To catch what has already been caught.

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by PerFolmer, Apr 3, 2013.

  1. PerFolmer

    PerFolmer Citizen of Urth.

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    Hey all.
    I like to write from time to time.
    I've never disclosed anything like this but please check it out and give some ideas if you wish, it's always appreciated.
    I won't spoil the plot of a continued story at this point at least.
    Thank you!

    .......
    “Run back to your master, dog! Let's see if you dare come out of that whorehouse shack you call a stronghold!”
    The cold, harsh winds of early winter gave life to the leather straps attached to lieutenant Firch's makeshift hood,
    whipping his face relentlessly as he ran or rather staggered across the muddy fields, gravely wounded from a severe beating.
    Twenty paces behind him, at the tree line, four men supervised this sad escape with a sense of glorious achievement.
    Firch sluggishly kept an eye over his shoulder and every time he looked back he was met with a new tirade of insults.
    Had their master not given specific orders not to slay this man they would have let their spears fly into that whimpering
    cowards back or had him run over by their horses. Here, still a day's march through the woods to the closest burrow, who would ever find out?
    As they observed lieutenant Firch make his way across first one field, then another, eventually disappearing in the shrubbery they gleefully
    emptied the sack they had brought along and went over its contents on the ground. The sky was soon to turn dark and while not all
    trees had yet shed their leaves, the thick clouds above turned every color cold and dead. The first snow fell only yesterday, and a thin layer
    covered the ground like a blanket across the land with exception for the trail the released prisoner had left; stirred mud and drops of blood.
    The bag's content trickled out; a loaf of bread, a small bottle of wine and a pouch filled with water. “Looks like that dog Firch won't be getting his supper this evening.”
    A brutish figure named Grot thought. His face was ugly as if carved by a poor carpenter. Scars ran down both sides of his cheek, colored grotesquely purple
    in the cold and moist weather and his lips were a mesh of cracks and blood, something he shared with the other three.
    In all, they looked like a rough bandit party, short blades and knives tucked into their thick leather belts.
    “You, get some firewood and you two go tend to the horses!” Grot didn't know the other three well enough to memorize their names, but it didn't matter.
    They knew him and he was in command. The men scattered and with cloaks and coats held up over their head against the wind, they did as they were told.
    .......
     
  2. anonymous

    anonymous the king

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    is there a thing you don`t do?!
    -_-
     
  3. PerFolmer

    PerFolmer Citizen of Urth.

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    Hahaha, I was so nervous posting this.
    There's seems to be a lot of authors roaming these forums
    and a bunch of talented writers as well.
     
  4. anonymous

    anonymous the king

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    what to be nervous for?
    most of write as hobby, some as living :p

    some good,some better :D

    but there is nothing to be shy of :)

    we are anonymous, we are legion, we do not judge :p
     
  5. PerFolmer

    PerFolmer Citizen of Urth.

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    +10000
    Superb
     
  6. S.J. Faerlind

    S.J. Faerlind Flashlight Shadowhunter

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    the cat is wise!
    Don't be shy about posting your writing Per we'd love to read it. :)