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so, uh, is it too late to join up, or...

can I, mayhap, take Zaork's place?

@Ryan: Ryaaaaaaaaaaannnn

Everyone should work on their entries...because I'm doing miiineeee....

It involves decapitation

1v1 battle between Freakenstein and Wajor, then new theme that is more open? Excellent idea, if I do say so myself.......aaaaahahahahahaaaa.....

Hey...I'm not writing this entry for nothing...

~~~ (testing that...)

ill do my best to get my entry in,

AG has dropped greatly on my priority list... ): been busy

I am...currently...writing feverishly to get this done...

I quite like where my story is headed...

Here is the fixed version. The ***'ing was also fixed.

Enjoy

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The sky was dark over the makeshift prison. Within the prisoner lay prostrate, arms and legs tied and mouth gagged. He could writhe if he wanted, but that would solve nothing. Eyes darted from side to side, looking for any signs of hope. Of course, even in the dark he knew that the damp and woody landscape would hold nothing of use. The wood was damp and rocks hadn't matured any larger than pebbles.
The man repositioned himself so that he was lying on his back and could look up at the rough piece of corrugated tin and the strong pine which it had been leant against. The rain continued to hit the tin with annoying pings, but at least it kept him mostly dry.
A few metres away lay the huge bodies which could be identified as his captors. They did not have cover from the weather as the water ran briskly off their thick leathery hides. They were strange creatures, yet very large. Short stumpy legs attached to a bulky body, which had grown arms thick as small trees. Each arm ended in a large hand, with long fingers finished with sharp claws. Their heads were covered in heavy stone helms, wickedly curved beaks protruding from a hole at the bottom. The whole creature was covered by the impenetrable leather hide.
Pulling his mind away from the creatures, the man curled himself up and tried to sleep.

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The hot shackles around her wrists rubbed and burnt her soft skin as she walked behind her family, the wound on her leg slowing her ability to keep up. Even though she was in this situation, she could still smile as her captors were faring worse. The score of soldiers which surrounded her and her family were sweltering in their chainmail and helmets, heavy boots sinking deep with every step in the powdery sand.
She kept her head down to stop the glare from the sand shining into her clear blue eyes. Frequent winds came heavy laden with sand, coating her slender eyelashes with grit. Staring intently at the chain holding her wrists, she followed it to where it curled around her father's side until it disappeared from view. His back, once proud and strong, was now hunched and tired. The rich clothes were spoiled with dirt and sweat, the chain rubbing through the material.
Around her the soldiers grumbled silently, knowing that the figure at the front of the procession would not hesitate to kill if their complaints were heard. A soldier had learnt this lesson the hard way a mile or so back, where his body was now the home of maggots. He had simply asked for a break, and the man garbed in black robes had simply flicked his wrist and killed the man with a small knife.
This man could simply be described as dangerous. An experience assassin, his belt was marked with a multitude of metal spikes, each telling the story of one of his victims. The hood he wore covered his face, which was grotesquely marked with burns from his childhood.
On and on they walked, through the desert heat. Minutes seemed to drag on for hours, the sun never relenting. They broke only twice, during which stale water was distributed which did not quench, but rather increased one's thirst.

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As sun dawned on the makeshift camp, weakly shining through the gaps in the heavy clouds, the huge creatures woke and began to prepare for the day ahead. They did not eat, as they source nutrients directly from the ground as they slept through worm like feelers which protruded from their sides.
The man woke with a start as his shelter was removed, eyes opening to the empty blackness of the helms of one of his captors. He thought he saw a glint of a blood orange eye within this cavity, but he couldn't be sure.
Gently, yet with hands made for killing, he was pulled to his feet and then a chain was attached to the rope holding his wrists. The other end of this chain was attached to the creatures wrist guard. The thick rope binding his legs was sliced in two with a brief hand movement made by the creature.
The man shuddered as he saw this, knowing how easily one of the claws could decapitate or dismember him. His mind went back to the horrible day when he was caught. He had been riding through the forest on a hunting trip with his best friend, when their horses were tripped by a tight steel wire held across the trail. The hunter had now become the hunted.
