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Post by Campion on Oct 17, 2006 20:52:55 GMT -5
Um, what is? ;D
Happy to see that you could possibly enjoy my writing, too, Slite.
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Post by cree on Oct 18, 2006 20:10:18 GMT -5
Your story reminds me of some video game my cousin likes.I think its called Starfox.
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Post by Campion on Oct 18, 2006 20:57:59 GMT -5
Haha! Oh, Starfox was a good game... But no, 'Starfox' never crosses my mind as I'm writing or doing any such thing.
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Post by cree on Oct 19, 2006 15:12:42 GMT -5
Yeah,I was just wondering because they both involve foxes.But Starfox is weird and the plot is too simple.Yours is good though.
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Post by Campion on Oct 19, 2006 16:28:42 GMT -5
To be honest, there's actually much more of a plot behind Nyverden: AoD. I just never got to writing the bulk of it, yet.
Just extra, Nyverden's ages go in order from most ancient to more modern times...
-The Legends
-Age of Enlightenment
-The Mass Extinction
-Age of Darkness
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Post by cree on Oct 20, 2006 22:55:54 GMT -5
Well it looks like you have it planned out quite well.
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Post by Campion on Oct 20, 2006 23:42:35 GMT -5
You can never plan enough for anything, cree.
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Post by Campion on Nov 27, 2006 21:01:43 GMT -5
Author's Note: Well, I'm back with another short for you guys. Just thought this might bring some more discussion if I posted it, so here it is. Also, seeing as you are peers to me and are also attending high school freshmen year, I thought you might understand this feeling a bit better than others. I have no one left to hold comfort in...
Serorath Gusts of springtime air curled around every leaf and branch in the vast forest, rustling them gently against one another. Luminous, black clouds rolled in over the western mountains and crackling thunder could be heard in the far off distance as a single leaf broke from its loose anchoring and drifted down silently, landing on a small scaled head. Serorath raised his draconic head ever so slowly, letting the dead, crumpled leaf slide off his head and into his open, clawed hand. As he sat back on his hind legs, holding his leathery wings tight to his back, Serorath stared in absolute dismay at the crumpled leaf that was once alive and well, but had died and could not free itself during the harsh winter of last year. But why had it stayed all this time, only to fall at this exact moment and out of any other place, on top of his very head? Serorath always had believed in signs, whether they are the subtlest clues, or the most obvious of anything else. He always was very superstitious; a trait that he knew wouldn't get him very far in life, but also an unbreakable habit that he could not ignore. Crushing the crispy leaf in his palm, he tossed aside the flakes, still staring emptily down at the patchy grass he sat in. Serorath was a lonely dragon. There was no one to comfort him and he never knew his parents. In fact, it was only normal for adults to leave their young as soon as they hatched. But most newborns immediately found a place among their peers. Most had to for they were too weak to survive on their own. Now by no means was Serorath independent because he was strong enough to survive on his own. In fact, he was clueless to how he had come this far without starving or dying in any of the other countless ways that were possible. But now his past choices had come back to beat him down. With no mate, he'd have no young, and with no young came no pride in himself as a species. Serorath plucked a budding dandelion from the ground beside him and thought to himself, "But then again, offspring isn't the only reason some animals find mates." He tossed the dandelion aside and decided to lie back down, crossing his two front legs and resting his chin upon them, staring into the unmoving undergrowth with those sad, empty, and staring eyes. With the first rain drops pittering onto his bony back and head, Serorath lay motionless, struck with an eternal grief. His eyes had never had any kind of happy glow to them, only dim, dull grayness. He had tried to fit in, but with fate, nothing was ever established, and he eventually had given up all hope, losing any sense of self-confidence he had ever possessed. Now he had only learned to pity himself; self-pity, what a terrible habit. And thus it was, for what else could have pulled him so low? Bird songs stopped, no one else was around. In his mind, Serorath neglected the thought of finding cover from the storm. He subconsciously knew that such an act was foolish, but then again, who would care if he ever did disappear? If he 'died'? As the pounding rain began and threw up mist under the forest canopy, Serorath huddled into himself for non-existent self-sustenance as he thought to himself, "No one. Absolutely no one." Serorath was indeed a lonely dragon. ~ Campion ~
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Post by lockesdestiny on Nov 27, 2006 22:35:06 GMT -5
That was pretty sad . I hate loneliness! Good to see your short stories back!
