My down time project...

[epicseeker]

So... For the last 2 years, in what down time I have, I have been working on a novel based in a world created more than 20yrs ago for table top gaming. I have been curious what other people think about my writing. Be as critical as you like, I am almost impossible to offend. Just bear in mind, that my writing time is almost as limited as my game time. Between working 60+ hours a week, and now having a new family to take up more of my time, so this is a very SLOW process. Anyway... Here is the last excerpt I finished. Hope you all enjoy it.

Ysillebor soared through the air over the vast Plains of Mozroth, his gigantic bulk gliding through the thermal currents gently, as he sped on his way to his master’s next target. Celestria was to fall next to the iron fist of The Sovereign, and The Great Dark One was being sent to ensure it did. He carried the full power of The Dark Master with him, and had been given full permission to crush the pitiful mortals into dust beneath his feet. With a guttural roar, the power of Ysillebor was bared as the life beneath him was smote to ashes by the blast. The city defenders would know he was coming from the display of power, but Ysillebor wanted them to be ready, he wanted to savor their terror and pain, he wanted to feast on every emotion as he laid waste to everything they held dear.
   It wasn’t long before the sprawling city of Celestria came into view on the horizon, and with a booming cough, the huge demon furled his monstrous sable wings into his body and broke into a dive. Falling out of the late afternoon sun, the demon hurtled through the air, the wind howling around the hideous apelike face as he plummeted toward the ground at impossible speeds. At the last possible instant, just as the ground was racing up to meet him, Ysillebor spread his vast wings and, grunting with the effort, checked the speed of his fall. He landed before the wall with a massive blast, his impact leaving a crater nearly as large as Ysillebor himself, and with a gruesome, terrible laughter, the strongest of the Dark Ones strode out of the hole his landing had created.
   The city of Celestria was the largest trading city on this side of the Spears of L’Vosh, it’s huge fifty foot walls dominating the surrounding landscape with the full might of a trading empire backing them. The walls had been whitewashed to gleam in the setting sun, and their fortified strength had even managed to deflect the might of the armies of The Witch Kings. Celestria’s entire bearing was designed to bestow a feeling of awe and almost fear to anyone coming within sight of the massive, sprawling city. Now though, in the face of the master of the Dark Ones, the harbinger of catastrophe, Ysillebor, the bringer of cataclysms, it seemed weak and impossibly ill prepared indeed.
   The defenders of Celestria were scrambling about on top of the wall, none of them sure how they were to handle a demon landing at their doorstep. Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright. The chaos on the top of the wall was like a rare delicacy to the demon, and he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order, and inspire courage in their terrified men. The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as The Iron Lions, for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking for a place only to hide from the terror that now faced them down.
   With a curling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive clawed hand into the small pouch held at his waist. With a satisfied laugh he slowly drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle. The defenders of Celestria looked on in wonder as the enormous fifteen foot tall demon carefully aligned the rings on the ground, almost like a child would settle one of his toys. The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair, as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects, and soon began to pulsate and move with a will of it’s own. The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, his huge lumbering stride seeming to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city. What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders, as they looked on in horror as an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light of the iron disks.
   Khellistwyn Mi’leysrian looked up at the walls of Celestria and a cold, hard, wicked smile spread slowly across the carven features of his face, as he looked upon the first conquest of his new war. The army at his back numbered three thousand, all of them highly trained, and hardened in the fires of battle, and he knew this pitiful city was going to prove no match for the might unleashed against it.
   “This should prove a much needed diversion.” he said, his voice almost pleasant and conversational considering they were about to lay siege to a city who’s defenders outnumbered them two to one. “Be sure you breach the temple before the demon gets there. Be sure there are no survivors, Xorvog would be greatly pleased by that.” he finished as he turned to look at his lieutenant, giving him a dark, sadistic smile as they both thought of the pleasure killing priests would bring them.
   Lifting the mighty flanged mace over his head, Khellistwyn let a roar rip from his throat, as the whole of his army looked on, he brought the awesome might of The Black Flame to bear against the nearly impenetrable gates of Celestria. With a savage and powerful downward swing he slammed it’s head into the dry, parched dirt surrounding the city. A shockwave sped away before him, leading the way for a pulsing wave of Non-Light that streaked forth toward the gigantic oaken gates.  Khellistwyn smiled, as the hush descended upon both the defenders and his army as well, as they braced for the inevitable impact.
   A deafening explosion ripped through the enormous city, and a shockwave of  destruction slammed into everything within one hundred yards of the city gates. With a collective groan of despair and anguish The Iron Lions watched as their most potent defense against the enormous army at their walls, was torn from its gigantic hinges and blasted into nothingness. The dust began to settle as the defenders scrambled to form ranks at the yawning breach. None of them however, were prepared for the terror they now faced, as Ysillebor stormed through the gaping aperture. The fifteen foot behemoth stormed the hastily formed phalanx, his spear like claws tearing through shields, armor and flesh as if it were nothing to him. Roaring in glee The Great Dark One splintered the defensive formations as surely as a wave crashing into the shores, and with a cry of despair the few remaining men of in the phalanx fled at a dead run from the horror that was Ysillebor unleashed.