He had sprung up off the ground and pulled his sword from its sheath. As it slid out, he remembered seeing the sun glint off the magnificent blade, morning dewdrops falling from the trees and splashing cleaning on it. The musical ring which was made as the sword unsheathed was beautiful and melodic; such beauty with a dreadful duty.
The next moment in his memory brought tears to his eyes. He had watched, sword aloft, as multiple huge creatures appeared around them. His friend had charged one, swinging his battleaxe with courage, to which the creature lazily flicked its heavy arm. The long and sharp talons cleanly decapitated him, body limply falling to the ground and head sent flying through the air. Grossly, it was caught by another of the creatures, who crunched the skull in its wicked beak.
By now the gleaming blade lay discarded in the grass; fear controlled the man as he fell to his knees and begged for mercy.
What happened next had grown legs and escaped the man's memory. His next recollection was walking through a dimly let forest, chained and bound.
Pulling his mind back to the present, the man found that he was in this situation once again, stumbling onwards between trees that clutched the gloomy atmosphere like a vice.

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She watched with undisclosed horror as her mother collapsed dead onto the sand. The soldiers simply untied her and carried on. Her father wept, but she kept her emotions within, a simply blank look on her softly sculptured face.
In the distance lay a towering pillar; a stone obelisk which had fallen from the sky one night, with an accompanying explosion which not only destroyed the surrounding landscape, but revealed the lost seabed from ages past. The winds had come, and the land was transformed into the desert it now was.
The obelisk stood out from the sand like an eyesore, black as a lightning struck tree. The sharp top seemingly pierced the sun and the base, wide as a laying man, protruded deep within the sand.
The surrounding sand actually was really clear glass which had been formed when the obelisk had fallen from the sky, carrying tremendous heat. Winds had caused the sand immediately surrounding this glass to move, and now it was raised a metre or so above the sand.
A fierce sandstorm was heading their way, so the soldiers quickly sprung into action. Digging a pit big enough for everyone to fit and then covering it with a heavy blanket, a shelter was soon made. Everyone made their way underneath and then several soldiers lay around the edge of the blanket, which was tucked underneath, to keep it in place.
The girl was squeezed tightly between her father and a soldier, the odour of hot bodies filling the shelter and burning nostrils.
All was silent except for the slight clanks made when the soldiers moved and their armour crushed together. The assassin, sitting in the middle of the circle, commanded one of the soldiers to go see if the sandstorm had passed. A senior soldier began to object this notion, knowing that it hadn't hit yet, but he bit his tongue as his thoughts turned to his own welfare.
Climbing from the shelter, the soldier at first saw nothing. Then, when he turned he was shocked to see billowing clouds of sand not a kilometre away. He went to return into the shelter, but found that it was secured and he was trapped outside.
The winds came bringing sand as well as bugs which fed on human flesh. They devoured him, bones and flesh alike, leaving only his armour and weapons on the ground. He may have screamed, but for the sand and bugs which filled his mouth, it would not have escaped.
Those inside the shelter were kept safe by the thick blanket which began to droop as sand was deposited on top. Above them roared the wind, the sound only slightly dampened.
As she sat close to a soldier, she noticed the dagger attatched to his belt. It was held loosely within a small leather sheath at his side and was currently half fallen out.
The man was getting drowsy in the warmth and she watched as his eyes closed. Carefully, she reached forward with her hands, still chained at the wrist, and gently relieved the sheath of its dagger.
Looking up, she saw that many of the other soldiers were also starting to shut their eyes, as well as her father. She then realised that it was the warmth as well as lack of fresh air within the shelter which was causing everyone to sleep.
The only person other than her who did not look drowsy was the assassin, who sat bolt upright in the center of the circle, his back to her. Smiling at this, she used the dagger to prise open the basic lock on her shackles. Hands now free, she held the dagger carefully in her hand and thought about what to do.
Above her the winds still raged with no sign of relenting. Sandstorms like these could go on for up to hours without relenting, a prospect that could cause the deaths of the people surrounding her. Wiping the sweat and gritty sand from her forehead, the girl was very thankful for still being young and fit.
