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    Before you can really grasp what my tale instills, you need to know how my creation started.
    Originally, I played Dungeons and Dragons. LOTS of Dungeons and Dragons. Then, my older brother came up with an idea that his friend, me, and himself should write a book on all the adventures we had put our characters through. So, I just have to say that all of my writing here is D&D based.

    Erianne Clare is a Saralan. They are furry elf-like humanoids that live in the treetops of the Blackforest Barrier, an immensely thick ‘C’ shaped band of trees surrounding the country. The forest is so dense that only creatures with the ability to harness the power of night vision can safely traverse through. Saralans worship Saral, the goddess of the moon, said to be cast out of the ranks of the Gods by Pelor, the god of the sun, for relying on his rays to light. Angry at Pelor, and jealous of his creation of man, Saral shaped her own children and hid them from Pelor’s rays in the Blackforest Barrier. Thus creating the Saralans. Ever since, Saralans have had an inexplicable hatred for humans, and those feelings were often returned untainted. Amazing at climbing, Saralans rarely spend time on the forest floor, and therefore have no worry for turtle bears, or anything of the such.

    Erianne was born in a hut in the trees, and learned to walk within a month. She was climbing and swinging through the trees by the age of three, and learned to fluently speak her native language by four. When she was six, she was taught to fight with her surroundings over all else.

    On her seventh birthday, she discovered what the world was really like. Countless Pelor followers charged through the woods on horseback, carrying torches and burning her home to the ground. She fled south, a team of four men keeping pace. She burst out of the trees, and stumbled on a mountainside, sliding over an overhang and falling hundreds of feet down into the rapids.

    She awakens on the bank of a calm river, a small boy standing over her. He helps her to her feet, and introduces himself as Lloyd Pipebur(my friend’s first character), an eleven year old Halfling(for those who don’t know, the D&D version of Hobbits) who’s been orphaned as an infant. They sit by the river for a while, and once Erianne gains her bearings she vows that she’s going to return to her home and kill the men that attacked her. After attempting to convince her otherwise, Lloyd reluctantly agrees, and follows her back to her home. She finds the entire place in ashes, a clearing established in the treetops to allow a column of light to shine through. She finds her mother, lying near their hut with a bow still in her hand, a bastard sword pinning her chest to the ground. For the next hour, she weeps over her mother’s corpse before gently picking the bow out of her hand and cremating her, as their tradition requires for those who died honorably, in battle. She asks forgiveness for not staying to fight, and leaves the forest hardened and unforgiving.



    Herr D

    Wow. Good enough looking picture that I almost didn’t notice the bow was misshapen. It’s not bent enough and the string is a bit too long for the bow’s height anyway. Where’s it from?



    I’m not sure what the source is, but it looks exactly like Etienne so I went on and used it. I noticed the problem with the bow as well, but I think it can be overlooked.



    They travel to Marrohaven, Lloyd’s hometown, in silence. For the next ten years, fitful images of impish serpents and the screams of the damned would fill her dreams. Four years pass, and they meet a 13 year old named Derrik Chiptree, a vibrant young lad who aspires to follow in is father’s footsteps and become a Priest serving Pelor. Erianne silently darkens within herself, but remembers it is not what one is, but who one is. She allows for the next six years to pass, and Derrik discovers he has an uncontrollable alcohol addiction.
    Now, Erianne is seventeen, proficient with her mother’s old bow, and a deadly, deadly young woman. She has been trained in two-arrow shots, properly firing an arrow at point blank range, and how to safely use an arrow as a melee weapon without damaging the projectile. She has also learnt the precise technique of swordplay, preferring the longsword in melee combat.

