tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58073817233726271932024-03-14T05:29:02.788-07:00Story Time with the Crafty DragonThere's nothing like a good story, and hopefully I can provide a few. Sit back, relax, and enjoy...Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-40647319121665006482015-03-14T20:01:00.000-07:002015-03-14T20:01:22.202-07:00On HarvestersSomeone (hi, Kristine!) asked me for the back story on the Harvesters mentioned in the beginning of "Angel." I hadn't thought about it much, or at least I didn't think I had, but it turns out I actually had a pretty good idea of what they were. Wonderful hubby Dave helped me out with some of the details. :-) Here's some background on the Harvesters for y'all to enjoy. :-)<br />
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Harvesters are chosen (“Harvested,” if you will) as very
young children. They’re chosen at random by older Harvesters. In areas of the
world where people still leave unwanted babies on hillsides, exposed to the
elements, some of them become Harvesters. The children who are taken by the
Harvesters are forgotten by their families and the rest of the world. Their
documentation disappears, and no one ever looks for them. No one knows where
exactly the first Harvesters came from. Their teachings say that the first ones
were selected by Death himself, and that he is responsible for the lists that
each Harvester receives monthly. However, no one knows for sure, of course.</div>
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They are raised in the Center, a place that has grown as the
world’s population has grown. It’s a city big enough to accommodate all of the
Harvesters. They are raised and educated in such a way that they can fit in
anywhere. The Center is out of phase with the rest of the world, so
non-Harvesters can’t find it.</div>
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Harvesters live like most other people. They fall in love
and get married, but they don’t have children. However, anyone who wants to
raise Harvested children can do so. They become the closest thing the children
have to families and the children will refer to them as such. Not all of the
children are part of families, though. Some, such as Angel, grow up in what
basically amounts to an orphanage.</div>
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Harvesters are not immortal, though they are immune to
disease and most poisons, with the exception of aconite. They live roughly 150
years, but don’t show signs of age until a few years (five or so) before they
die. Harvesters are also immune to the touch of other Harvesters. When they
die, they just fall asleep and don’t wake up. It’s said that Death harvests the
Harvesters personally, but again, no one knows for sure.</div>
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Contact with a Harvester causes death, though it isn’t
immediate, and only if that person is on the Harvester’s list. It can be a
touch as simple as brushing against someone while passing through a doorway, a
handshake, or just the touch of the tip of a finger when accepting a drink. But
that person will be dead by midnight. A Harvester’s touch won’t affect anyone
not on their own list. Each Harvester receives their new Deathlist at the
beginning of every month, and they must come into contact with each person on
the list before the month is over. They do not choose the manner of death for
anyone on their list, and the only set “expiration date” for anyone on the list
is the last day of the month.</div>
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People don’t remember Harvesters once they leave the area,
but they have to actually move on, not just leave the room or building, or
leave to use the bathroom. This allows a Harvester to do various odd jobs to
earn some money (generally under-the-table work that doesn’t require ID), but also
ensures that they can’t be reported as a suspect if deaths are ever
investigated (which sometimes happens if there are a large number of deaths in
one area, or if any deaths seem overly suspicious). They are perceived as
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The governing body of the Harvesters is the Council,
consisting of six men and six women. A Harvester is eligible to be chosen for
the Council once he or she turns 70 and can serve a term of ten years. After
that time, he or she goes into semi-retirement, meaning that they aren’t
required to do as much Harvesting, and serve in an advisory position for the
Council. Often they also go into business in our world, with most of the money
they earn going back to the Center. Since they are then living and working in
an area for an extended time, they are not forgotten by the people around them,
until they decide to move on (which they have to do after a few years, since
they don’t show signs of age). They are not the only Harvesters working outside
the Center, however. Any Harvester over 80 can choose to semi-retire (a
Harvester continues Harvesting until he or she begins to show age, at which
time they stop getting Deathlists) by sending a statement of their wish to do
so to the Council. At this time, they can either get jobs in the real world
(with any necessary documentation being provided by the Council) and send most
of their earnings back to the Center, or do various sorts of work at the Center
(work at the orphanage, operate small farms or greenhouses, work for the
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obey the laws of whatever area they happen to be in. The primary reason for
this is because to do otherwise would be taking advantage of the fact that
people forget them when they move on. Therefore, there would be no way for them
to be prosecuted for theft, murder, or any other crime. Also, they are
absolutely forbidden to kill another Harvester. Since a Harvester is immune to
the touch of another Harvester, the only way for one to kill another is to use
a weapon of some kind, or else to poison the other with aconite. Aconite
doesn’t grow at the Center, so it must be harvested from our world. The only
reason aconite is harvested is to kill a Harvester who has been found guilty of
committing a crime, whether in our world or at the Center. This may seem harsh,
but it is felt that a Harvester willing to abuse his or her power in our world,
or one willing to kill a fellow Harvester, is a detriment to their society as a
whole, and one who cannot be an effective Harvester in our world. Death is a
part of life, true, but Harvesters are only supposed to touch those whose time
has come to die, not deliberately decide to take someone’s life whose name is
not on his or her Deathlist.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The Deathlists are delivered psychically to each Harvester
every month. They know the names, appearances, and locations of every person
who is on their list. The people on the list are generally, but not always,
grouped in the same area. Again, there is no set “expiration date” for anyone
on the list—they must simply be touched by a Harvester by the end of the month.
Once they have been touched, they will be dead by midnight of that day. And
again, the Harvester doesn’t choose the manner of death for anyone on the list.
