The voices speak, all we need do is listen.
The written word became very important to me at an early age. I have been trying to place them in the right order ever since. Dark and Urban Fantasy is where I currently play. Want to join me?
Dragon Hunters Chapter 2
Chapter 2 Dust exploded out into the small space as he slammed the book closed. Tossing it to the side he reached for the next one in the pile. Ancient papers crackled their protestation and the spine popped and snapped as he opened it. Flipping through the pages quickly he scanned and searched.
Dragon Hunters Chapter 5
There is no time, he thought to himself jostling about in the wagon as the old mare plodded along the path. He knew he would find the child eventually but only after the loss of precious time, and time was one of the few things that Busca Zador could not pull out from under his robes.
Dragon Hunters Chapter 4
“You left me there!” “It didn’t seem to do me much good did it?” Carit slumped onto a large stone doing his best to glare at the dragon hunter without seeming petulant. He had guessed that she, and her talon would be camped along the river with the rest of the talons. He was right and now he was sitting there trying to out fierce the most well-known dragon hunter in Naargas if not all of Duris.
Dragon Hunters Chapter 3
“Mistress, the dragons have been driven into the Valley of Naargas.” Pietro’s words bounced off of the stone walls of the narrow entranceway amplifying his voice. Startled at his own insolence -even if unintended- he shrank back to the doorway he had just passed through to make his announcement.
The Bitter Watch
August 10 I write in this journal at this most inappropriate time because it may be the second to last thing I do. As for the reasons behind this rash statement, I will spell them out in the body of this letter. I say letter since, basically, that is what it is. A letter to anyone who may find it so that they will know the reasons for my actions. I will write what I can with what little time that I have so that someone may know my story.
Dragon Hunters There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The everyday lives of the everyday folk weren’t always spent in fear of a cloud that moved too quickly, or a shadow that suddenly became flame. There weren’t always mothers crying out to the heavens as they searched through the rubble and ash for any sign of their children. Death would come as death always did, the old and sick, sometimes the young and strong, but it was never vengeful.