   Khellistwyn stood stone faced, as he watched the terrible demon wreak havoc within the city gate, his eyes dispassionately scanning the carnage, and broken bodies of the men who tried valiantly to stop the mighty beast. He knew that the demon would soften the defenses enough for him to lead his men into Celestria and mop up, and so with a distant look of boredom, he stood passively and watched. He had been impressed with the rush of the Dark One into the breach, but it did little to spark his interests, he was almost disappointed with The Iron Lions, and how easily they were being beaten aside.  Their reputation had been cemented during the war of The Witch Kings, when they turned the invasion force back after a two year siege, but it seemed to Khellistwyn, they had been resting on their laurels for far too long.
   A tremendous blast rocked through the wasted gate of the city, and Khellistwyn snapped his attention back to the battle, as Ysillebor staggered out of the darkness beyond, smoke streaming from his thick, grey hide as a quartet of blue robed wizards followed him through the breach. In unison they began chanting another powerful spell as they slowly began to circle around the gigantic demon, their arms working through the complex casting, as their voices reached an almost fever pitch. Their arms came together in front of them in deafening clap, as a thunderous blast rocked the earth beneath the demon, and a column of lightning rocked down from the skies and struck Ysillebor sending the huge demon flying back toward the massed Dark Elf contingent. He landed in a tumbled heap of wings, and smoke as he skidded toward Khellistwyn, digging a huge furrow into the earth as he slid.
   A roar of defiance and rage exploded from the yawning breach of Celestria’s walls, and with a vigor and confidence that gave mettle to their name, The Iron Lions poured out of their city, one thousand defenders strong, their armor and weapons gleaming in the dying light of the late autumn day. They fell like an avalanche, sweeping down a mountainside, onto the Dark Elves, screaming challenges as they came on, ready to die if need be in the defense of their city.
   At the head of the charge one man stood out amongst the rest, standing taller, and yelling louder than any around him, his field plate gleaming with an unearthly glow, and his eyes alight with an almost zealot like blaze. He came at Khellistwyn, the standard of Dracon’s thrice broken ring held aloft in his left hand, his mighty broadsword in his right, as a man possessed. The paladin smiled as he recognized the challenge before him, and with a prayer to his god on his lips he crashed headlong into the massed Dark Elves, his sword singing as he cleaved his way deep into the ranks of his enemies.
   Sir Osric was a man of faith and a man of steel, one of only ten paladins throughout the entirety of the Church, he knew he had been blessed to have the skills and might that Dracon granted him. He knew also that it was not a holy warrior’s place to die meekly, waiting in bed as an old man, he knew he would never see his children grow up, but as he led his valiant, and determined men into battle against an enemy they knew they could not beat, he prayed only that his sacrifice would be enough to ensure his children would grow up. His sword, Defiant gleamed in the cold light of his holy rage, as he chopped his way through the ranks of Dark Elves that tried to stand in his way. The holy protection gained from his station allowed him to deflect, or shrug off blows that would have otherwise surely killed him, and his armor absorbed even more, and even when he had suffered wounds so numerous and terrible that any other warrior would have  collapsed, his faith bolstered him yet again.
   Bloody, beaten, and gasping for air, his face spattered with the blood of his enemies, and his armor rent, and in many places falling off completely from damage, Sir Osric broke through the ring of defenders surrounding Khellistwyn, the standard of the thrice broken ring, closing with the dark banner of The Black Flame. Osric smiled grimly as he planted the banner of Dracon firmly in the ground, and locked eyes with Khellistwyn and in a slow salute brought Defiant up in recognition that this was to be a fight to the death, no quarter was to be given, and none was to be expected. Khellistwyn returned the salute with his great flanged mace, and with a grim nod, he rushed in to attack the gruesomely wounded paladin, roaring a battle cry and swinging the heavy club in a vicious arc.
   Osric parried the blow, spinning the mace out harmlessly and countering with a quick double handed slash at the unprotected ribs of the Dark Elf. The enchanted blade swept in to cleave it’s target in twain, but at the last instant, it was deflected as a nearly transparent nimbus of energy swirled about Khellistwyn’s body. With a grunt Osric was thrust back, staggering and panting at the impact, by the power of The Black Flame. Smiling wickedly, his auburn eyes slowly shifting to black, Khellistwyn attacked once again, his mace flying in so swiftly that Osric could barely follow it. With a cry of pain and disbelief Osric was sent spinning as the flanged head of the mace smashed into the crease of his breast plate, knocking the wind from him, and planting him on his back several feet from the Dark Elf.
   With a grunt and nursing some obviously broken ribs, Osric regained his feet and spun in time to deflect yet another savage blow from the mace. Defiant sang as it knocked the weapon high and wide, and with a mighty roar, Osric planted his armored right foot into the stomach of Khellistwyn, the nimbus failing to protect it’s master, and sent him reeling. With a shout of exhilaration the mighty paladin was again on the offensive, as he followed the staggering Dark Elf swinging Defiant with everything he had remaining in him. Khellistwyn heard the sickening crunch of his armor being shredded under the attack, and let loose a terrible roar as he felt his skin rent open with the savage slice.
   Responding to it’s master’s cry, The Black Flame swept down the blade of Defiant, striking Osric with the force of a hammer and blasting him backward, a cry of pain and disbelief being torn from him as he flew. He landed in a jumble of arms and legs, groaning in pain and coughing up blood, as his wounds shrieked at him, but still Osric, The Hammer of Justice, Osric The Implacable, The Heart of The Iron Lions, refused to be bested. With a wail of pain and defiance, Osric forced himself back to his feet, and lifting his head to the sky, and fanning his arms out to his sides he cried his final words to the heavens.