So someone might be eating a handful of popcorn, turn to walk into the kitchen,
slip and fall on a wet spot on the floor, and choke on the popcorn. Someone
else might be hit by a car, and someone else might die from being hit in the
head by a ricocheting billiard ball. It’s pretty random, but these things could
have happened to them at any time—being touched by a Harvester just makes
things like this more likely to happen.</div>
Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-74456089575316344752015-03-14T11:30:00.001-07:002015-03-14T11:33:41.936-07:00AngelThis is a new story that's been kicking around in my head for a while. So far it's only a few paragraphs, but I know where it's going (I think). Just have to get there. Meanwhile, please enjoy the beginning of "Angel," by yours truly. :)<br />
<br />
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Name="page number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
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She sat in a dimly lit corner of the only slightly better
lit bar, like a hunter patiently waiting for her prey. A slight smile hovered
around the corners of her lips as she considered which of the bar’s patrons
would be her first victim. Calling this run-down dive a bar was being generous—it
did serve beer (two brands: Lousy and Lousy Lite), and it did have a faithful
clientele of people willing to drink the stuff, but that was about where the
similarity ended. Well, except for the lone pool table in the corner, which was
currently surrounded by some rowdy locals who seemed to be knocking the balls
around more for something to do while arguing (mostly) good-naturedly, than
actually playing a game.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
knew who was going to die, of course. She had a list. Nine of the people in
this joint were going to die, and for no other reason than that their names
were on her list for this month. And the month was almost over. Normally she
wouldn’t take out so many at once, but it just so happened that they had all gathered
here tonight. Chances like this didn’t come along often, so she took advantage
of them when they did. It wasn’t personal; it was just her job. As a Harvester,
she got a new list every month, telling her whose time was up. There was never
a specific “expiration date,” and she didn’t have the power to decide how
anyone died. She just had to make sure that she came into contact with each of
those people before the month was out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
life wasn’t one that she had chosen; it had been chosen for her. She didn’t
have a name, or at least not one that she could definitively call her own (she
did tend to introduce herself as Angel most of the time, simply because she
found it amusing). All she really knew about herself was that she’d been
selected for this life when she was too young to do anything about it. She had
no memories of her family (though surely she’d at least had parents) or of a
home (the center where she’d been raised could hardly be considered a home).
Her appearance was striking and attractive—when people were paying attention to
her. When she passed beyond their notice, she faded into fuzziness in their
memories.</div>
Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-76989740588617049342012-06-21T18:16:00.003-07:002012-12-13T20:02:38.237-08:00The Scooter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKkQSjyeHnU5lnuaj8GgySEUd8CuYEv6WXbE7Sei4xk8LN8e4VV9BwbOPmUpJWIJWWDV_tHq801E6CZH4kCuAA0YsZSzzfiP47Wr4Ilu5_8BI2cD2c5rfhyphenhyphenhJF_dbCO89rIy2bom9pdDn/s1600/Sad+scooter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKkQSjyeHnU5lnuaj8GgySEUd8CuYEv6WXbE7Sei4xk8LN8e4VV9BwbOPmUpJWIJWWDV_tHq801E6CZH4kCuAA0YsZSzzfiP47Wr4Ilu5_8BI2cD2c5rfhyphenhyphenhJF_dbCO89rIy2bom9pdDn/s320/Sad+scooter.jpg" width="203" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> The scooter sat next to the old stone wall, sitting forlornly in the rain. Although it was still in pretty good shape, on closer inspection, one could see that it had been around for a while, and had been well used and loved. A dent on its upright bar had come from the time when its owner had run into a low cement barrier, winding up with scrapes and cuts on her arms and knees. Chipped and faded paint were testament to the years it had spent in all kinds of weather. Yes, it had definitely been well used and much loved.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jamie thought back to her 8th birthday party. All her family had been there, as well as her three best friends from school. There had been cake and ice cream, music and games, and presents, of course. Funny how all these years later she couldn't remember anything she'd gotten that year except that scooter. That had definitely been the highlight of the party. Jamie had wanted a scooter for months; all of her friends had them, and even though they shared with her, she still felt a bit left out when they went riding around the neighborhood. She felt too silly to try to run alongside and keep up with them. But now she had a scooter of her very own! And what a scooter it was! It was pink and white, with Hello Kitty logos all over it. It had shiny chrome on the handlebar and wheels, and it even had pink and white tassels on each handle. Jamie fell instantly in love with her scooter, and nothing would do but for her to go for a ride immediately. Her friends all had their scooters, as well, so the four girls spent the rest of the afternoon happily cruising the neighborhood sidewalks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Time went by, as it usually does, much too quickly. Jamie spent hours upon hours with her scooter. She rode it everywhere she possibly could, and even some places she couldn't...like into the neighbor's ditch one mid-summer evening when she was 10. She'd been following a footpath that had been traveled so much and was so well-packed that her scooter's wheels had no trouble rolling along it. It crested a small hill and continued onto the neighbor's property, ending in what looked, in the twilight, to be just a soft, grassy field. Jamie decided to see just how fast she and her scooter could go down the hill, and kicked off. She gathered momentum, and soon she was going fast enough to feel the wind blowing her hair back from her face. She threw her head back and crowed with laughter, relishing in the sense of freedom. All of a sudden, she looked back to the path before her, noticing too late the rock directly ahead. It wasn't a terribly big rock, but it was big enough to bounce the scooter up into the air, along with Jamie, and they both landed--KERPLUNK!--in the neighbor's ditch. Fortunately the ditch was full, and Jamie wasn't hurt beyond a few bruises and scratches. The scooter was also all right, having just suffered a few minor chips to its paint.