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Thread: For the Elven Queen!

  1. #1
    Grand Nagus Vada Dagon's Avatar
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    For the Elven Queen!

    Hello All,

    If any of you venture onto the Games department you'd understand the Title. Anyway. I promise the girl with the Elvish name, to which I've crowned Queen, that I would write her a story for her to read.

    I'll upload the Word Document and anyone and everyone can read and critique. This is my first draft and I just finished the first page. It's not great but I've read worst, what else could I say. However you think it is please let me know what you think.

    Thanks,
    Vada
    Attached Files Attached Files
    And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
    Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
    There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
    And evening full of the linnet's wings.

    The Lake Isle of Innisfree
    William Butler Yeats

  2. #2
    Rather Bewildered brainstrain's Avatar
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    Ooh, interesting. Its quite intruiging, but try shrinking the font. i had to keep scrolling from side to side to read the entire sentence lol.

    a bit annoying
    "...thought is the arrow of time, memory never fades."

  3. #3
    Grand Nagus Vada Dagon's Avatar
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    I appreciate your comment. I only did it with Time New Roman 12 Font so I'm not sure what might have happened.

    Interesting and intriguing. I would take that as a very good compliment.
    Thanks

    Quote Originally Posted by brainstrain View Post
    Ooh, interesting. Its quite intruiging, but try shrinking the font. i had to keep scrolling from side to side to read the entire sentence lol.

    a bit annoying
    And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
    Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
    There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
    And evening full of the linnet's wings.

    The Lake Isle of Innisfree
    William Butler Yeats

  4. #4
    Grand Nagus Vada Dagon's Avatar
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    Hey Y'all

    I was going to make the font smaller but I decided to just post it instead of having an attachment that people may be afraid of a virus. So here it is.
    I revised some of the wording and the punctuation but it still not great.
    I must have been depressed when I wrote this because it is a little too dark for me (and I wrote it) but trust me this is only the beginning of the story and not the whole story since I have not finished that story.

    I have been working on a book lately and it has taken up most of my writing time (plus I've not been able to get on-line either).

    Elven Queen

    It was a sad time in the Engal Land. The trees withered the flowers didn’t bloom and all seemed too quiet to be a summer morn. It had been so for quite some time. The Elven Queen would not venture nor visit to the pond and no merry laughter anywhere about. The birds fell silent and everyone hoped she would come out from her room. She’d lost her champion for a selfish charge; therefore she would not eat, she would not sleep and she would not even dare to weep. Even the sun didn’t seem to shine as bright upon the Elven land. It was truly a sad time all throughout that land.

    Three kingdoms away there was a young lad who aspired to be a Knight. The gentry laughed, his brother teased and even his father would tell him to quit his dreams. He knew he was a night but none would even allow him to serve even as a simple page. So there he remained as the blacksmith’s son, full of soot and mud. Gathering wood and shoveling coal to keep the furnace hot all day long. At least his brother could hammer and mould although not a much worthier chore. All he knew was this miserable life in this little town without a name. The most he ever ventured had been to the town of Aegon, that one time his brother lay sick, helping his father in selling his stock. One day he would be a Knight even if he had to run from this place but today he was just a peasant boy gathering dry kindle in the woods.
    A whisper in his ear made him jump, dumping all his gear upon his toe.
    His brother laughed and laughed while our little peasant boy just stared with anger. Sometimes he wished he lived alone or were an orphan. Then he could become a page and then a Knight and go out to fight for honor with all his might.
    “Oh, thou are funny brother!” His brother said between his laughter.
    “A young maiden could not have acted with such a gaiety.”
    He grabbed a log and hit his brother hard upon the arm, but only more laughter came as he ran laughing all the way home.
    Stupid older brothers, he thought. Just wait until I become a Knight and make him my page boy.
    He sat on the ground and kicked the logs from the pile. He thought that he should run away now, would be the best for all involved. No one would miss him if he left, he thought, certainly not his older brother that was for sure.
    He looked up at the grey sky and it looked like rain later on in the day. A gust of wind rustled upon the trees and blew a leaf upon his face. He wrestled with the leaf which smacked him on the face. Even nature would play jokes on him, so how could he expect to ever become a Knight. Who was he kidding; he thought once more, he could not even be a proper son, let alone a page boy.
    A soft voice came to his ear he picked up a log and sung around without fear. The log met the air as he spun and lost his footing falling upon a bush. As fast as lighting he recover, and looked around to find no other.
    “Come out! Bryson, my brother…” The wind responded by blowing some dead leaves scaring a rabbit away.
    “Come out, I said or art thou a coward?” Looking behind one tree and then another, all that he found was a small beetle. Embarrassed for himself he went back to retrieve his mess.

    Maybe I'll get more comments now?

    Elven Queen I got thine comments by private courier and thoust is thee kindest of all creatures in this Magical Land. I thank thee mine Queen.
    The Dragon that lost his R along the way.
    And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
    Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
    There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
    And evening full of the linnet's wings.

    The Lake Isle of Innisfree
    William Butler Yeats

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