   “For Dracon!” He yelled as he brought Defiant back to battle ready, and with a sneer of contempt for his adversary, and a gleam of a quality Khellistwyn could not understand in his eyes, he charged back across the field at his enemy.
   Khellistwyn could not understand what was in Osric’s head, since he himself had never felt compassion or love. He therefore could not understand noble sacrifice, and had no idea what it was that Osric hoped to achieve. With an unbelieving sigh, the Dark Elf rushed back toward the nearly crazed paladin, swinging his great flanged mace, as Osric swung Defiant. The weapons met with a clash heard over the entire battle field, their masters grunting in pain and disbelief at the jarring impact. As the two mighty opponents struggled and heaved, their weapons locked in titanic struggle, Khellistwyn began to feel the presence of something otherworldly. A look of shock and reverence passed over Osric’s face as the embossed holy symbols of his armored gauntlets erupted into an azure flame. The deep blue intensified until both Osric and Khellistwyn were forced to avert their eyes from the blinding light.
   With a silent detonation, the nimbus of light surrounding the combatants exploded into a shower of sparks, sending both staggering backward. Osric regained his balance as he drew a shuddering, yet somehow cleansing breath deep into his lungs, and with a shock he realized that all of the pain from his heinous wounds was gone. Khellistwyn came to rest as the strength was sapped from his body, and with a trembling step, fell to his knees. He took an exhausted breath, as he fought to remain conscious, the world about him spinning and fading into and out of focus. With a retching heave, a spray of blood erupted out of his mouth, and with a cold twist deep within his stomach he realized that every reserve of strength and energy he had at his vast disposal, was completely drained.
   Osric smiled coldly at his enemy, and with a slow move, brought Defiant in front of his handsome, chiseled face in salute one last time in recognition of yet another slain enemy. With a roar of victory on his lips, the mighty paladin charged back at Khellistwyn, his broadsword leading in with a great thrust. Khellistwyn watched as his death descended upon him, shouting his disbelief at the situation, as his eyes focused on the gleaming blade of Defiant as it fell in a glittering arc. Gritting his teeth, a yell torn from deep within his chest, Khellistwyn summoned the last vestiges of The Black Flame in the hopes of it saving his life from the terrible foe he now faced.
   The glowing, pulsating non-light flickered feebly as it surrounded his hands in a meager shell of protection, and with the last ounce of strength remaining in his body Khellistwyn clamped his hands around the blade of Defiant, stopping its fall, and keeping him alive for one more moment. The paladin and the Dark Elf surged back and forth, Osric trying to crush the kneeling form of his enemy, Khellistwyn trying vainly to regain his feet. Both were suddenly swept aside as a blast wave of raw, unchecked energy swept over the entire battle field, and a roar of unimaginable might flattened the combatants on both sides like blades of grass before a high wind.
   Ysillebor stood alone on the fields of Celestria, the wizards that had kept his terrible might in check lay smoking and destroyed, having been smothered by the powerful magic of Dark Elf sorcerers. The horrible smoldering eyes of The Great Dark One scanned the field, looking for someone or something to vent his unending wrath upon. They came to rest on the holy warrior struggling back to his feet, the gleaming armor scorched and ruined, his freshly healed skin once again torn and bleeding from the powerful blast of Ysillebor’s roar. Osric took a weak step forward, his limbs barely strong enough to support him, as he struggled to raise his sword once more, and fell to one  knee, the strength sapped from him by the fury of the blast.
   Ysillebor smiled wickedly as his enormous wings spread and with a powerful beat of their thirty foot span, he took to the air streaking toward the paladin. The enormous hands of the demon closed upon the exposed back of Sir Osric, and with a shriek of rending metal, closed on the holy warrior. The mighty paladin let loose a wail of agony, as the spear like claws tore into his flesh sending huge gouts of blood spraying through the air, and with a mighty thrust from his wings Ysillebor soared off still clutching the shrieking paladin.
   Landing atop the fifty foot height of Celestria’s walls, the flailing, screaming form of Sir Osric clutched contemptuously in his clawed fist Ysillebor let loose a roar that boomed out across the whole of the city. With a child like glee the terrible demon raised the ashen, dying face of Sir Osric to be eye to eye with his own and grinned, the fetid breath choking Osric with it foul stench. The jutting lower fangs slathered hot drool across the stone of the wall as the smile widened even further, and almost purring with pleasure and glee, Ysillebor’s other enormous hand closed about the head and face of the struggling paladin. Osric’s screams intensified into shrieks of unbearable agony, and with a huge booming cough Ysillebor wrenched his arms apart. The hot blood of Sir Osric sprayed across his face as he mercilessly tore the head of the paladin from his body. Lifting the broken corpse above him, Ysillebor boomed out yet another roar as he held his trophy aloft for all of The Iron Lions to see, and with a careless toss, he dropped the lifeless body to the ground fifty feet below.
   A collective wail broke from the embattled defenders outside the mighty walls, and the few remaining survivors, abruptly breaking off their valiant fight, rushed to the body of their fallen captain determined that he would not be left outside of the city. As the handful of faithful soldiers remaining alive reached their fallen commander, one among them, a young man, perhaps twenty years old, lifted the destroyed body onto his shoulders, and with a grim set to his face began to sprint to the gaping aperture in Celestria’s wall. The Iron Lions prided themselves on valor, and as a single unit the ten men left of the thousand that had charged the plain, harassed by the Dark Elven army every step of the way, brought the Heart of The Lions back to the city. The attackers ran headlong into the prepared and battle hardened Prime Phalanx and were quickly stymied as they tried to force the breach once again. Of the thousand that had charged the field under the banner of Osric, four, wounded, bloody, and grim men made it back into the city.