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Over the next few years, Jamie and her friends acquired bicycles and roller skates, and two of the girls even got skateboards, and Jamie enjoyed all these things, but she always came back to her scooter and spent time just riding around on it. She sometimes pretended she was a pharaoh in a chariot, and sometimes that she was skimming on a magical platform through the universe. Her scooter took her on many adventures. Eventually, though, Jamie got too big to ride the scooter, and so it got left in the backyard, leaning up against the stone wall that fenced in the property. The sun faded its paint and hailstorms further chipped its finish. Jamie's mother suggested many times that she give the scooter away, but Jamie just couldn't bring herself to do it. She had too many fond memories of it, she said. And so it stayed where it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Shortly after Jamie turned 18, her parents decided they were going to sell the old house. Since Jamie was going off to college out of state and was going to be staying with friends, they said there was no need for the rest of them to stay in such an old place. It constantly needed something else repaired, and they just didn't want to deal with it any more. So the family held yard sales and donated to charities the things that didn't sell. Everything they decided to keep got packed neatly into boxes and labeled. Jamie got her things ready to go to college. Finally, the house was empty. It had been sold to a family with two young children, a boy and a girl. The girl was about 8 years old or so. The realtor had described the house as a "fixer-upper," and the parents were eager to start with the fixing. The kids were looking forward to making new friends in the neighborhood. After a last look around the house and yard, Jamie and her family were ready to leave. Her parents and brothers were going to their new house, and Jamie was headed out of state to her friend's house. Her car was packed to the brim with all her favorite possessions--all but one, that is. Her beloved scooter just wouldn't fit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And so Jamie wept a few tears for the piece of her childhood that she was leaving behind, caressed the scooter's handlebars lovingly one last time, plucking off the now-bedraggled tassels as she did so, and turned to walk away. But she realized that she couldn't leave quite yet. She tucked the tassels in her back pocket, then climbed on the scooter for one last ride around the garden paths. She threw her head back to feel the wind in her hair, and for a few moments she was a little kid again, with not a care in the world except getting home in time for dinner. All too soon, though, Jamie came back to her starting point, and had to come back to the present. She wistfully parked the scooter in its place against the old stone wall and went to her car. When she got in, she hung the tassels from the rear view mirror for good luck. She looked at the scooter and said, "So long, old friend. We sure had fun together. Hope the new kids like you." Then, feeling a bit silly, she pulled out of the driveway as a warm summer rain started to fall.</span>Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-973142244464685762011-11-12T21:02:00.000-08:002011-11-12T21:19:54.235-08:00The EndHere's the fifth and final chapter of Dennis and Norman's first adventure! Feedback is appreciated, but mostly I just hope y'all have enjoyed the story!<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> <b> Chapter 5</b></span></span></span></span> <br />
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> The next few days passed in much the same way as the previous one. Norman and Dennis would talk to each other about themselves; Norman would play his flute while Dennis danced through the skies; and in the evenings, Dennis would generally catch their dinner. As they traveled, Dennis told Norman more about the world around them.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Now, take mermaids,” the dragon said one day. “You've got two types, fresh-water and salt-water. The fresh-water mermaids are friendlier than the ones who live in the oceans. I think it's because the water is warmer. It also might be because people generally aren't sailing big ships full of shiny treasure on the rivers or lakes. And gryphons are getting scarcer all the time. They're mostly up north now, where there aren't so many humans. They're very fierce, strong, and brave, but not real smart. Makes them easy for humans to hunt, unfortunately, which is why they migrated. And ogres have always kept to themselves. I don't know much about them, really. We dragons, though, can be at home pretty much anywhere. Mostly that's because we can camouflage ourselves, but also because we come in so many different sizes. There are some of us that are only about the size of cats. Those guys actually stay pretty far from humans, because they worry that people will try to keep them as pets.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman was astonished at Dennis's knowledge of the world around them, and even more so to learn that there was more to know than he'd ever dreamed. He asked, “Will you take me to see mermaids and gryphons, Dennis? And of course I'd love to see the other kinds of dragons!”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Sure, kid,” Dennis replied. “We'll go wherever you want to go. But right now, we've got to figure out what we're going to do once we reach that island, and how we're going to get the Dragon's Apple from that ogre.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> So the two young adventurers made their plans, tentatively at first, waiting until they actually reached the island to make them firm. After traveling for four days, they reached the east coast, and could see several islands just a short way offshore.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Which one are we headed to, Dennis?” Norman asked with barely suppressed excitement.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Dennis pointed to the largest island in the group. “That one there,” he said. “It's good that it's so big. We'll be able to sneak up on the ogre better that way.” He flapped his wings to lift them into the air, and a few minutes later he was circling high over their destination in order to get an idea of the island's layout, and to see where exactly the gem might be. Soon enough, Dennis and Norman could both see a clearing near the island's center. There was a kind of rude hut to one side, and in the center was a pedestal with something gleaming brightly atop it. As they hovered overhead, what appeared to be a large, brutish man with a coarse sack slung over his shoulder stomped through the clearing and into the hut. Shortly afterward, smoke began to trickle upward from the chimney.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Dennis took them a short distance away, and then he and Norman sat down to cement their plans. They decided that the best thing to do would be to surprise the ogre, grab the gem, and fly away as fast as they could. And since Norman was determined to challenge the creature, Dennis would provide backup if needed. Once they had the details worked out, they crept silently to the edge of the clearing, where Dennis left to circle around to the opposite side, where he could make himself look like an extension of the pile of boulders which was sitting there.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman hid himself amongst a clump of tall, leafy bushes on his side of the clearing. He could see the gem sitting on the pedestal, the sun glinting off it's reddish-pink facets. The ogre had come out of his hut and was sitting in profile to Norman, his head bent over his meal. “Most likely the remains of the last poor soul who disturbed him!” Norman thought to himself, slightly more nervous than he cared to admit.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Knowing that Dennis was nearby to provide help should he need it, the young knight took a few silent, calming breaths, stealthily drew his sword, readied what he hoped would be a terrifying battle cry, and charged through the bushes. At the sound of branches cracking, the ogre leaped to his feet, spinning to face Norman. The youth charged forward, yelling at the top of his lungs. Unfortunately, </span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Norman was so busy running and yelling that he forgot to watch where he was putting his feet, and tripped over a head-sized stone in his path. “Yaaaaaaar-oof!” Norman exclaimed as he fell, while at the same moment his outstretched sword jabbed the ogre in the shin.