Donald Shrode
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The Valley of Our Kings
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Once the Arcane Scrolls held in the libraries of Lessard were translated from their ancient and lost tongues, few of the stories were allowed to be officially released. Still, locked cabinets, guarded doors, and sacred oaths couldn't keep excited whispers from traveling through crowded pubs on dismal winter nights. Tales grew in demand of eye witness accounts of sea merchants from far away nations coming under attack by winged beasts on moonless nights. Soon the whole city learned of these cursed sea farers washing ashore long enough to share of flying leviathans conjuring storms to announce their vengeance on those daring to cross their pilgrimage. Many vessels were found months after their expected arrival, charred black with ash. The crew members lost to the sea, or worse.
By Donald Shrode2 years ago in Fiction
Graduation and Me
It was years before I was able to recognize I had experienced trauma from years of bullying in school. I grew up in a small, blue collar town and though my family was there my heart never was. My relatives weren't very close and I was often unsure of how they felt about me. In the midst of a culture obsessed with lifted pickup trucks, hunting and football I was drawn to theater and punk rock. If acting drew a target on my back then punk rock made sure that target was painted aerosol neon red with my other cheek turned to be slapped as well.
By Donald Shrode3 years ago in Motivation
Our July Wandering
The light around the bend grew in intensity. I didn’t have time to focus on the pain of my feet slapping against the pavement. Converse and adrenaline kept me flying down the country road. The moon and appearing headlights were enough to illuminate my soon to be cover. Jumping feet first into the bush I landed squarely on the slim figure of my buddy Zak, already crouched down.
By Donald Shrode3 years ago in Fiction
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