****

      Vyleth stood in the ruined market square, looking with smug satisfaction at the rubble and destruction the combined forces of Human barbarians, Orcs, and her own Dark Elves had wrought upon the surface level of Arcadia. The army had taken four days to breach the walls of the mighty coastal city, losing nearly two hundred soldiers in the process. She knew however that that was a reasonable number when she considered they had killed perhaps three times that many defenders. The battle had raged without end for nearly two full days, since they had succeeded in breaching the walls, it had turned into a morass of guerrilla fighting, as the gnomish and dwarven enclaves came to the aid of their human allies. They had forced the superior army of The Sovereign to pay dearly for every step forward they took.
   The surface level of the huge port city was completely under Vyleth’s control, and she looked on in pride at the destruction they had wrought. Everywhere she looked buildings burned or lay in ruins, the fires raged in quarters unchecked, and the destruction was nearly complete. An Orcish runner came skidding to a halt in front of her, it’s face streaked with soot and sweat, holding a field report. With a slightly fearful look on it’s face it turned over the folded sheet of parchment to the impatient High Priestess, and before being dismissed began backing away, it’s eyes never leaving Vyleth, looking for any sign that she might be displeased. Few lived to tell the tale of a time they attracted the ire of a Dark Elven high priestess, and this particular Orc did not wish to test his luck.
   Vyleth scanned the letter, her hazel eyes hardening, and her fists clenching on the edges of the parchment as she read. The fools, she thought as she stalked off toward the center of the city, they cant even be trusted to accomplish something as simple as breaching a fortification. With a disgusted look at the simpering Orc that had brought her the message as she passed, she changed her direction to the center of the city, and the huge stair that lead down to the subterranean levels of the giant port. She walked through the wreckage of one of the largest cities on this side of the world, and though it brought her pleasure to think she had caused it, the bloodlust she carried was hardly slaked.
   It took perhaps half an hour to make her way to the small walled off building in the center of a large central hub in the middle of the city. The building was perhaps fifty feet square, with a twenty foot high wall surrounding it. The single gate acting as a portal to and from the bulky building had been sealed with a heavy iron portcullis, and the forces of The Sovereign had been unable to breach the meager fortification in the ten hours they had been hurling themselves at it. With a sneer of contempt, Vyleth strode to the front of her assembled army, her purple and wine red robes billowing behind her in the cooling wind carried in from the bay perhaps a half mile away. Lifting her flawless, almost preternaturally beautiful face to the sky, Vyleth began casting a spell, the jerky motions of the incantation causing her to almost dance through the ritual. Her lithe, exquisitely formed body became drenched in sweat as the power of the spell flowed through her, causing the robes to cling to her frame, accentuating the obviously female form beneath. Her breasts heaved as the power of the casting built within her body, and with a cry of ecstasy she arched her back in a spasm like motion as a pulsing red light erupted out from her body.
   The light of the spell pulsed and grew, becoming so bright the soldiers of both armies were forced to shield their eyes. With a convulsive heave Vyleth brought her arms in to her chest, and with a cry of pain mixed with a pleasure few in the armies looking on would ever experience, she released the energy of the ritual in a tidal wave of raw energy. With a huge explosion of force and sound, the pulsing red nimbus of energy roared out, expanding it’s dimensions until the entire plaza was bathed in it’s light. As fast as it had expanded, it once again contracted rushing back upon itself, condensing until all of its pulsating and roiling energy was contained in a pinprick of pure energy.
   With a sinister smile, and a look of contempt at the few defenders atop the small wall, Vyleth smashed the single point of light to the ground, screaming the final word of the ritual as she did. Stone and mortar began to rumble, as the sky began to darken and swirl, jagged streaks of lightning flashed across the sky as the pinprick of light slowly began to expand across the cobble stoned plaza. Without warning, nor sound a hideously malformed, four fingered claw exploded out of the swirling portal of energy. The horrendous claw latched onto the stone and with the terrible shrieking of fingernails on a chalkboard, began to haul the enormous bulk of the creature attached to it, through the extra dimensional gate now fully formed on the ground before Vyleth.
   The hideous elongated face broke through the portal, it’s gaping jagged maw filled with row upon row of twisted, hook like teeth, as it’s gleaming black multifaceted eyes glared at the defenders on the low wall. The scaly green hide bulged with twisted muscles and thick ropey sinew as the terrible creature pulled its ten foot frame free of the yawning portal. The Reaper Demon stood, hunched and malformed before the massed army of The Sovereign, the foul odor of rotting flesh permeating the air surrounding it as it awaited the order to attack. Vyleth pointed a slender, almost perfect finger at the huge portcullis and with a sadistic gleam in her eyes shouted her order.
   “Kill them all!” she screamed, her voice nearly vibrating with the ecstasy of the expectant slaughter. Vyleth pushed the long, flowing white hair out of her face as she watched on in wicked pleasure as the demon charged the defenses.
   The Reaper Demon let loose a roar that sounded vaguely like the gurgling of a drowning man mixed with the dry rasping of a death rattle, and with a trembling of the earth beneath it’s enormous bulk charged the huge iron gate. The terrified defenders fired down upon it, the slings and arrows bouncing harmlessly off the magically armored hide of the demon, with little effect. The enormous clawed forelimbs of the Reaper closed around the iron bars of the portcullis with a grinding shriek piercing the air, it began to dismantle the gate bar by bar. The monstrous demon heaved against the forged metal, the muscles beneath the abominable hide jumping and popping as it pitted it’s nearly endless strength against the strength of the portcullis.
   Beyond the gate, in the small plaza in front of the blocky building, Stolin Stonehammer, captain of the Dwarven enclave within Arcadia watched in horror as he saw the terrible arm of the Reaper Demon breach the defenses. With a shocked expression on his broad, bearded face he looked on as the hideous bulk of the demon began to tear the portcullis from it’s moorings.
   Turning to his second in command he roared a command, “Get th’ Butcher Boys up ’ere now!” his rough, accented voice tore through the commotion around him, with the surety of a scythe through wheat. With a second thought on his mind he turned to the green robed man standing next to him, “Ya think ya kin han’le thes till th’ boys get ’ere?” he asked the enigmatic wizard Richtov.
   The sorcerer turned a calm face to the stoic dwarf and in a voice that seemed grossly out of place on a battle field he replied, “There is nothing I can do to stop this behemoth,” and with a shrug of his lean shoulders as he turned his eerily calm face back to the wreckage of the portcullis, “But I can slow it down, at least for a while.” he finished as he slowly pulled the robes off of his shoulders and began the complicated series of gestures that would complete a massive spell.
   With a roar of triumph the Reaper Demon heaved backward, throwing all of it’s massive weight into the pull, and with the terrible screech of metal breaking loose, it lifted the shattered gate into the air above it’s head. A roar erupted from the massed army of Dark Elves and Orcs as the huge demon tossed the twisted heap of wreckage aside, and started through the yawning cavity in the wall. It’s terrible multifaceted eyes scanned the nearly deserted plaza, as it slouched through the arch within the wall, looking for the flesh it craved to sate it’s unquenchable hunger.