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"> The ogre yowled in pain for a moment, clapping his great hands to the wound. Then, visibly collecting himself, he stood and glared down at Norman, who was now standing somewhat shakily before him. “I say!” the ogre exclaimed. “What the devil do you think you're doing? Do you </span><span lang="en-US"><i>normally</i></span><span lang="en-US"> go around waving swords at people who are eating their dinners? Well?” </span></span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> This sounded all to familiar to Norman, who was gaping up at the ten-foot tall ogre. Finally, he found his voice enough to stammer, “W-w-well, n-no. But I've come to take that gem there, and I'm not taking no for an answer!” This last was said with a bit more bravado because Dennis was no longer disguised and had come to stand behind him.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"> The ogre looked from Dennis to Norman and back again, clapped a hand to his forehead, shook his head, and muttered, “I should have known. There's </span><span lang="en-US"><i>always</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> a dragon involved!” He looked at Dennis again and </span></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">said, “You told him that an ogre took the gem, didn't you?”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Well, yes. . .” Dennis replied.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> “And did you tell him </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>why </i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">it was taken, or just that it used to belong to the dragons, and it has a curse on it, and that the two of you should come get it?”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Um, I don't know why it was taken,” Dennis began, with a slightly abashed look on his face.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Of course you don't,” said the ogre. “That would be asking entirely too much. All right,” he sighed, “why don't you come sit down, and we'll talk. Can I offer you some ham, or something to drink?” he asked with at least an attempt at politeness. When Dennis and Norman both declined, he said, “Suit yourselves, but I'm going to finish my lunch. Oh, and by the way, my name's Bob.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> After Norman introduced himself and Dennis, Bob the ogre asked, “So, what's your story, kid? Let me guess, you've just been knighted, and you decided that you need to 'make a name for yourself' </span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">or something equally silly. Sound about right?”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman said “Well, yes, something like that. After I was knighted, I was originally going to slay the fiercest dragon in the kingdom. But then I met Dennis, and he offered to let me travel with him instead. And he told me about the Dragon's Apple, and even though it might be cursed, I wanted to find it anyhow. And, well, maybe fight the ogre guarding it, and then take it back to the king, to show that I'm worthy of being a knight. I just want to make my mother proud,” he finished in a slightly plaintive voice.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Bob said, “Well, I can understand that, Norman. Everyone wants to make their parents proud. And the gem </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>is</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> cursed, but if you really want it, I'll let you take it back to your king. My family's been guarding it for centuries, ever since we were asked to take it from the dragon kingdom. It gets a little old, sometimes, always having to keep everyone away.”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> “You were </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>asked</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> to take it?” exclaimed Dennis. “But why? Dragons never willingly give up part of their hoard!”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> “Well, normally that's true,” said Bob. “But the king dragon at the time—I forget his name—had dug up this stone, and boy, did he ever like it. Thought it brought him luck, too, because he suddenly had all the female dragons just flocking all over him. But then he realized it wasn't just female dragons that were coming around. It was </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>every</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> female, of </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>every</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> species, even some humans that got too close. The only creatures that weren't affected were ogres—seems we're immune to it, or something. Anyway, that king dragon sent for the head of my clan, and begged him to take the stone far away, and to keep it away from dragons or anyone else who wanted it. My ancestor agreed, brought it here, and called it the Dragon's Apple, because of its color, you see. We've done a pretty good job keeping it away from the world, but rumors to get out, and every once in a while one of us has to chase away some treasure-seeker. But as I said, it gets old having to keep everyone away, and without the gem, I might be able to have a normal life.”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Norman and Dennis exchanged glances, then the knight said, “Well, if you really don't mind getting rid of it, I'll take it back to my king. The curse doesn't sound </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>that</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> bad.”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Bob replied, “Well, just remember I warned you. I'll tell you exactly what the curse is. The curse is that members of the opposite sex will be attracted to whoever is holding the gem, whether they're male or female. So be careful who you give it to. And if you ever need to get rid of it, you can bring it back here.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “I'll keep that in mind, though I don't think the king will want to get rid of it,” Norman replied. He walked over to the pedestal and picked up the gem. “Such a lot of fuss for such a small thing,” he said. “Hard to believe it could cause any trouble.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> After thanking the ogre for allowing them to take the gem, and for his advice, Norman climbed on Dennis's back once more, and the two took off, heading west. Everything seemed fine until they crossed the small stretch of water separating the ogre's island from the mainland. As soon as they passed over the coast, they noticed that birds began to follow them.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “That's kind of weird,” Norman said, looking over his shoulder at the birds.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Want to know what's really weird? They're all female birds,” responded Dennis. “Don't look so surprised,” he continued, “of course I can tell they're females, I've got better eyesight than you do, you know.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “That must be part of the curse,” said Norman. “But I still don't think it's as much trouble as Bob was saying it would be.”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> They continued on, with the birds following them, and more continuously showing up. Eventually, though, they noticed that as they passed through different areas, the types of birds trailing behind them changed; no bird tried to follow outside of its natural habitat. As the day drew to a close, Dennis landed in one of the campsites that they had used on their eastward journey. Norman dismounted and began setting up for the night, while Dennis went hunting for supper. </span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> When Norman wandered over to the small stream nearby for some water, he noticed that there were fish swarming near the banks. They appeared to follow him as he walked alongside the water's edge. “Weird,” he thought, then shook his head and headed back toward the fire he'd built. As he moved around camp, Norman saw mice following him but trying not to get too close. And then when he sat down, there were a lot of assorted animals watching him from the trees. He could see foxes, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, all just clustered near the edges of the trees, and all staring at him. When Dennis got back, Norman said, “Look at all those animals, Dennis. They've been all around here ever since we arrived! Did you have any animals following you?”