The Never Ending, Add Your Line To The Story, Story

I think we've all heard of this game too. Someone writes a sentence or two to get a story going. Then everyone else adds a sentence to keep it going. The sentence needs to be relevant to the previous sentence, no abrupt changes unless you are switching between scenes and characters. Lets get creative!!

No I'm not going to start this game. I'm going to let whoever shows up here first do the honors. If you want to start a new story, please do so in a new topic, but we don't want a million of these story games crowding up the forums... We might consider opening a new forum section just for this game if it gets really popular.

DO NOT POST ANYTHING X RATED. ANYONE POSTING GRAPHIC ADULT MATERIAL WILL BE IMMEDIATELY BANNED AND THEIR POST DELETED.

Alright, looks like Zain didn't feel the urge to start something here (assuming the persona or Admin is Ariah in disguise, lol).. guess I may as well


~

The young warrior stepped stepped back from the scene of battle, muscles weary. Eventually, one of the bands of Legion guardsmen the king kept sending after him was going to catch him by surprise. And his mission was too important to be slain in his sleep by some well-meaning, but naive, warrior of the Royal Legion. First wiping his sword on the grass to clean it and then sheathing it, he stepped up to the cliff edge his battle with the guardsmen had gradually migrated toward. He expected more of the barren landscape he'd spent the last few weeks looking at, and perhaps an updraft to cool his sweaty arms and neck; instead, he was met with the last thing he ever expected to see in this water-forsaken place...


[A/N: okay, maybe that was more than a sentence or two... but it's hard to get something started with just one or two sentences Now someone better reply, because I want to know what he just discovered! *looks at Ariah and Zain]

Swooping up the cliff side and rushing far too quickly to allow any reasonable time for reflex, was a crimson dragon, which to the young warrior seemed to look very hungry or angry... Probably both... he thought to himself as he turned and ran away from the cliff's edge, meanwhile searching for a hiding place.

He drew his sword on reflex, though he knew he hadn't a hope in the world for fighting the beast, as he turned heel and fled. The rocky terrain offered little in the way of cover... perhaps if he hid under the pile of his fallen enemies the dumb beast would lose his scent? A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the dragon had, indeed, detected him and was flying closer. With no where else to hide and on the verge of seriously considering either a leap off the cliff or a more honorable - and more certain - death meeting the dragon with his sword, he was stopped in his tracks by a second huge shock in a span of ten seconds. The brute opened it's mouth and started to speak to him!

And I thought the beast was dumb... he thought to himself.

"Far from being dumb young Tristan of the Port Royal Assassins Guild." Surprisingly the dragon's voice was soft and reassuring.

Tristan was quite shocked however and asked, "How is it you know of me?"

Yet another surprise, the beast laughed! "I can read your thoughts. Fear not for ye safety and trust in what I am about to say."

With questions racing through his mind, Tristan listened carefully as he sheathed his sword.




*****
(And yes the rules have changed a bit, you can add up to a paragraph to the story! LOL it's just too difficult to only write one sentence.)

This was all rather much for one who had grown up within the walls of the kingdom capitol to accept- that dragons could speak, and, moreover, read minds? He had never expected to feel anything but threatened by such a beast, yet here he stood, listening to it speak. "I have come to tell you of the grave danger you are in," it was saying. "Not just your life is endangered by the city guardsmen who hound you, but the lives of many more- dragon and human. There is much that rests upon your survival, young Tristan."

Tristan began laughing heartily. "You expect me to believe that I'm that important? I'm afraid that's just ludicrous! I'm an assassin. An assassin!"

The dragon scratched into the ground with a single claw, obviously irritated by the small human, nonetheless waiting patiently for his little tirade to end. "You're being an assassin is what makes you so important. There's something you will be given an order to do... something that will end in your death and the death of countless thousands if you do not heed my words. Now are you ready to listen to me and to spend the next several years of your life preparing for that day?"

Tristan took an intimidated step back as the dragon scratched into the gound, though, oddly, not feeling that urge to grab for his sword in defense. He wondered if it was a spell the dragon was weaving over him to put him at ease.. he'd heard tell of such things as witchcraft existing outside the kingdom.

Listening to what the dragon said, he thought a moment. At present, his only plan was to outrun the guards long enough to live, and once he reached the other side of the barren wasteland he'd be in completely foreign territory and without a plan. What had he to lose by giving the dragon a few moments of his time? And really, the beast could smite him with one claw if he so chose, so he had naught to do but listen. He nodded his aquiescence.