   Richtov looked up from his ritual, his face strained from the effort of the spell, his thin arms continuing to wave through the air as he tried to desperately finish the casting. The Reaper took one huge, heavy step toward the pitiful mortal that dared to stand in it’s path, it’s terrible maw gaping wide as hot drool fell hissing from it’s jagged teeth pitting the cobblestones of the plaza as it came. It unleashed it’s terrible roar once again as it closed within yards of Richtov, the sound washing over the visibly shaking wizard with a force all it’s own. Richtov however seemed unfazed as with a roar all his own, he spread his arms in front of him, and fanning his hands out before him, unleashed a torrent of blue flame from his palms.
   The flames roared forth through the air, blasting into the chest of the Reaper, slamming it backward, sending it staggering out through the opening in the wall. The victorious cheer of the attackers died in their throats as the huge demon reeled back, smoke billowing from its chest as the fire continued to assault it. A wail of agony tore from the demon’s throat as it staggered to a halt, refusing to budge against the unchecked onslaught of the flames. With a grunting step the Reaper Demon forced itself to move forward once again, the flames licking up it’s scaled chest and face, as Richtov threw more and more of his energy into sustaining the spell.
   Step by step, the mighty demon forced itself back through the archway, the pain nearly blinding it, as it’s world contracted to the pitiful mortal that thought it could stand before it’s unassailable power. Richtov was slowly pushed back, the heels of his boots digging into the cobblestones as he tried vainly to keep the demon at bay. Gritting his teeth and screaming his defiance at the horror closing in on him, the powerful wizard fanned his arms around himself, seeming almost to dance as he called on the last reserves of power he possessed. In a thunderous detonation he clapped his hands together and linked his fingers, concentrating the power of his spell into one titanic pillar of fire that engulfed the entire upper body of the Reaper in searing blue flame.
   The demon unleashed a terrible wail of pain as it was bathed in the roiling flames, but still it kept coming toward Richtov. The wizard screamed, and the demon roared, as the distance between them was reduced to several feet, still the sorcerer refused to be driven back, and with a last concussive heave, he released every ounce of strength left to him. The fireball could be seen over the wall of the plaza, and through most of the city for that matter, the cataclysmic shockwave rolled over everything within several hundred yards, as Richtov sacrificed himself for the city he had embraced as his own. The Reaper Demon staggered and fell, it’s flesh searing and splitting where the tremendous energies released in the blast rolled over it, it’s flesh ruined and smoking as it wailed yet again as pain unlike anything it could remember spread throughout it’s body. Richtov’s body sailed through the air, the wasted and charred corpse flying as a feather carried on a coastal breeze, a calm serenity engraved on the blackened and burned face, and landed without ceremony at the feet of seven of the gnarliest looking Dwarves to ever walk the breadth of Drachonaria.
   Belthisar Butcher’Block, and his crew, known as The Butcher Boys stared in shock at the man they had regarded as a friend and fellow defender, as his body lay twisted and burnt at their feet. Their scarred, painted faces cast looks of rage and hate at the demon, and the massed army beyond it, and began to shout obscenities in Dwarven at both. Unlike most Dwarves, The Butcher Boys did not keep their beards, in fact they looked at it as an insult if someone complimented them on facial hair, and they shaved their heads to proudly display the course, and some nearly pornographic, tattoos and scars that adorned their skulls. Dressed in nothing but loincloths, the seven Dwarves began to scream in unintelligible grunts and roars, as they clawed at their skin and faces and started at a dead run across the twenty yards of open courtyard.
   Few among the massed armies outside the gate had ever seen a Valkyrian and had lived to tell the tale of their encounter, and none of them were prepared for the sight, as the Dwarven berserkers entered the change. The Butcher Boys screamed in ecstasy and pain as their skin began to tear, and joints began to pop and realign, plates of dull grey armor began bulge through the rents in their skin as their faces began to elongate and rip apart and reform into hideous metal masks. Blood and skin littered the courtyard as The Butcher Boys continued their charge toward death and glory, their screams took on a shrill pitch and seemed to continue without end as the long jagged blades began to extend out of the crease of their bracers, and still they did not stop their run.
   The seven creatures were born of the darkest part of the onlookers nightmares, unflinching, unerring, and uncaring who or what they fell upon, so long as their innate rage could be quenched in the fury of battle. The Valkyrians fell upon the stunned demon like an avalanche falling through a mountain pass, their fury and bloodlust raging as they systematically began to pull the terrible behemoth apart. Their fists fell like hammers bashing the magical skin of the demon, the jagged blades digging huge wounds through the thickened hide, as they were drenched in the hot, sickly sweet smelling blood of the Reaper. The enraged demon tried to defend itself from the sustained onslaught of rage and steel, swinging it’s massive claws at the armor clad nightmares that assaulted it. The Valkyrians felt no pain, and every time they were swatted aside by the enormous demon, they roared all the louder, and pressed the attack with savagery unmatched by even the unearthly power of the Reaper.
   The stunned army of The Sovereign looked on as the seven monstrous devils began to drive the demon back, bleeding and crying out in pain, under their rush of terrible steel. Wailing in pain, and for the first time in millennia fear, the Reaper Demon staggered back, its hot blood burning the ground as it ran in unchecked rivulets down it’s ruined hide. The enormous creature fell backward, through the great archway in the wall, it’s huge bulk crashing to the ground as the Valkyrians continued to swarm over it like a small army of ants attacking their prey. With a final wail of terrible anguish and pain the demon shuddered, and in an eruption of light and smoke ceased to be, as the nightmarish Dwarves scrambled over it’s remains.
   Not satisfied with the destruction of the Reaper Demon, The Butcher Boys screamed out their fury and with a seemingly unchecked vigor charged headlong into the massed forces before them. The seven armor clad, and berserk, Dwarves crashed into their enemies with a savagery that sent the front ranks of the assembled forces reeling back in chaos. Fists flew, and Dark Elves and Orcs screamed in agony as the fury that were The Butcher Boys fell on them like a tidal wave of rage and steel. The confusion lasted only a few moments though as the discipline of the Dark Elves, and savage brute force of the Orcish troops began to flood over the seven berserk Dwarves. Out numbered literally, several hundred to one, the sheer numbers of The Sovereign’s army began to swarm over the terrible force of the Valkyrians.
   Wounds grizzly enough to fell a foe several times over accumulated, and their blood ran freely into the streets of Arcadia, but still The Butcher Boys fought on, refusing to be beaten, and seeming to feel nothing of the pain being inflicted on them. The Butcher Boys had a motto among their small band, Ya fight till there be no fight left in ya!, and this day they put those words to the true test, the bodies of their fallen foes littered the square, and still their rage would not be played out. They bled from wounds so gruesome that it made their attackers flinch at the sight, and still they continued as if fresh from the reserves, and they died as the heroes of a city they had come to call a second home. Forever after that day, the square where The Butcher Boys fought to the last, would be known as The Plaza of Seven, in recognition of the glorious deaths they had striven so hard to achieve.
   The army of The Sovereign stood, stunned and silent, as they looked at the trail of wreckage the seven Valkyrians had left in their terrible charge. Surrounding the dead dwarves in every direction, and with a trail leading from the walls to where they fell, were the bodies of nearly two hundred Dark Elves, and Orcs. Never before had they seen such carnage, and never had they witnessed such utter brutality from an enemy. The Dwarves had shrugged off wounds that should have killed them, and still fought, their heart never leaving the battle. And what shook them the most perhaps, was the thought of having to face still more of these monsters born of nightmares.


