Part 2: Eyes in the DarkThe ruined tower was a cylinder of firelight. Flickering red light poured from the top, as if it were some great roman candle built of stone. It was strongly visible against the night sky. Alan the bricklayer's son crept closer. He clutched a burlap sack, which contained – aside from the clothes on his back – all of the possessions he owned. It was mostly empty. He ducked lower into the grass, realizing that if this wasn't what he thought it was, it was probably a group of bandits. If it was bandits, they might have archers watching from the broken tower walls. If it was what he thought it was, however... HePart 2: Eyes in the Dark
Part 1: The Orange Army“I'm here to help,” said the stranger. Eyod the brickmaker put down his sack and turned around. There was a young man standing there. He was thin, high-cheekboned, and had flowing dark hair – probably an elf, not to mention that his ears were pointed. He was wearing simple travel clothes, and carried a pack and staff. He looked curious and eager. “Who're you?” asked Eyod, gruffly. The elf didn't answer immediately, but instead paused to reflect. Eyod waited impatiently for only a moment.Part 1: The Orange Army
“Forget yer own name, boy?” he demanded. “It isn't a mat
Dfaran's Head
In Whiche Our Hero Reaches an Greatere Age
Happy
(link is not fraudulent)
...therefore, I can clearly not choose the glass in front of me.
I just have to say it because people are rather wary of links on their front pages now.
But now that I know you may have poisoned one of the glasses in front of us, I clearly cannot choose the glass in front of me...or you. T^T
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And you wonder why you keep running out of cookies...
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