"Alright then." The dragon stated calmly. Before continuing he stopped scratching the ground with his claw, thinking it silly for the human to be disturbed by it, but still not wanting to make his little companion uncomfortable. Finally the dragon continued, "So then. You are familiar with Emperor Gin Motosuwa?"

Tristan just blinked back at the dragon for a moment. "Of course I am, who in the Kingdom isn't? His name is inscribed on all official documents and proclamations." A second later he thought better than to be rude to a dragon, but, thankfully, all it did was chuckle. "You will need to know far more about him than just his name if you are to succeed at what countless others before you have failed, my young assassin." That made Tristan a little nervous.

"What is it you want of me?" he asked.

"Training." The aged beast shifted its bulk from one limb to another as the words slid effortlessly past its forked tongue. "You need more than just your cloaked vestament in the future that lies ahead of you. Today, wars are fought with pens and ink on parchment. Your daggers and poisons will do us little good."

"Us? Training?" young Tristan's voice betrayed his surpise.

It was at this point the dragon produced a small metal Spork and plucking upon it's tiny tines produced a Haunting melody. The dragon then seemed to turn into a gasious form for a second and then formed it self into the form of a cute if not Tomboyish female. She bowed, and proceeded to introduce her self.

"I am Pura." She rose form her bowing, twirled and curtsied.

Tristan gasped and his eyes grew wide. "I - I - I uh... I thought you were a male dragon..."

Pura began giggling. "Well that's what you get for assuming. You and I are going to be friends now. We'll hardly ever be apart. There is much you have yet to learn."

"Is all this really necessary?" Tristan grumbled. "And what was with that spork thing?!"

"Don't knock the spork, Tristan! I'm a djinn and sporks and ponies are my thing. Ummm... I kind of ate my pony while in dragon form, but still I can still play with my spork. So, respect to the enginuity of the Culinary Mechanists!" She waved the spork above her head, "For pony!".

Tristan shook his head this djinn, or whatever she was, had been in her bottle too long.
"...about the training? The threat?" He asked.

"Oh, right," the young lady said, looking rather abashed. "Sometimes I spend too long in the more serious dragon form, and go kinda overboard when I'm in my more carefree human form. Now, about the training." She stepped closer to him, still wielding that odd spork thing absentmindedly as she spoke.

"We have need of your assassin abilities, young Tristan. We need you to train me in the arts of stealth and killing. I can breathe fire and kill a whole colony, but I need someone to teach me how to slay without detection." Tristan wondered who this 'we' was.

"What about the useless daggers and poisons? Aren't my skills as an assasin useless as you said before?" Tristan was more confused now than ever.

Pura rolled her eyes. "Yes Tristan, poor mortal." She shook her head again. "Your skills are useless to you. To me, however, they're everything I need to succeed. I need to learn more about the war taking place on parchments and in shadows, as opposed to battlefields nowadays."

"Not to mention," Pura added, "how to work the Magic of the Ancient Sporkmeisters into this. You'll be learning more about that cult as you spend more time with me and my people, I suppose." At that, Tristan paused with the question already coming out of his mouth- he'd be staying with them? And who was 'them'? He'd been on the run from the King's men, prepared to run to the far edge of the desert and make a life with whatever he found out there, when instead he was being told he'd be spending time with this seemingly insane girl who could turn into a dragon and had a thing for sporks? Did that count as abduction, or being saved?

"Call it salvation, young Tristan- both of ours," Pura said. He'd forgotten she could read his thoughts. "Now, if you're done gaping at me like a codfish, it's time to get to work! I need to take you to meed a few people!" She went into that temporarily gaseous form before resuming her Dragon body.

Tristan's mouth was agape with shock. "Am I supposed to sit on your back or something?"

"No." Pura said with great sarcasm. "You're going to hang onto my tail for dear life while I fly hundreds of feet in the air. Of course you're going to sit on my back you oaf."

"What about some details, uh - Pura - was it. What exactly is all this about?" Tristan hesitantly climbed onto Pura's back as she lay hunkered close to the ground so he could reach.