A plan formulating in her head, the girl quickly held the dagger to the closest soldier's throat. He did not react, as he was deeply asleep.
'Yes, I think we may have to do that to conserve air,' remarked the assassin in an unconcerned tone, 'Carry on.'
'I don't think it is necessary for me to do it, because then that gives you permission from the Crown to kill me,' she replied strongly, withdrawing her blade from the mans neck.
'Ah, a clever girl you are, we definitely caught the right one. Very well, I'll do it.'
With that, the assassin reached in his pocket, pulled some metal darts out and then flicked his wrist several times with obvious practice. Each dart hit home in a soldiers neck, burying deep in their windpipe. For a moment they woke before their bodies relaxed and slumped. Luckily, those holding the rug down did not move from it.
Hearing a groan from beside her, the girl looked and watched with a blank face as her father died.
'Sacrifices have to be made,' said she and the assassin at the same time, in a most curious fashion.
'Well,' started the Assassin while glancing up, 'This sandstorm is getting old. I've done what needed doing, so I guess it's time to end it...'
The girl looked at him curiously, seeing his young face beneath the dark hood.
'You intrigue me...' she began, before he held up a hand to stop her talking. Carefully he reached into his pockets and pulled out a small glass vial. It was filled with what appeared to be normal sand, but the way he handled it indicated otherwise.
When the assassin pulled the stopper from the vial, the sand seemed to swirl up after it. Holding it infront of himself, he tipped it up and the contents fell gracefully onto the sand. Above them, the roaring wind instantly died and silence fell.
'Fancy,' remarked the girl to which the assassin simply smiled smugly.

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As they walked, the man tried to find beauty in the forest to take his mind from the situation. He saw the rain hit the leaves and bounce to the ground onto the slender blades of grass. He even smiled when a squirrel grabbed a broad leaf to get drenched by the water held in it.
After what seemed like eternity, the group came accross a stone dwelling. The man was thrust inside into the darkness. He fell down to his knees and felt the hard stone happily receive some of his blood.
'I suppose you're wondering why you're here,' said a voice, eerie and disjointed. It did not wait for a reply, the question had been rhetorical.
'You are here because I saw your death, and felt the need to protect you at all costs. If I had not sent my servants to retrieve you, then by now I believe you would be dead. Ah, death is such a trivial matter...because very easily I could kill you right now. But not, I am here to protect you.'
The man looked around in the shadows as his eyes adjusted to the light. His clothes steadily dripped onto the ground, also starting to steam. He realised that it was like a furnace in the room. Looking around more, he could see nothing but a bare room.
'You cannot see me, even if you try. You can only feel my warmth and hear my voice. Don't ask what I am, the knowledge will destroy you. I am contained in this room, but tendrils are spread far and wide.'
The man had heard rumours about this entity before, but never believed that it existed. It was said to lay like a cloud over this forest, which was why the weather was so bad. Gaining courage, he spoke:
'What do you want me to do now?'
'Oh, simple. Stay here in this room for the night and then you will be transformed. You will have strength beyond compare and will be feared by all.'
'You mean I'll end up like your midnless servants outside? I don't think I want that.'
He got up quickly and turned to the entrance. All he found was a thick stone wall.
'Oh no, don't think that you're escaping. You have no other choice. I MUST protect you from death.'
The man leant against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting. He placed his head in his hands while the invisible presence smiled to itself. As he thought about what he could do to escape his predicament, he felt his skin begin to tingle. He would have to act fast.
He twisted the solid gold ring around his finger as he desperately tried to think of a way out of his predicament. The room was completely closed in, four stone walls, a stone ceiling and a high wooden roof. The floor was also made of stone.
In his possession were only the worn clothes on his back and the gold ring on his finger. He toyed with the plain ring some more, wondering what it could be used for. He had heard stories of other rings having powers which could help him now, but this one was not one of them.
An idea began to form within his mind. It was a futile plan, but the situation called for it.

