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Discussion in 'Forum Games' started by xsneakyxsimx, Nov 21, 2013.

  1. xsneakyxsimx

    xsneakyxsimx Well-Known Member

    Oct 10, 2012
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    Okay, time for a little free-writing practice. I'm going to type out a prologue, with the intent of getting one paragraph per user (limit of five paragraphs per post three to five lines long and no repeats, but you can post multiple times). The sky's the limit for how to write and the direction of the story, but it would be good for it to maintain a general flow. (Intro provided by fellow user Cordelia.)

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  2. Cordelia

    Cordelia Global Moderator
    Staff Member

    Feb 19, 2013
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    Halig's stomach lurched, twisting like a wet rag in a barman's careless grasp. He only barely succeeded in turning enough to empty the scant contents of his stomach somewhere other than his own naked lap. Was he wearing small clothes? He couldn't tell. The voice pounding the iron laughed, presumably at his plight.

    "That's it, son, get it all out. Not as though I'll be cleaning it myself." The voice laughed again, rough as gravel over sand. Or sand over gravel . . . whichever of the two was rougher. His voice hurt Halig's entire being. Just, all of it. Halig hated him a little.

    "You got enough sober in you to speak, boy?"
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  3. dunklunk

    dunklunk You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.

    Feb 8, 2012
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    "Speak?" Halig offered, quickly but painfully noting his vomiting did not relieve the throbbing in his head. His stomach, however empty it now was, did little to ease his discomfort. "Perhaps, but only if you agree to cease that raucous din you're making."

    He shot the blacksmith a menacing look, though he could instantly tell by his amused expression, the blacksmith was neither alarmed nor frightened. He coughed and spit out a chunk of phlegm. "Very well," Halig started, "but may I at least trouble you for a pair of pants and some water before we begin?"

    He left any anger and animosity buried inside himself, as he pleadingly looked upon the blacksmith.

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