"I've already told you, you will be given an assignment, if you fail it will result in the deaths of thousands and this country will fall into ruin. Without training me, and without me helping you, you WILL fail the mission. I thought I had already made this clear." Pura took to the sky and Tristan held on tightly and tried not to scream with terror as they flew away from the cliff and the ground seemed as if it were only a blur of color below them.

After regaining his balance and composure, Tristan asked, "But what is this mission that I will be given?"

He was still digesting that bit of information - the part about being responsible for the ultimate doom of thousands of people and the kingdom itself if he didn't cooperate - when she swept them into the sky, muscles coiling beneath Tristan as he held on for dear life. He shut his eyes tightly, wishing the feeling of having left his stomach behind would go away. Being a skilled assassin, he was no stranger to heights, having had several narrow escapes by way of rooftops and trees before. But this was just unnatural! This dragon fair stank of magic! And that spork of hers- he'd bet a rich man's purse that it was an instrument of magic, too. What had he gotten himself into, he moaned in his head.

Either their destination was not so far off, or Tristan missed just how insanely fast the Dragon was flying by having his eyes closed, for it was scarcely a few moments before they alighted. He shakily got down, trying to unclench his hands and stop his knees from wobbling. "Where are we?" he asked breathily.

Tattered flags flapped aimlesly in the wind. Tents and fires lay srawled hap-hazardly about the encampment in which Tristan found himself. Pura gazed momentarily towards a large, white tent. Tristan followed her gaze and saw an aged man standing in the entrance lookng expectantly at him.

"We're at the encampment and home of the greatest men to walk these lands. This will be our home for the time of training and making preparations." Pura's voice grew softer with the transformation back to her human form.

Seeing that Tristan was too dumbfounded to even move, Pura placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke reassuringly. "I could not answer your question as to what your future mission would be, so I didn't. But this man can, and will. You must have faith in him as you have no other. He will reveal to you everything you need to know. Now go, you must counsel with him, he has no words for me at this time. I'll give you a tour of the village when he's finished with you."

Tristan decided that since he obviously was simply not going to take all this in at present, he would stop trying. So instead of attempting to make sense of all that had happened the past ten minutes - or so it felt that he had first been confronted with the dragon scarcely ten minutes ago - he walked up to the old man. The girl Pura had walked away from him and there was no one else in sight, nor elsewhere to go, so really it was the only thing for Tristan to do.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan thought he saw the old man.... shimmer was the only word for it. His image wavered, as if he were a magically-conjured image, and behind the old man mirage he thought he saw the barest of outlines of a far larger form. Perhaps draconian, like Pura's other form? But when he tried to look properly, it was gone, and the old man's form was firmly there. He greeted Tristan.

Maybe I'm just tired? Tristan thought to himself. Then again, with all that had happened he also thought it wasn't unreasonable to believe the old man was not what he seemed. The two men entered the tent. Tristan wasn't sure what to expect, but was somewhat surprised to see plants all over the inside of the tent, hanging here and there, lined up around the edge and in the center. There were blankets on the floor, on which the two sat. Still in shock Tristan tried to say something but kept stopping short with his words in a jumble.

"Ease your mind young friend. There is much to explain to you. Would you like a drink before we begin?" The old man motioned towards a jar and two cups at his side.

Tristan nodded. The old figure moved with ease and grace to the jar and poured some sweet wine into the glasses. He held one towards Tristan and the young man took it and drank heartily. The old man smiled and sipped his beverage. He looked Tristan up and down and Tristan saw a glint of approval in his eyes.
"You'll make a fine addition to us here, Tristan. A fine addition!" The old man's voice was hoarse and his small mouth smiled very easily.
"Okay..." Tristan's answer was one of doubt and apprehension.
"I am Talvar." Said the old man, "I am the sage and guide of these people here. I am their hope and you will be their glory."

Tristan drank deeply of the wine the man provided him with, glad for the cool liquid. His private stores of water had been running low before Pura had taken him here. He considered what he was going to say to the old man. He thought that what he really should be saying was, 'Hey mister, I don't know how you all seem to know my name, but I don't like strangers messing around in my head. And I don't take kindly to being someone else's puppet, either. I live and will die by my own hand, not because you will it so.' But, instead of saying what his gut told him to, he said, "I greet you, Talvar," the customary respectful salutation.

"I am thankful for your hospitality, Talvar," he said after a second, "but I don't really understand what it is you wish me to do. Pura mentioned something about training?"