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The reached the obelisk just as the sun began to fall beneath the horizon. The girl was shocked at its sheer height and magnitude. Climbing up on to the glass surrounding it, tired from the day�s ordeal, she watched as the assassin began to take things from his robes.
'Why have you brought me here?' she asked, wondering if she really wanted to know the answer.
'You are my prisoner, here is a good place to keep a prisoner,' was his cold reply.
'Yes, but why in the middle of the desert at this obelisk?'
The assassin did not reply, but rather took her hand and placed it in a metal cuff, which he then nailed into the obelisk. He did the same to her other hand, so that she was forced to remain standing. She could also rotate the cuffs which would allow her to sit if she wanted to.
'Well, I'm done,' said the assassin. He then began climbed down from the glass platform and began to walk away.
'What! Are you just going to leave me here? Leave me in the middle of a desert with no food, water or supplies?' she screamed at him. He just kept walking away. 'What kind of monster are you!'
This got his attention. He stopped and turned back to her. Staring her straight in the face, he reached to his belt and pulled out a long and curved dagger.
'I kill to eat. I am an assassin. That is the monster I am.'

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Pulling the ring from his finger, he stood up with mock confidence. He set his shoulders and took a deep breath before firmly addressing the entity within the room.
'Hey, whatever you are, see this ring? It isn't just a normal ring, it is a ring of power which I am going to use to blow the roof of this building unless you let me out,' he announced boldly, his voice wavering only once.
'I cannot let you do either. So my plan is simple, I shall destroy the ring.'
The man had not counted on this, causing his composure to waver. He had hoped that the entity would just have let him leave in return for its safety. He knew that if this building was destroyed, or fresh air was simply able to enter then the entity would be greatly weakened or even destroyed.
'How are you going to do that?' he asked, previous boldness now lost.
'Oh, it's simple really. I always had a fondness for explosions. You might be best to throw the ring on the ground away from you, the consequences may not be pretty if you hold on to it.'
The air around the man began to act like it was filled with electricity. It was strongest around the ring. He held it up between is thumb and forefinger, feeling as it began to heat up. It got hotter and hotter until it grew almost too hot to hold.
'Let go of that ring! It will not serve you well to hold on to it. I have started the destruction of it, and I cannot stop. Please, I do not want to harm you, LET GO OF IT!'
The man thought quickly. The ring would soon explode, taking parts of him with it if he did not get rid of it soon. Yet, the ring was his last chance of salvation from a transformed fate.
'Please, I cannot hold off from destroying it much longer!' The voice now sounded strained like it was in pain.
'Very well,' said the man in a set tone, 'You would not let me out. So I must destroy you.' And with that comment, he threw the ring towards the ceiling.
'I would have made you immortal...' was the last thing he heard before the ring hit the wooden ceiling and promptly exploded into a huge fireball. The ceiling cracked and splintered, pieces of wood flying everywhere. The rain from outside began to fall into the room before a change began to take place.
The room began to waver until the walls themselves seemed to melt into the ground. Fresh, warm air blew through and took away the previous dry heat. The man fell to his knees, happy to be alive. He heard noises behind him so he turned and saw a group of men with various ages. They looked at him with such gratitude, happy that they were free from the clutches of the entity, and back in human form. Now they could return to their families, for some after many long years alone.
There were only trees and plants where the room had once stood. The sun was now shining, and the man knew that he had rid this land of an evil which had loomed over it for many years.
Now he could consider heading back home, but something nagged at the back of his mind. Something was not finished. He let his instincts guide him to the base of a tree which would have marked the back of the room. Kneeling, his hand reached between two roots and pulled out a golden locket.
As he touched it, his mind was enveloped by memories...
A house...a father and mother...looking down into a cot where he was...the father chopping wood...the mother cooking...bright blue eyes staring back at him in a mirror, surrounded by the face of a young girl...happiness turned to pain...the mother crying...the axe left in the wood, no longer used...the girl comforting her mother...rain starting to fall...always rain...rain like tears...the kitchen empty...an empty house...alone...deserted...afraid...
The memories began to fade, until something surfaces stronger than anything else.
