES to leave you hanging
4. She is very good at building suspence (as many writers lack)
5. Formulates characters very well
6. Everything will make sense in the end.
 
**Growls** I wish I was that good of a writer! **Geez** Way to leave me hanging!! LOL

**Waits for tomorrow**
 
SlpNarniaQueen said:
Chloe, take some notes.

About Grace and her writing:

1. She is a VERY good writier.
2. She only writes about as much as she posts.
3. She LOVES to leave you hanging
4. She is very good at building suspence (as many writers lack)
5. Formulates characters very well
6. Everything will make sense in the end.
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Couldn't have put it better myself! :p Don't know about #1 & 2 though! This is as much as I've written, but not in my other 2 stories! :D
 
Elindil said:
Couldn't have put it better myself! :p Don't know about #1 & 2 though! This is as much as I've written, but not in my other 2 stories! :D
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HA! I knew it! I said usually though, meaning not ALL the time... :rolleyes: no #1 is entirely true. What did I tell you? You are going to become world famous for writing, you are better than some authors!
 
SlpNarniaQueen said:
HA! I knew it! I said usually though, meaning not ALL the time... :rolleyes: no #1 is entirely true. What did I tell you? You are going to become world famous for writing, you are better than some authors!
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Give me an example! :p
 
Well Jerry Spinelli for one. There's lots of others, but I forget their names cuz their books were so bad I took them back to the library after the first page!
 
Lief stepped into the building, he took a deep breath, and looked at his wife to be. She was pretty. He gave her a nervous smile, then stepped forward. "Hello," he whispered.
The girl smiled at him, but he could tell that she was as nervous, if not more than he. "Here," He lifted the chain over his head, and put it over hers. "For you."
"Thank-you... It's..." she touched it, "It's beautiful...What, what's your name?"
"Lief, and you are?"
"Frida..." She paused, "I guess we should go sit down..."
But no sooner had she said that, then an arrow whizzed over their heads, into the audience. Someone screamed, they had been hit.
"What the..." The voice stopped, two men, on horseback charged into the room. Lief and Frida only just managed to get out of the way just in time. The men had bows and arrows on their backs, and naked swords in their hands. They and the horses glistened with armour. The men wore helmets, with the visors down. One of the men held a flaming touch, with a wicked laugh he threw it into the corner, where the hay was piled. It burst into flame.
Lief could feel his sword tingling at his side, as if it wanted to fight.
 
Frida could hear people and horses running past, outside the building, lots of them. More soldiers? She looked at the flaming hay. The flames were licking at the wooden walls, it wouldn't be long before they were ablaze.
The men's horses, were getting nervous, so close to the fire. One of the men turned, and rode out of the building, the other was about to follow, but his gaze fell on Frida. He rode his horse so close to her she could feel it's breath. "You be a pretty lass." He grabbed her arm, then he saw the necklace. "Where did you get that?" He hissed, twisting her arm, until she cried out in pain. "Answer me girl! Were did you get it!?!"
"Let her go," Lief drew his sword, he didn't even know how to use one. No one in this village would, they were peaceful farmers, they knew nothing of war. But the sword was magical, Lief could already feel it's magic, running up his arms. They felt warm, and now he felt as if he had fought a battle a hundred times over. He might not know how to fight, but the sword did.
"Foolish boy," The man let go of Frida's arm, and his sword slashed out.
 
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