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Dennis replied, “No, but remember, Bob said that the curse affected whoever is holding the gem. I know it's in your saddlebags, but that must still count as </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>you</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> holding it, since they're </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>your</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> saddlebags.” He glanced over at the animals in the trees. “They don't seem to be bothering you, though, so maybe it's not so much a curse as a nuisance.”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Maybe,” Norman said. “Well, let's see if we can ignore them for now, and have some dinner. You know, I'm really glad I met you. Not only have I had more of an adventure than I would have had on my own, but I'm getting places much faster! Can you imagine taking an extra few weeks to get back home, with all these animals all around me all the time? It would be horrible!” Dennis laughed and agreed with him. The two friends followed the evening routine they'd established, and then went to sleep.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> When they woke up the next morning, there were even more animals, crowding closer to their sleeping forms than they had while dragon and knight were awake. Dennis and Norman both tried shooing the animals away, to no avail. Finally, they gave up, and resigned themselves to ignoring the other animals while they prepared to leave. After breakfast, Norman once again climbed on Dennis's back, who then launched the two of them into the air. Looking down, Norman could see the animals looking longingly upward before running to follow their progress to the best of their abilities. The </span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">young knight almost felt sorry for the animals, and hoped the effects of the curse would wear off soon.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> This was the pattern for the companions for the next couple of weeks. Everywhere they went, they, or specifically, Norman, were surrounded by adoring females of all species. Some were braver than others, but as long as Dennis was around, none dared come too close, for fear of becoming a tasty snack. At first, Dennis and Norman both thought it was kind of funny to have so many admirers, but by the time they were nearing the king's castle, they'd had enough. They were lucky enough to avoid other people, right up until they arrived at the castle. When they got there, the sight of a dragon landing in the courtyard threw the various courtiers into an uproar, as well as sending all of the nearby animals into a state of panic. When the dust settled, Norman dismounted called out, “It's all right! It's just me, Norman, with my friend Dennis! We have a gift for the king!” </span></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> To his dismay, Norman noticed that the curse was beginning to affect the females in the castle, just as it had while in the countryside. The animals were drawing nearer, as were the women of the castle, both noble and common alike. Norman really hoped the king would arrive soon.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Just as several of the noblewomen had worked up their courage to come near to Dennis's side, the king came into the courtyard and said, “Well, well, if it isn't young Norman! I thought you were going to </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>slay</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> a dragon, not bring one home! Is this the gift you mentioned?”</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Just as Dennis was drawing himself up and huffily saying, “Certainly not!” Norman patted him on the shoulder and replied, “No, your Majesty. This is my friend, Dennis. He's been an enormous help to me. With him, I've flown to the eastern shore, where we met an ogre and retrieved a precious gem, which I've brought back to you as proof of my worthiness. I should warn you, however, that it's cursed. It attracts all the members of the opposite sex to the person who holds the gem.” With that, he pulled the pale red Dragon's Apple out of his saddlebags and held it out to the king.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “This is a fine gift, indeed, young Norman. I'm honored that you've brought it to me. I think I can handle a little curse,” the king said with a smile. “What are your plans now?”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman answered, “Well, for right now, I'm going to go see to my mother, and introduce her to Dennis. Then, if he wants to, I thought about traveling some more. Maybe head north this time to see if I can find some gryphons.” With that, he remounted, and Dennis took off out of the courtyard. Norman noticed with relief that the women had completely ignored his departure and were congregating on the king. “We might want to stick around for a few days,” he said to Dennis.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Oh? Why's that?”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> “Because,” laughed Norman, “his Majesty might want us to come and get that gemstone and return it to Bob!”</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> With an answering laugh, Dennis followed Norman's directions to his home. He hoped they could head out on another adventure soon. He could tell that he and this young human were going to be the very best of friends.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div>Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-90820001107825091752011-11-11T09:40:00.000-08:002012-12-13T20:03:43.295-08:00Fourth Chapter<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, folks, this is what you've been waiting for--all new material!! Enjoy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chapter 4</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Norman and Dennis traveled this way for several hours. Norman played every tune he could think of, and Dennis danced gently through the air in time to the music. Eventually, though, Norman got tired of playing and tucked the flute back in his bag. He watched the passing scenery with great interest. Below him rolled the same patchwork of fields and forests, with towns showing up every so often, in all their various shades of green, gray, and brown. The clouds above him looked puffy and soft, and seemed almost close enough to touch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a while, Dennis craned his head around to look at Norman. “Have you ever heard of the Dragon's Apple?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Norman was instantly curious. “No, I haven't,” he said. “What is that, a special fruit?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“No,” Dennis chuckled, “it's a gem. It's called the Dragon's Apple because it's kind of pale red color, and it's about the size of a large apple. It disappeared from the dragon kingdom centuries ago. Legend says that a clan of ogres took it and is guarding it on an island off the east coast somewhere.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“We should go find it!” Norman exclaimed. “Then I can fight the ogre and prove I'm worthy of being called a knight!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis gave the youth a level look, cocked his eyebrow, and said, “Really? You're on <i>that</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> kick again? Listen, kid, I don't think that getting into a fight with someone who just happens to be a dragon, or an ogre, or even a gryphon, is going to somehow prove that you deserve to be a knight. You went through the training, right?