A dark clad man walked away from her, before turning and speaking...sand, just sand...lots of sand...hands tied...back to a dark tower...and obelisk...which slowly drained her of her life...save me...come save me...you are my only chance of life...please...save me...find me at the obelisk...save me...save me...save me...
Those last words repeated and faded, until the man knew what he would have to do. He knew that he would have to save the girl, and that if he didn�t he would spend his life in guilt. He knew of the obelisk, when he scanned the horizon, he could see it. So very simply, he got up and began to walk towards it.

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The sun beat down on the girl; her body slumped at the obelisk. Her wrists had deep lacerations, and her breathing was now short. Every now and then she would look up and scan the horizon for something, what she could not be sure, but she knew something was coming.
Earlier she had felt something change. It had been like a wind, rushing through her consciousness. It seemed as if a presence that had always been in her mind had now left, causing her to feel oddly free.
She looked up once more, and saw a dark shape on the horizon. Watching carefully, she saw it come nearer and nearer. It was then that she saw that it was a man. The man she had been waiting for.

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The obelisk was always in his sights. It was his goal, and he could not easily waver from his course if he kept it in sight.
When he finally saw the girl lying slumped on the glass platform, he hastened, hoping that he was not too late. He had to reach her and give her the golden locket, which he knew was hers. It would somehow make things better.

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She watched as his features became visible until she could see the sweat running down his face. He brought something to her, something that she wanted, that she needed. Maybe it was just the chance for her to be free, he was her rescuer. As he reached the glass platform he climbed up it and knelt before her.
'I...am here,' he said, breathing heavily.
'I have been waiting. Please, release my bonds,' she replied, words laced with exhaustion and emotion. He reached forward and with a tug he pulled each bracket from the obelisk. She fell into his arms, and he embraced her tightly.
'Thank you...so very much...' she whispered.
'I had to...I just had to...' he stated, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the locket, 'I believe this is yours...'
He handed it to her, and watched as her eyes lit up.
'I haven't seen this since I was young, very young,' were her words as she fastened it around her neck, 'this brings back so many...memories...'
The man smiled, happy that he could have helped her. In his bliss and exhaustion, he definitely was not expecting the dagger to be plunged into his back, piercing between his ribs and stabbing him through the lung until it came out his front. He gasped, as her bright blue eyes darkened and she smiled menacingly.
'I'm sorry, but it had to be done. Here...this might explain something...' she laughed, before taking his hand and pushing it against the locket.
His mind, which was beginning to fade with each painful breath, was filled with images and feelings once again.
A girl left behind...being found by a dark clad man...an assassin...being taught in his ways...learning to kill...but then the couple which found her living by herself...the assassin swearing he would return...years passing in the monotony of normal life...no sign of the dark clad man...his eventual return with soldiers...claiming the couple had done wrong...her joy at seeing the man again...but his lack of acknowledgement of her...being bound and marched off with the couple...then it skipped to now...the locket revealing to her that this man had killed her father...her father being the entity...intense hatred...and the instincts of a young assassin taking over-
The man collapsed, dead. She pulled the knife from his back and pushed the corpse off of the glass. It fell to the sand with a dull thud.
'You orchestrated it all, didn't you?' she asked the assassin, who had appeared next to her.
'I needed to know that you were worthy to be my apprentice,' was his reply.
'And?'
'You pass.'

Could you please . . . extend the deadline to next Sunday? I really want this competition to continue . . . so busy, I've been . . . .

I have a feeling this is falling apart...my idea is there, half written by now i'm stalling. dam* this.

GOSH as soon as i get the chance i will write my story,

i hate making excuses but i have had a TON of homework and all my fish are sick and diying so i have to keep track of that and blahh blahhh more bussyness. so SORRY. i don't think im doing anything next weekend so if the deadline is extended ill do it then

I think that we should just finish this round and get a new theme...

This needs to keep moving...

WAKEY WAKEY EVERYONE!

I didn't write my story for nothing...so I would like to see this FIGHT CONTINUING!

Jdoggparty?