Hey....How you doing?
I think I have the beginning of a long and complex story. It just a couple ideas that were bouncing around in my head and they decided to solidify this evening. Let me know what you think. I suppose it's of the fantasy genre, just to let you know.

The whole world twisted and shattered. Looking to ceiling, the old man let out a low gurgle. His vision was doubled and his eyes were heavy. The world was spinning. For just a moment, he wondered who could possibly build anything that would block out the sky. It seemed such a perverse thing to do.

This thought quickly gave way to the rememberings of the many hardships he had endured in his life. They passed quickly enough and ended with the events leading to the present. He recalled the fear of the shadows blanketing the world. He remembered the harsh winter night on which his journey started. The countless nightmares of the past year poured through his weakening body. He tried to forget the blank stares of his dead countrymen.

He felt the blows he had been dealt dispatching the countless terrors unlucky enough to cross his path. He saw himself climbing the stairs of the dark temple that would soon serve as his tomb. He smelled the rot of the catacombs beneath that temple. He heard the crack of his skull as he was thrown against the wall, and he tasted the blood...so much blood.

Then, as his breathing slowed, all the pain faded to numbness and he was standing next to his near-lifeless body. A bright light shined from above. When he looked up, there was only sky showing through the trees in the forest he called home. The numbness slowly turned to warmth and then he was pulling himself to his feet. He was unaware that his green tunic and maille shirt hung in bloody shreds from his broken body. The hair on his head and face was dreaded and full of blood. His insides were out, and his left arm was mangled beyond all use. Somehow he found his sword in his hand and turned to face the Great Evil. He advanced, and as fire consumed his body, he felt only a warm spring breeze. He knew that he had served his masters, and The Three Sisters would triumph.

Hey....How you doing?
I think I have the beginning of a long and complex story. It just a couple ideas that were bouncing around in my head and they decided to solidify this evening. Let me know what you think. I suppose it's of the fantasy genre, just to let you know.

The whole world twisted and shattered. Looking to ceiling, the old man let out a low gurgle. His vision was doubled and his eyes were heavy. The world was spinning. For just a moment, he wondered who could possibly build anything that would block out the sky. It seemed such a perverse thing to do.

This thought quickly gave way to the rememberings of the many hardships he had endured in his life. They passed quickly enough and ended with the events leading to the present. He recalled the fear of the shadows blanketing the world. He remembered the harsh winter night on which his journey started. The countless nightmares of the past year poured through his weakening body. He tried to forget the blank stares of his dead countrymen.

He felt the blows he had been dealt dispatching the countless terrors unlucky enough to cross his path. He saw himself climbing the stairs of the dark temple that would soon serve as his tomb. He smelled the rot of the catacombs beneath that temple. He heard the crack of his skull as he was thrown against the wall, and he tasted the blood...so much blood.

Then, as his breathing slowed, all the pain faded to numbness and he was standing next to his near-lifeless body. A bright light shined from above. When he looked up, there was only sky showing through the trees in the forest he called home. The numbness slowly turned to warmth and then he was pulling himself to his feet. He was unaware that his green tunic and maille shirt hung in bloody shreds from his broken body. The hair on his head and face was dreaded and full of blood. His insides were out, and his left arm was mangled beyond all use. Somehow he found his sword in his hand and turned to face the Great Evil. He advanced, and as fire consumed his body, he felt only a warm spring breeze. He knew that he had served his masters, and The Three Sisters would triumph.