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, yes. . .”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“And your king knighted you, right? Did the whole tap-you-on-the-shoulder, “I dub thee” bit?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, yes, but he said the custom is for new knights to perform a task or something to prove their worth. I had originally planned to slay a dragon, but you and I both know how that turned out. So now, I figure I can fight an ogre. Maybe I can just, you know, beat him a little so he says “uncle” or something. That should count, right?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis chuckled and said, “Yes, I suppose it would. So, I take it you want to go looking for the Dragon's Apple?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Yes, definitely!” Norman said enthusiastically. “What else does the legend say about it?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, not much, really. Just that it's been missing for a long time, is guarded by ogres, and it's on an island. Oh, and I think I might have heard something about a curse or something. But I could be wrong about the curse.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; font-style: normal;"> “A curse?! What </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>kind</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> of a curse? Am I going to break out in boils, or fall over dead if I touch the gem? What kind of a curse, Dennis?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; font-style: normal;"> “Calm down, kid. I only said there </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>might </i><span style="font-style: normal;">be a curse. Just like I only said there </span><i>might</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> be a gem, and there </span><i>might </i><span style="font-style: normal;">be an ogre. We're just going to go looking for it. We might not find the right island, or if we do, we might not find the Dragon's Apple</span><i> or </i><span style="font-style: normal;">an ogre. Just relax. Right now, we're just on an adventure. I've got a rough idea of where the island's supposed to be, and we should be there in just a few days. Let's just take those days as they come, okay?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; font-style: normal;"> Norman took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I'll try to stay calm. So, are you saying that </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>if </i><span style="font-style: normal;">there's a curse, you don't know what it is?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, yes, I guess that's what I'm saying,” Dennis said cheerfully. “That's not a problem, is it?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With a gulp, Norman replied, “No, I guess not. Let's go find that gem!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“That's the spirit! Okay, it's going to take us a few days to get there. We'll want to find someplace to sleep for the night pretty soon. There's a couple of likely spots that we'll come across in the next couple of hours, so just let me know when you get tired.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; font-style: normal;"> “Sounds like a good plan, Dennis.” With that, Norman settled back to enjoy the scenery and to daydream about ogres, gems, and glory. Soon afterward, the steady beat of the dragon's powerful wings and the soothing rush of the wind past his ears lulled the youth into a light doze. The rope harness kept him from falling off, and as soon as Dennis realized that Norman was drowsing, he began searching for one of his favorite resting places. Soon enough, he found it—a clearing nestled between a stream and a small cluster of trees, with some brush creating a natural windbreak on one side. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Upon landing, Dennis reached around to tap Norman with his nose. “Hey, kid, we're here. You might want to think about hopping down from there and getting your stuff set up.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bemusedly, Norman blinked and looked around at the clearing. It took him a moment to realize what was going on, but then he recalled that Dennis had mentioned finding a place to sleep for the night. He extricated himself from the harness and then pulled down his saddlebags, bedroll, and cloak.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Would you like me to take that harness off, Dennis?” he asked considerately.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis stretched his limbs and his wings, and shook himself all over, before answering. “Nah,” he said, “it's not in the way, and not likely to snag on anything. Might as well leave it on so you don't have to rig it back up tomorrow.” He paused a moment, then said, “I don't know about you, but I'm hungry! What say I go grab some dinner while you do whatever it is that you do? What're you hungry for?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, I've got some dried meat, but some fresh venison sounds wonderful! Are there deer around here?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Deer, moose, wild pigs, you name it. Venison it is, though! I'll be back before you know it.” And with that, Dennis launched himself into the air, circled once, and went looking for supper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Norman busied himself with setting up the night's camp. He gathered wood and soon had a fire crackling merrily away, with a pot of water heating for tea. He spread his bedroll nearby, with his cloak on top for extra warmth. He sliced some bread and cheese and got out a couple of apples. Then he sat back to wait for Dennis to get back with their main course.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile, Dennis was hovering lazily high above a small herd of deer, waiting until a likely one wandered far enough away to be an easy grab. He thought about the events of the day with a smile. He'd enjoyed flying with the young human and listening to him playing the flute. The kid didn't talk too much, and even though he was awfully enthusiastic about wanting to prove himself by fighting something, Dennis had hope that he'd be able to convince Norman that some other way could be just as good. His musings were interrupted by movement below. A large doe had wandered away from the edges of the herd. Dennis furled his wings slightly and dove downward. When he got close enough, he stretched out his forelegs, grabbed the doe, flared his wings again, and lifted himself back into the sky faster than thought. The impact of his grab had neatly dispatched the deer, and he carried her still form back to the clearing where he'd left Norman.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Norman was delighted to see the deer that Dennis had brought back, and quickly cut of a good-sized chunk to roast over the fire. While it cooked, the dragon ate his meal on the other side of the clearing out of consideration for the human. After all, dragons are notoriously messy eaters, by human standards, at least. When he was done, Dennis came back to the fire, settled into a comfortable hollow in the ground, and said, “So, tell me about yourself, kid.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, there's not really very much to say,” Norman replied. He settled himself on his bedroll with his dinner and took a few bites before answering. “I grew up on a small farm with my mother and father. Didn't have any brothers or sisters, though. My father taught me to hunt and fish, but he knew I always wanted to be a knight. So when I was old enough to be apprenticed as a page, he sent me off to the castle. I spent a few years as a page, and then a few more as a squire, and I was finally knighted a couple of weeks ago. Father would have been really proud of me, but he got sick three years ago, and died a year later. Mother's had a hard time keeping up with the farm, but she's been able to rent out part of the land, which keeps our bills paid and food on the table. I'm glad I'm a knight now, because I'll be able to send her money, and take care of her like she deserves. She's a fantastic cook and baker, and she made this cloak I'm sitting on. Remember the flute I was playing earlier? My father carved that for my mother, and she used to play it for me all the time when I was little.” He sighed softly. “I really miss them. I'm glad I've met you, though. It's harder to be lonely when you've got someone to talk to,” he said with a smile at the dragon. “Now it's your turn. Tell me about yourself.