    On one of the darker of clouded days, Lloyd found Erianne twiddling with one of her arrows in the middle of one of the many cobbled alleys of Marrohaven.
    “The pastry guy’s got his booth back up now. I’m gonna run some errands, and was hoping you might want to join me?” She looked up at him scornfully.
    “His biscuits yield no flavor, artistically nor literally.” She stood, sliding her arrow back into her quiver. “But, I suppose bland beats hunger. Sure.”
    Lloyd smiled, and held up a small pouch. It honestly smelled like death.
    “Oh, believe me, this time,” he tossed the disgusting bundle of rot to her, “it’ll be entertaining.” Erianne held the pouch by its string and sniffed it.
    “Is that a raccoon?” She handed it back to him with a crack in her composure. He cocked an eyebrow.
    “Actually, yeah. I was planning on slinging it into the merchant’s face and shoving as many pastries as I could into various pockets and bags while he was doubled over vomiting.”
    “I figured. You should still do it, despite the fact that it won’t be a surprise to me anymore.” They stepped into the street, and began to walk towards the marketplace.
    “Of course I am. I wouldn’t waste a dead ‘coon when there’s pastry guys to throw them at.”




    They spotted their target at the corner of a tavern named Your Royal Hotness that was popular among the men of Marrohaven. He kept looking around nervously, almost as a bird. He relaxed a moment, and began to declare his wares as ‘the most popular pastries in all of these streets’.
    “Should we do this quietly, or just throw it from here?” Erianne asked.
    “I’d like it to take him a moment to figure out what’s in the sack.” he replied. She laughed.
    “Alright, then we need to go around the pub and hit him from behind.”

    Ellis was a pastry merchant. He hated his job. The wares were terrible. The people were arses. And all he could eat all day were pastries. He was pencil thin, constantly had uneven stubble, and wore an old torn hat he had pulled out of a rubbish pile. And the worst of it all were the thieves. Two individuals, constantly gnawing at the back of his mind, eating at his pastries without he even knowing. He was sweating, his slightest movements jerking too far. His thoughts were interrupted by something heavy striking the back of his head. He turned around, and accidentally stepped on a sack, hearing the crunching of bones. He looked up, and saw them. Watching him from across the street, seemingly smug with themselves. He began swearing at them as the stench reached his senses, and he gagged. He didn’t really have much of a choice than to flee from the sickening sour-sweet stench. He screamed for some sort of enforcement, and they seemed to leap from the shadows. Erianne and Lloyd had generally the same thought at the same time.
    Ballucks. They ran to the booth, crammed at least a dozen crumpets in their series of storage devices. Then, they bot fled in the same direction, that from which they came. They cut into a familiar alley to the right, and climbed onto rubbish heaps and windowsills until they got to the roof. They looked down on the police and began taunting them. Suddenly Erianne heard a muffled scream, and whirled around in time to see an authority with Lloyd in a chokehold. She grabbed the officer’s hands and crushed them in her muscled grip. He screamed and released Lloyd, who proceeded to shove a pastry in the man’s mouth before booting him over the edge of the building.




    Wow! Things have either changed a lot since I was last here. Or I am at the wrong site……Hope its the former.
    Anyways. First of all I love the picture. Very dramatic and very pleasing to the eye and deffenaintly gets ya in the mood for some fantasy.
    Second the story itself is very interesting. Right now I am really looking forward to the next update.



    Due to credential roadblocks, the story continues beyond the button HERE>>> O



    I guess I should give you guys the point up to which I’ve written, since i already had more done before i had to move the writing. here it is :)

    They shared a wince as the man hit the ground, failing to rise.
    “Come on!” She spun on her heel, and followed Lloyd across the rooftop. They leapt the distance between buildings until they were on the opposite side of town. “I think we lost ’em.” Lloyd stopped on the roof, and hoisted himself up onto an adjacent tree branch. Erianne followed, and together they picked alternate routes down. Stepping into the street, they were immediately confronted with the City Guard. Before the exhausted pair could react, they were beaten, bound, and walking towards the Marrohaven Hall. They were ushered through the door, up two flights of stairs, and to the end of a hall. From there, the team of officers accompanying them shoved them through the door to land on their knees before none other than the mayor himself. He glanced up at the crew and spoke sharply.
    “Explain.” One of the men immediately stepped forward and issued a report.
    “When you first came into office, sir, you stated that ordinary punishment would not undergo upon severe repeat offenders, and that they would be brought to you for personal analysis and jurisdiction from you.” The mayor’s face darkened.

    Farewell, I was hoping to get farther than I did while mom kept letting me post my writing on someone else’s site, but she changed her mind. thats why i have to move. sorry.

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