****

[Ky]

who the fck is gonna read that fkin essay

[epicseeker]

who the fck is gonna read that fkin essay

Clearly someone with a better grasp of language, diction, and grammar than you. Nice try on insulting me though.

[scxclfbdnkgw]

who the fck is gonna read that fkin essay

you have some serious problems

[Lexmau]

Clearly someone with a better grasp of language, diction, and grammar than you. Nice try on insulting me though.

+1 ppl so brain slow to read

[eel stirfry]

who the fck is gonna read that fkin essay

hi how r u gud yea

So... For the last 2 years, in what down time I have, I have been working on a novel based in a world created more than 20yrs ago for table top gaming. I have been curious what other people think about my writing. Be as critical as you like, I am almost impossible to offend. Just bear in mind, that my writing time is almost as limited as my game time. Between working 60+ hours a week, and now having a new family to take up more of my time, so this is a very SLOW process. Anyway... Here is the last excerpt I finished. Hope you all enjoy it.

ooooo
"be as critical as you like"
Oooooooooooooooooo
also this is pretty good from the little I've read (and reread and reread) so far
also, essentially, I am not completely sure about any edits i'm suggesting & all my edited spellings are in Canadian/British english because hah. hah. hah.

Ysillebor soared through the air over the vast Plains of Mozroth, his gigantic bulk gliding through the thermal currents gently, as he sped on his way to his master’s next target. Celestria was to fall next to the iron fist of The Sovereign, and The Great Dark One was being sent to ensure it did. He carried the full power of The Dark Master with him, and had been given full permission to crush the pitiful mortals into dust beneath his feet. With a guttural roar, the power of Ysillebor was bared as the life beneath him was smote to ashes by the blast. The city defenders would know he was coming from the display of power, but Ysillebor wanted them to be ready, he wanted to savor their terror and pain, he wanted to feast on every emotion as he laid waste to everything they held dear.

1) That red & bold comma-are you sure it's necessary?

2) "He carried the full power of The Dark Master with him" I dunno, but maybe try "within him"? I don't exactly know the effect you're searching for (seeing as I've only read, like, this paragraph so far) though.

3) " With a guttural roar, the power of Ysillebor was bared as the life beneath him was smote to ashes by the blast." It seems to me (seems is the important word in this sentence ijs) that it's rather..detached, I suppose, from the previous sentence, and that it doesn't flow as well as it could? Idk, I think you could maybe add a "Then" to the beginning-"Then, with a guttural roar, the power of Ysillebor was bared as the life beneath him was smote to ashes by the blast."

4) "The defenders of the city" instead of the "city defenders".

5) " but Ysillebor wanted them to be ready, he wanted to savor their terror and pain, he wanted to feast on every emotion as he laid waste to everything they held dear." I think some of those "he"s are unnecessary. Also I inserted a hyphen. Ex. "but Ysillebor wanted them to be ready-he wanted to savour their terror and pain, to feast on every emotion as he laid waste to everything they held dear." I'm also debating suggesting some edits to the "every emotion" part (that is, debating to myself), however, I think I'll leave that part atm.

there's 1 block down
many to go
ho ho ho ho ho

[eel stirfry]

i'm posting these separately for personal organization purposes mk
also there may be some other parts that I personally would change however I shan't do that here mainly because I'm doing grammatical stuff kinda.
I'm numbering the paragraphs so that it's easier to find stuff out of the ones that i've pasted here, not your total paras
ugh what is this font even

   It wasn't long before the sprawling city of Celestria came into view on the horizon, and with a booming cough, the huge demon furled his monstrous sable wings into his body and broke into a dive. Falling out of the late afternoon sun, the demon hurtled through the air, the wind howling around the hideous apelike face as he plummeted toward the ground at impossible speeds. At the last possible instant, just as the ground was racing up to meet him, Ysillebor spread his vast wings and, grunting with the effort, checked the speed of his fall. He landed before the wall with a massive blast, his impact leaving a crater nearly as large as Ysillebor himself, and with a gruesome, terrible laughter, the strongest of the Dark Ones strode out of the hole his landing had created.

   The city of Celestria was the largest trading city on this side of the Spears of L’Vosh, it’s huge fifty foot walls dominating the surrounding landscape with the full might of a trading empire backing them. The walls had been whitewashed to gleam in the setting sun, and their fortified strength had even managed to deflect the might of the armies of The Witch Kings. Celestria’s entire bearing was designed to bestow a feeling of awe and almost fear to anyone coming within sight of the massive, sprawling city. Now though, in the face of the master of the Dark Ones, the harbinger of catastrophe, Ysillebor, the bringer of cataclysms, it seemed weak and impossibly ill prepared indeed.

 The defenders of Celestria were scrambling about on top of the wall, none of them sure how they were to handle a demon landing at their doorstep. Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright. The chaos on the top of the wall was like a rare delicacy to the demon, and he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order, and inspire courage in their terrified men. The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as The Iron Lions, for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking for a place only to hide from the terror that now faced them down.

