Post by Techy on Jan 16, 2007 20:20:09 GMT -5
(I think this is some of my best work, and I've had three people edit it already 
)
The shadowy character slid the dark cloak over her slim figure. How and why had it come to this? She knew the reason was buried deep within the wells of her mind, but her heart wanted to completely forget. It could possibly be a harsh, emotional pain, burdening her plight down.
The hood of her cloak created an even deeper shadow over her face. Her hand rested on the handle of the door to the room in which she had spent most of her life confined. Gently, she pushed it open with a soft breath over the carpeted floor. She stepped from the hard cement of her floor to the slightly softer carpet.
Maybe remembering would be a good thing. Her heart quivered. Too much emotional pain. Oh, so it was fighting back now?
She picked up her shoes, straight up. This only brought silence, as it should be. The old, dirty strings were tied together. Her younger sister had tried to trick her so she would make a fool of herself. She wanted, no, needed, to know why. It was more than just an ordinary sibling rivalry between them.
Something, an image, flashed in front of her eyes, something from her memories. How old she was when “the deed” was done. “The deed” was why everybody despised her.
She slung her shoes around her neck; the tied strings prevented them from clattering to the floor. Her soft, fleshy feet carried her into the kitchen where they had a metal and plastic version of tile they called metlon for the floor. The silence that surrounded her allowed her to become more brave and confident with every step she took. It gave her enough confidence to step up to the large oak door that led to the outside world. Quietly, agonizingly slowly, she opened the door. Only the thin screen, held in place by a metal frame that acted like a door held her, in her prison.
She was a young elfling at the time when “the deed” was done. Only 6 in elf years, but 600 in human years.
The screen door opened with a small squeak. She froze, all of her senses closing except for her hearing. The only sounds in the house were the sounds of breathing coming from her family, signifying that they were still sleeping. Family was hardly the name for them with the way they had treated her. Carefully, she closed the oak door behind her; it locked her out. She had dreamed of this for over a century.
It was during a war when “the deed” was done. The war that changed the elves’ outlook on life forever.
She felt a breeze. The breeze would slowly shut the screen for her. She released the screen as she began walking toward the street. A few escaped strands of her hair stopped gently dancing in the breeze. Suddenly, it was dead. Then, much to her dismay, the screen door slammed, loudly. The elvin girl flinched with the slam. Nothing good could come from that.
A large war it was, against goblins and orcs. Armies of them. Even a few Dark Elves.
“Ashlin Lineguar! Get the door! Ashlin? Ashlin! Get your scrawny elf butt back in this house, now!” her mother screeched once she realized what was going on.
Being a young elfling, she wanted to watch the war. It caused a curiosity that made her want to see how all the older elves fought.
Ashlin took off running down the street. The stones bounced off of her toes, but she took no notice. She was used to it. Lanterns in houses flashed on all around the neighborhood. Her father flew out of their house, and began to give chase. But Ashlin was already halfway to her destination. All the work she had been forced to do had given her strong leg muscles, perfect for running. She was one of the fastest elves in her hometown of Hilltree, third fastest, to be precise.
Her uncle, right hand man to the mayor of Hilltree, had agreed to let her sit up with him, up in the defensive tower in front of the mayor’s house. He shot at every goblin or orc who came within his shooting range.
The cloak’s hood fell back to her shoulders, the protection of shadow leaving the hazel eyes filled with fear shown to the world. No longer trapped, mid-back length hair was now free to fly, creating a dark brown trail in the air behind her. Her shoes bounced around on her shoulders, threatening to bounce off. The cloak also flapped around her knees. She had not received a new one for a very long while.
)The shadowy character slid the dark cloak over her slim figure. How and why had it come to this? She knew the reason was buried deep within the wells of her mind, but her heart wanted to completely forget. It could possibly be a harsh, emotional pain, burdening her plight down.
The hood of her cloak created an even deeper shadow over her face. Her hand rested on the handle of the door to the room in which she had spent most of her life confined. Gently, she pushed it open with a soft breath over the carpeted floor. She stepped from the hard cement of her floor to the slightly softer carpet.
Maybe remembering would be a good thing. Her heart quivered. Too much emotional pain. Oh, so it was fighting back now?
She picked up her shoes, straight up. This only brought silence, as it should be. The old, dirty strings were tied together. Her younger sister had tried to trick her so she would make a fool of herself. She wanted, no, needed, to know why. It was more than just an ordinary sibling rivalry between them.
Something, an image, flashed in front of her eyes, something from her memories. How old she was when “the deed” was done. “The deed” was why everybody despised her.
She slung her shoes around her neck; the tied strings prevented them from clattering to the floor. Her soft, fleshy feet carried her into the kitchen where they had a metal and plastic version of tile they called metlon for the floor. The silence that surrounded her allowed her to become more brave and confident with every step she took. It gave her enough confidence to step up to the large oak door that led to the outside world. Quietly, agonizingly slowly, she opened the door. Only the thin screen, held in place by a metal frame that acted like a door held her, in her prison.
She was a young elfling at the time when “the deed” was done. Only 6 in elf years, but 600 in human years.
The screen door opened with a small squeak. She froze, all of her senses closing except for her hearing. The only sounds in the house were the sounds of breathing coming from her family, signifying that they were still sleeping. Family was hardly the name for them with the way they had treated her. Carefully, she closed the oak door behind her; it locked her out. She had dreamed of this for over a century.
It was during a war when “the deed” was done. The war that changed the elves’ outlook on life forever.
She felt a breeze. The breeze would slowly shut the screen for her. She released the screen as she began walking toward the street. A few escaped strands of her hair stopped gently dancing in the breeze. Suddenly, it was dead. Then, much to her dismay, the screen door slammed, loudly. The elvin girl flinched with the slam. Nothing good could come from that.
A large war it was, against goblins and orcs. Armies of them. Even a few Dark Elves.
“Ashlin Lineguar! Get the door! Ashlin? Ashlin! Get your scrawny elf butt back in this house, now!” her mother screeched once she realized what was going on.
Being a young elfling, she wanted to watch the war. It caused a curiosity that made her want to see how all the older elves fought.
Ashlin took off running down the street. The stones bounced off of her toes, but she took no notice. She was used to it. Lanterns in houses flashed on all around the neighborhood. Her father flew out of their house, and began to give chase. But Ashlin was already halfway to her destination. All the work she had been forced to do had given her strong leg muscles, perfect for running. She was one of the fastest elves in her hometown of Hilltree, third fastest, to be precise.
Her uncle, right hand man to the mayor of Hilltree, had agreed to let her sit up with him, up in the defensive tower in front of the mayor’s house. He shot at every goblin or orc who came within his shooting range.
The cloak’s hood fell back to her shoulders, the protection of shadow leaving the hazel eyes filled with fear shown to the world. No longer trapped, mid-back length hair was now free to fly, creating a dark brown trail in the air behind her. Her shoes bounced around on her shoulders, threatening to bounce off. The cloak also flapped around her knees. She had not received a new one for a very long while.