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Post by Campion on Nov 27, 2006 22:50:32 GMT -5
You hate loneliness, eh? Try living a life of it.
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Post by Campion on Dec 10, 2006 2:50:57 GMT -5
Author's Note: Indeed, this is the second part to Serorath's story. Wasn't really intended to be continued, but I was feeling so frustrated today (or yesterday, whatever) that I had to write 'something'. So here tis...
Everything was colorless. The sky, grass, trees. A merciless wind ripped through the tree boughs and constant booming thunder kept anything living in hiding. But some had nowhere to go in such a harsh, unforgiving storm. Two young dragons crouched in the shadow of a large, fallen, tree limb, their hides soaked and dripping with rainwater. One of them, slightly larger, had its arms around the other dragon's body, perching its chin atop the other's head and looking out into the thickening rain. The smaller of the two withdrew its head from the larger's chest and looked up in curiosity, speaking in a voice of sad innocence. "Sery, is he coming?" Serorath patted the other's head as comfortingly as he could, still peering hopelessly out into the blanketing rain. "I'm not sure. Seeing a good six feet is enough of a challenge for me in this rain." The smaller turned its own head and squinted into the spray of the rainwater, then looked back up at Serorath. "I think we should go out and look for him." Upon this statement, Serorath turned his gaze down onto the smaller and spoke with utter seriousness. "Treth, I'm not letting you out into this storm. It's dangerous and plus, I promised Veron you wouldn't be harmed." "Well, Veron isn't here." Treth looked back out at the rain. "He's somewhere out there in danger, too." Serorath gently started pushing the other's head back down against his chest, but Treth suddenly pulled away from him and turned his now blank stare back into the rain. "Sery… something's wrong…" At that he lunged quickly out into the pouring rain with an urgent manner, Serorath starting hard on his tail, screaming for his return. "Treth, get back here! You'll get yourself killed!"
Seemingly what were minutes passed by, Serorath dodging fallen branches and hopping over protruding undergrowth. He could not see Treth, but most certainly hear him, snapping twigs and rustling plants underfoot, despite the heavy rain. His attention was momentarily caught by a strange sound, something between the likes of gasping and- Serorath found himself plowing head-on into a large branch that had fallen and grunted noiselessly, for the sound was swallowed up by the still pounding rain that splattered against his back. Struggling to gain a foothold as he recovered, Serorath became startled when his hand clasped over a cold, muscular appendage protruding from under the fallen branch. It was a tail, a dragon's tail, mildly spiked down the spinal path. Staring it for a few timeless seconds, Serorath finally mustered up the strength to hop onto the fallen branch, which he did. On the other side was the faint silhouette of Treth, slouched over and shaking violently. What was under his body was unseen, but yet conceivable. Serorath was suddenly aware of his trauma, but called out, anyways. "Treth! I'm sorry about Veron, but we'll end up with the same fate if we don't find shelter!" He repeated Treth's name a few more times, trying to bring him out of shock for their friend's unlikely death, but it was no use. His head would not rise. A nearby crash of thunder boomed and lightning flashed upon the entire clearing, causing Serorath to witness something he should have never seen in his entire life.
Serorath awoke with a start, whipping his head in all directions in terror. His heavy panting blew the raindrops off his snout, chest heaving. Finally calming down, Serorath stood and stretched his tense muscles, stiff with cold and soaking wet. He hunched over in the cold rain and limped over to a tree, sitting his back to it. Shaking the excess water from his face, Serorath blew a sigh of sad relief. "Reliving your past in dreams again, are ya?" he whispered reassuringly to himself. It was comforting to know it was simply a dream of his past, despite the lingering fear in his own voice.
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Post by lockesdestiny on Dec 10, 2006 10:45:25 GMT -5
That's too bad it was a dream. I thought he might have actually found someone. Great details inside the story. That's where I'm bad at.
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Post by Campion on Dec 10, 2006 14:41:04 GMT -5
Actually, it wasn't an imaginary dream. This actually happened earlier in his life, he's just recalling it.
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Post by lockesdestiny on Dec 10, 2006 15:38:18 GMT -5
That's what I meant sorry it was confusing. I mean like I thought it was someone in his present, but it turned out to be a dream about his past.
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