   With a curling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive clawed hand into the small pouch held at his waist. With a satisfied laugh he slowly drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle. The defenders of Celestria looked on in wonder as the enormous fifteen foot tall demon carefully aligned the rings on the ground, almost like a child would settle one of his toys. The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair, as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects, and soon began to pulsate and move with a will of it’s own. The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, his huge lumbering stride seeming to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city. What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders, as they looked on in horror as an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light of the iron disks.

1) " it’s huge fifty foot walls". Use "its" instead of "it's", since its possession and not "it is". Para 2.
2) Imo I'd put a now before a sentence-"Now, the defenders of Celestria were scrambling about on top of the wall", para 3, but that's just my choice.
3) " Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright."
I don't think this flows quite write, so I'd either rewrite it as "Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sending shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright", or "Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, and the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable gray hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright." IF you do deign to take my advice, I'd recommend the first variation, primarily because you use "and" again in the sentence.
4) "he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order, and inspire courage in their terrified men. " I think that comma is redundant. "he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order and inspire courage in their terrified men."

5) "The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as The Iron Lions, for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking for a place only to hide from the terror that now faced them down."
I'd rewrite that sentence as, "The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as the Iron Lions for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking only for a place to hide from the terror that was now facing them."
I think that flows better tbh.

6) "With a curling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive clawed hand into the small pouch held at his waist. With a satisfied laugh he slowly drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle. " You started 2 sentences with "with", which probably isn't that great of an idea. Also, the curling part of the sneer is rather vague. Umm..lesee. The replacement of the word curling isn't necessary tho i like the touch but eh thats my opinion : P.
"With a bloodcurdling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive, clawed hand into the small pouch that was held at his waist/that had been tied to/secured to his waist. Slowly, he drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle-laughing in satisfaction throughout the process/through the entire process."

7) "The defenders of Celestria looked on in wonder." Only in wonder? Possibly "in terrified wonder", "in paralyzed wonder", idk, something else maybe?? who knows

8 ) "almost like a child would settle one of his toys." I ... really do not agree with that usage of the word "settle". To me, it doesn't read correctly-however, you might have a different opinion; if so; ignore this. I'd do something like "almost like how a child would set down one of his toys." (I also added a "how" there, huehuehue.)

9) "The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair, as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects, and soon began to pulsate and move with a will of it’s own." I'd remove one of those commas, I think. And change some other stuff. "The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects-which soon began to pulsate and move with a will of its own." There, use "its" instead of "it's" as well-possessive usage, not "it is."

10) doing this as a chunk because lol
"The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, his huge lumbering stride seeming to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city. What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders, as they looked on in horror as an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light of the iron disks."
Right, so. I'd change the first sentence of that to "The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, and his huge, lumbering stride seemed to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city." I added an "and" a comma. I'd recommend you add the comma, but the changing of the seeming into seemed and adding the and is optional kinda? I like it better but eh.
Next, I'd separate that second sentence into two. So: "What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders. As they looked on in horror, an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light emitting from the iron disks." Changed some other stuff too eheh.

yeah i might get to some more of this later

[epicseeker]

i'm posting these separately for personal organization purposes mk
also there may be some other parts that I personally would change however I shan't do that here mainly because I'm doing grammatical stuff kinda.
I'm numbering the paragraphs so that it's easier to find stuff out of the ones that i've pasted here, not your total paras
ugh what is this font even

1) " it’s huge fifty foot walls". Use "its" instead of "it's", since its possession and not "it is". Para 2.
2) Imo I'd put a now before a sentence-"Now, the defenders of Celestria were scrambling about on top of the wall", para 3, but that's just my choice.
3) " Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright."
I don't think this flows quite write, so I'd either rewrite it as "Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, the sensations sending shivers of pure glee through his abominable grey hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright", or "Ysillebor could feel their fear and panic, and the sensations sent shivers of pure glee through his abominable gray hide, and with a terrible roar he watched as several men literally fell dead from fright." IF you do deign to take my advice, I'd recommend the first variation, primarily because you use "and" again in the sentence.
4) "he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order, and inspire courage in their terrified men. " I think that comma is redundant. "he chuckled to himself as the officers of the city guard tried futilely to restore order and inspire courage in their terrified men."

5) "The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as The Iron Lions, for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking for a place only to hide from the terror that now faced them down."
I'd rewrite that sentence as, "The soldiers of Celestria, known throughout the world as the Iron Lions for their courage and fortitude, scrambled haphazardly looking only for a place to hide from the terror that was now facing them."
I think that flows better tbh.

6) "With a curling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive clawed hand into the small pouch held at his waist. With a satisfied laugh he slowly drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle. " You started 2 sentences with "with", which probably isn't that great of an idea. Also, the curling part of the sneer is rather vague. Umm..lesee. The replacement of the word curling isn't necessary tho i like the touch but eh thats my opinion : P.
"With a bloodcurdling sneer of his gaping, drooling maw, Ysillebor reached his massive, clawed hand into the small pouch that was held at his waist/that had been tied to/secured to his waist. Slowly, he drew out the five iron rings he had been instructed to carry by his master, and began to lay them about him in a crude circle-laughing in satisfaction throughout the process/through the entire process."

7) "The defenders of Celestria looked on in wonder." Only in wonder? Possibly "in terrified wonder", "in paralyzed wonder", idk, something else maybe?? who knows

8 ) "almost like a child would settle one of his toys." I ... really do not agree with that usage of the word "settle". To me, it doesn't read correctly-however, you might have a different opinion; if so; ignore this. I'd do something like "almost like how a child would set down one of his toys." (I also added a "how" there, huehuehue.)

9) "The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair, as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects, and soon began to pulsate and move with a will of it’s own." I'd remove one of those commas, I think. And change some other stuff. "The Iron Lions stared in awe and despair as the final ring was laid, and a sickly green light erupted from the small iron objects-which soon began to pulsate and move with a will of its own." There, use "its" instead of "it's" as well-possessive usage, not "it is."

