James U. Rizzi
I cant wait to see what I can create here.
The fourth rounded moon after the third cycle of winter, a signal etched against the black of night surrounded by the gleam of speckled twinkles. A signal that would pronounce the day of holy celebration. The day the first dragon entered the earthly universe: Nasitrlan Day.
A Tamer Has Risen
“There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley.” The ole traveler paused, jabbing his finger in the air. “Nay gents, while they may remain in the lowlands of Resprils greener pastures, way back in the time’s past the sky serpents roamed the clouds of the seven realms. Nay not in the valley at all friends.”
The Yellow Lotus Clan
1857 October 8th Me and the last of the Yellow Lotus clan stood perched at the ready atop the village guard wall. I unsheathed my sacred steel, crouched in my fighting stance and waited for the inevitable confrontation and bloodshed to follow. Battles should be glorious: an opportunity to live in everlasting preeminence, a right of passage, a sign of a true warrior. But my elation was nowhere to be seen. Ever since the Emperor collected the clan's samurai from his and other neighboring factions, a sense of ache resided in my body, the hurt now resounded as the horses clamored their way towards my position. Pain in the physical sense I know, the slice of a sword, the bruises from blunt stricken armor. But this sting I knew, as I watched from the trees my brother leading the charge, was one of sadness, trembling through my bleeding heart.
Tales Of The Father
"There weren't always dragons in the Valley," my father shouted. "The world is changing, hastily it would seem, drastic transformations conspire yearly. And now we don't even have to wait till seasons end." Father adjusted his seat with a hefty grunt. "Dragons don't belong in the valleys, so why do they roam the grassy flats? Whispers would suggested there homes were destroyed by war and the incessant behavior of tyrannical men. Others would say the odd patterns of weather brought them their. Either way son I've never seen anything like it in my time!"
The sea churned. Her black frothy waters crashed against the rickety wooden hull. Jarring me and my mates two and fro, from port to starboard and back again. Like drunkards, we grasped for whatever wasn’t moving lest we be thrown overboard and swallowed whole by her vastness. The storm raged on.