Silence_Eve
Ok, since we pretty much steam-punk rolled over every other thread, I decided to make something for randomness for the of being random.
What were are going to do is create a story using random phrases; how we do it is copy the previous statement and build from it...and so on and so forth. ((I've wanted to do this for awhile))
Game on!! ^^
Comments
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he'd ever imagined ran through his arm.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he'd ever imagined ran through his arm.
He was beseiged by unclean thoughts of bloodlust and terror, but try as he may he was unable to release the blade.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he'd ever imagined ran through his arm.
He was beseiged by unclean thoughts of bloodlust and terror, but try as he may he was unable to release the blade.
He screamed in pain as tendrils of molten metal burrowed into his flesh.
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he'd ever imagined ran through his arm.
He was beseiged by unclean thoughts of bloodlust and terror, but try as he may he was unable to release the blade.
He screamed in pain as tendrils of molten metal burrowed into his flesh.
Torrents of madness gripped his mind; a tempest of silent dread rapt remorselessly 'neath fluttering eyelids, grasped at his hopes, sliced into them with ravenous, cruel, and unrelenting glee.
The night was dark and shadowed with mist
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he
The blood moon hung low and red on the horizon.
Stiff winds shifted chaotically against sweat-damp skin.
The ground sank with each step and blood seeped through his thin boots.
He would have grunted in pain if he could feel half the wounds that littered his body, but the adrenaline was high and the battle was only beginning
He was deaf to the screams of agony and the sounds of metal clashing as he spotted his target and raised his sword.
With arc of his blade and spatter of blood his opponent fell to the ground, pleading mercy, claiming inexistent children and wives.
His body fell to ground with a dull thud and he continued on, keeping his true target in his lone of vision as he removed more obstacles.
Explosions of lightning lit up countless heaps of bodies, whether this lightning was the rage of the Gods or the formidable weapons of the enemy battle mages, he was unsure, but would discover all too soon.
Though he figured a war such as this would spite any god that witnessed it, any god that look on and enjoyed the good and pure would be enraged by this and perhaps even a few of the more sinister ones. the flashes of lighting were closing in on his person and he barely dodged it
He could detect the distinct scent of burning hair and without a moment of thought, he bolted ahead, narrowly missing confrontations and corpses.
Tripping over the corpse of a fallen soldier, he suddenly finds himself face down in a pool of blood and mud, sure that he will be struck dead at any moment.
But he held faith that his god would protect him, he was honour bound to destroy this plague once in for all, it was all a lie.
There, amongst the muck and bodily fluids, glimmered the gem-encrested silver hilt of a dagger with an ominous glow.
He reached out towards it, and as he pulled it from the mud, a pain unlike any he