10) doing this as a chunk because lol
"The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, his huge lumbering stride seeming to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city. What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders, as they looked on in horror as an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light of the iron disks."
Right, so. I'd change the first sentence of that to "The mighty Dark One stepped through the toxic light, and his huge, lumbering stride seemed to shake the very foundations of the great walls of the city." I added an "and" a comma. I'd recommend you add the comma, but the changing of the seeming into seemed and adding the and is optional kinda? I like it better but eh.
Next, I'd separate that second sentence into two. So: "What followed the enormous demon was what truly sapped the spines of the defenders. As they looked on in horror, an army of Dark Elves stepped out of the sickly light emitting from the iron disks." Changed some other stuff too eheh.

yeah i might get to some more of this later

Thanks for the feed back. I'm glad someone took the time to read SOME of it. Like I said I've been working on it for over 2 years. But I only get maybe an hour or so every 2-3 days to sit and write. Most of the time, that explains the gap in flow, because I never really get a chance to truly get INTO writing, before I have to stop again.

[eel stirfry]

Thanks for the feed back. I'm glad someone took the time to read SOME of it. Like I said I've been working on it for over 2 years. But I only get maybe an hour or so every 2-3 days to sit and write. Most of the time, that explains the gap in flow, because I never really get a chance to truly get INTO writing, before I have to stop again.

Ehehe, your welcome C:. I probably would have read more if I wasn't rereading for the feedback/suggestion part and stuff though XD. Also, I see.

Here's another bit of feedback-

Khellistwyn Mi’leysrian looked up at the walls of Celestria and a cold, hard, wicked smile spread slowly across the carven features of his face, as he looked upon the first conquest of his new war. The army at his back numbered three thousand, all of them highly trained, and hardened in the fires of battle, and he knew this pitiful city was going to prove no match for the might unleashed against it.
   “This should prove a much needed diversion.” he said, his voice almost pleasant and conversational considering they were about to lay siege to a city who’s defenders outnumbered them two to one. “Be sure you breach the temple before the demon gets there. Be sure there are no survivors, Xorvog would be greatly pleased by that.” he finished as he turned to look at his lieutenant, giving him a dark, sadistic smile as they both thought of the pleasure killing priests would bring them.

1) Apparently carven gives out to spell check. So carved, or chiseled? Chiseled should work pretty well for the context (i.e. facial features).

2) "Khellistwyn Mi’leysrian looked up at the walls of Celestria and a cold, hard, wicked smile spread slowly across the carven features of his face, as he looked upon the first conquest of his new war." Also for that sentence. You said looked up and then looked upon, maybe try something like: "Khellistwyn Mi'leysrian looked up at the walls of Celestria, and a cold, hard wicked smile spread slowly across the carven/chiseled/carved features of his face--for he was looking upon the first conquest of his new war."

3.
So the rest of the first paragraph I copied:
"The army at is backed numbered three thousand, all of them highly trained and hardened in the fires of battle, and he knew that this pitiful city was going to prove no match for the might that was to be unleashed against it." (I used "was to be" instead of "might unleashed against it", simply because so far, you haven't written the attack of the city, at this point in the story. Also I removed a comma coz i found it redundant ish.) Yes this is the edited ver.

4.
' "This should provide a much needed diversion," he said, his voice almost pleasant and conversational--considering that they were about to lay siege to a city whose defenders outnumbered them two to one.' (This is edited.)
You put a comma after speech like that instead of a period. Examples:

Code: [Select]

"I ate a bug," exclaimed Joe.
"Really?" asked Bob, "Did you remember to put ketchup on it? Everyone says to put ketchup on bugs!"(ridiculous, non?). Anyhow, for that sentence, I also added a "that". Instead of using "who's" which is literally "who is", use "whose". For the edits, you can just compare my changed sentence to the original one in the quote.

5. Ok, I need to paste the entire thing here for this to make sense.
" “This should prove a much needed diversion.” he said, his voice almost pleasant and conversational considering they were about to lay siege to a city who’s defenders outnumbered them two to one. “Be sure you breach the temple before the demon gets there. Be sure there are no survivors, Xorvog would be greatly pleased by that.” he finished as he turned to look at his lieutenant, giving him a dark, sadistic smile as they both thought of the pleasure killing priests would bring them."
So the first sentence I've edited. But I'll just retype my edited ver here:
"This should provide a much needed diversion," he said, his voice almost pleasant and conversational--considering that they were about to lay siege to a city whose defenders outnumbered them two to one. "Be sure you breach the temple before the demon gets there. Leave no survivors-for that will greatly please Xorvog," he finished as he turned to look at his lieutenant. He gave him a dark, sadistic smile as they both though of the pleasure that killing countless priests would bring them.

I'm not quite sure if you put a new line after the second time he talks, considering that it is the same person speaking.
And that I'm not exactly a pro, am I? XD

[epicseeker]

Just for reference... THIS is Ysillebor. The Great Dark One.

[Milan]

HIiii, I see you are very talented and keep working on that.. it may one day become something really big..

I tried to read it but i didn't understand half of the words so i gave up. Take it as a compliment because its not easy written, have potential... KEEP UP!!!

[epicseeker]

HIiii, I see you are very talented and keep working on that.. it may one day become something really big..

I tried to read it but i didn't understand half of the words so i gave up. Take it as a compliment because its not easy written, have potential... KEEP UP!!!

Considering half the words are fictional names of characters and cities, I'll take that as a compliment.

[Milan]

Considering half the words are fictional names of characters and cities, I'll take that as a compliment.

too many descriptive adjectives  for one term so its kinda hard for me to catch up with story... I can but really slow :s Language barrier.
I just wanted to give you support in what you doing

[epicseeker]

too many descriptive adjectives  for one term so its kinda hard for me to catch up with story... I can but really slow :s Language barrier.
I just wanted to give you support in what you doing

I was being all Ironical and junk  I know, I use descriptions heavily. But this is why I came to a community of fantasy fans, so I could get some feedback, thanks for yours.

[eel stirfry]

Just for reference... THIS is Ysillebor. The Great Dark One.

Oh, wow, neat.

(also fantasy fans? this is a fantasy fan community?)