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis tilted his head up toward the sky, closed his eyes for a moment, and hummed softly to himself. “Well,” he said, “there's not a lot to say about myself, either. I hatched with my brothers and sisters about two hundred years ago. We were a fairly small clutch, only a dozen of us. We were raised by both of our parents until we were big enough to hunt for ourselves, and then my father mostly stayed away. He'd show up a few times a year, though, to check and see how we were all doing, and as we got older, he'd take a few of us at a time on hunting trips. We couldn't all go, of course—we'd scare all of the game away! By the time I was fifty, we were all pretty much living on our own, and shortly after that, Mother and Father had another clutch of dragons to raise. Since then, my clutch-mates and I have pretty much gone our separate ways, but we check in with each other and with our parents. We know our younger siblings, but we're not as close to them as we are to each other. As for myself, I love to explore, and I love to watch you humans. You're the first one I've traveled with, though.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Norman said, “You said you've been on your own since you were fifty! How old are you, anyway?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“I'm still pretty young, just shy of my two hundredth birthday. Why? How old are you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Two hundred is <i>young</i>?” Norman said incredulously, shaking his head. “I'm only eighteen.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Trust me, I'm really not much older than you, in human terms. Don't worry, we'll get along just fine,” Dennis said with a smile.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After finishing his dinner, Norman once again got out his flute and played for a bit, while Dennis hummed along with the music. Then, with a small sigh, the youth put his things away and curled up in his blankets for the night. The soft sounds of assorted insects and small animals rustling through the brush, along with the slightly louder sound of Dennis's breathing, soon lulled Norman into a deep sleep, in which he dreamed of flying and of returning triumphantly home with a fabled treasure.</span></div>
Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-57599919373305458322011-11-10T12:23:00.000-08:002012-12-13T20:04:57.366-08:00Third Chapter<span style="font-size: large;">This was originally Chapter 4. Again, there might be some minor changes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chapter Three</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When Norman reached town, he went in search of a stable where he could sell his horse. Upon finding one, close to the eastern edge of town, the stableman was slightly surprised that Norman wanted to sell his horse when he was obviously not done with his journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Are you sure you want to sell this horse? I can see that you're not done traveling. How are you going to get around?" he asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman replied, "Don't worry about me. I'm meeting up with a friend outside of town, and he's taking care of our transportation."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Well, this is certainly a fine-looking specimen. I'll give you...five gold pieces for him."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Only five? I was thinking more along the lines of ten gold pieces."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Seven, and that's my final offer," said the stableman.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Deal," said Norman, and, after he gathered his saddlebags from his horse, he handed over the reins. “So long, Tom,” he said. “You've been a faithful steed, and I'll never forget you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now that he was slightly richer, Norman thought it might be a good idea to pick up some more food and other supplies to make the trip more pleasant. His first stop was a bakery, where he picked up a loaf of bread and some hard rolls. Then he went to a dairy and got some cheese, and from there he went to a butcher's shop for some dried meat.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now that he had plenty of food, he decided to visit a tailor to see if he could get a small tear in a shirt mended. While he was there, he spied a pair of leather gloves in a display. Norman thought those would come in very handy while riding on a dragon, since the air was sure to be colder at higher altitudes. His shirt was soon mended, and he left with it and the new gloves.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thus provisioned, Norman headed for the east road out of the town with his saddlebags slung over his shoulder. It wasn't long before he spied a pile of boulders that looked just slightly out of place. Remembering his last encounter, Norman opted not to climb on the boulders, and to call out instead, "Dennis, is that you?" Whereupon the pile of boulders shook itself and changed colors from gray and brown to green and purple; and Norman found himself looking into the face of his new friend. Dennis cocked an eyebrow (or what passed for an eyebrow) at Norman, and said, "Of course it's me. Know any other dragons who might be hiding on this road?" Then he chuckled and said, "I'm only joking. Are you all set for an adventure?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"I sure am! I got some new food, new gloves, and I'm ready! I, uh, didn't get any food for you, though," Norman said, feeling slightly abashed. After all, he thought, he really should have shown some consideration for his traveling companion...but then again, what could he have bought for Dennis to eat that would have fit into his saddlebags? Looking at Dennis, though, he noticed that the dragon was chuckling at him, and he remembered what Dennis had said about what dragons really preferred to eat. Norman realized that Dennis would be perfectly capable of providing for himself as they traveled.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With Dennis's help, Norman used some rope he had in his saddlebags to rig a harness to keep himself from falling off the dragon's back. Then, with Dennis providing a boost, the young knight climbed aboard and strapped himself in place. Dennis stretched his neck, accustoming himself to Norman's weight, and launched himself into the sky, heading east.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After the initial jolt, Norman was exhilarated. He looked around with awe. He noted the ground slipping by in patches of green and brown, and the clouds that seemed to be racing with him and the dragon. "This is amazing!" he thought. "Who's ever going to believe that <i>I</i> rode on a dragon? If only my mother could see me now..."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thinking of his mother made him melancholy, so Norman reached into his saddlebag for his flute and began to play a song that Maria had sung to him as a small child. All of a sudden, he noticed that Dennis was sort of sliding side to side in his flight. Alarmed, he stopped playing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Oh, don't stop, that's wonderful!" Dennis exclaimed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"B-b-but what were you doing? I thought something was wrong," Norman said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis replied, "Nothing was wrong, I was just moving to the music--dancing, if you will."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The idea of the dragon dancing through the air to his flute made Norman smile, so he brought the instrument back to his lips and began to play again. Dennis again started dancing to the music, and in this way the two new friends began their journey eastward. </span></div>
Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-19943209595390013902011-11-09T16:40:00.000-08:002012-12-13T20:06:02.123-08:00Second Chapter<span style="font-size: large;">This is actually a combination of Chapters 2 and 3, with just a few minor changes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Chapter Two</b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was raining. Again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman was sitting under an overhanging rock, which was large enough to shelter him, his horse, and the fire he'd built, eating a rabbit he'd snared earlier that day. He looked out at the rain and grimaced. This was the third day in a row of miserable rainstorms, broken only by brief respites in which Norman could go out and try to gather dry firewood and fresh meat to round out what was left of the food he'd brought with him from home. And he'd only been traveling for a week! At this rate, Norman would never find another town, much less a dragon to slay!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With a heavy sigh, Norman stretched out in his bedroll and went to sleep.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The next day dawned amazingly, startlingly, bright and clear. Norman whistled as he set about cleaning up his temporary camp and preparing his horse for travel. When he had everything packed and the horse saddled, he swung up on its back and headed toward the road. Suddenly the sky grew dim for a moment, as if a cloud had scudded in front of the sun just briefly, but when he looked up, Norman could see not a single cloud up above him, but there was a dark shape like a very large bird up ahead, heading in the same direction that he was. Could it be a dragon?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman was excited, though a part of him wondered what he would really do if he confronted a dragon. Would he be able to slay the beast? Or would he end up as dinner, instead? Norman could see that the flying whatever-it-was was circling lower a few miles up the road, evidently preparing to land. He spurred his horse to go a little faster, hoping he would reach the spot before the creature decided to take off again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As he drew nearer to the creature's apparent landing place, Norman realized that he really should have some sort of plan. Try as he might, though, all he could come up with was to try to sneak in very quietly, hoping the beast wouldn't hear, see, or smell him. Then, once he'd seen what he was dealing with, he could challenge it to a duel, or something. He really wanted to fight the creature fairly. After all, if he didn't, how would he know whether or not this dragon (if, indeed, that's what he was going to be facing) was really the fiercest dragon in the kingdom? Somehow, this logic all made perfect sense to Norman.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After a while, Norman judged he was close enough to where the creature had probably landed, and that it was time to continue on foot. He left his horse hobbled in a small grassy meadow, and continued along a game trail into the shadowy forest. He tried to look for signs of a rather large creature's passage, but couldn't find anything. He was just about to give up and return to his horse, when he noticed a very large, very odd, rock formation. Norman knew it was odd, he just couldn't figure out exactly why it was odd. He walked around it, studying it closely. The color was right, it matched other rocks in the area. The lichens and moss growing on it seemed normal, as well. What in the world made this pile of rocks different?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman was puzzled. He decided to climb up on the rocks to get a better look at them. Starting at a point where the rocks came out in a long, tapered point, Norman climbed up what was almost a small hill. When he reached the top, he looked closely at the rocks he was standing on, but still couldn't see anything obviously out of place about them. He'd been using a short, broken branch as a sort of walking stick in order to help him keep his balance while climbing. Now he started tapping on the rocks, listening for any clues that might tell him why these rocks seemed so out of place. No results, except that the rocks almost seemed to be moving. But that couldn't be, could it?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Giving up for the moment, Norman found a small crack in the stone nearest him, and jabbed his stick down into it so he could sit down. This time there was no doubt about it--the rocks moved! With a violent shudder, the rocks shifted under Norman until he fell to the ground, his stick landing beside him. He watched in amazement as the rock pile changed color from mottled grays to emerald green and purple; and with the color change, he could see that what he had thought was a pile of rocks, was, in reality, a dragon. Which he had just woken up by jabbing a stick into it. Norman had an idea that he was in very big trouble.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With a bellow, the dragon shook itself all over, then opened its eyes and glared at Norman. It then opened its mouth and, to Norman's astonishment, spoke.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Are you kidding me?! Do you normally go around climbing on dragons and stabbing them while they're sleeping?" the dragon demanded. "Well?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman, who had been expecting to be charred to cinders, was a little taken aback by the dragon's sarcasm. Well, truthfully, he was mostly taken aback by having the dragon speak to him at all. He stammered, "Y-y-you can s-speak!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Of course I can speak! Better than you can, apparently!" the dragon retorted. He cocked his head and said, "I asked you a question, you know. It would be polite of you to answer."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman replied, "No, I don't usually climb on dragons or stab them. I've never even seen a dragon before now. I do apologize, though. I saw you flying and was looking for you so I could challenge you to a fair fight. I've been recently knighted, and my quest is to slay the fiercest dragon in the kingdom. So, now that I've found you, I challenge you! Let us find a clear field and do battle!" He somehow thought he might have sounded a bit ridiculous, especially when he noticed the dragon was laughing at him, shaking with silent chuckles and blowing little puffs of smoke out of its nostrils.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When the dragon could control itself, it said, "I haven't laughed so hard in months! What makes you think that you can slay me, or any dragon, for that matter? Look at you. You're puny!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman retorted, "That's what knights do--they slay dragons! And I may be puny compared to you, but really, I'm normal-sized for a human!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Listen, human, how many knights do you know who've actually slain a dragon?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Well, none, now that I think about it. But that's what the stories all say."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Listen, kid, you just can't believe everything the bards tell you. What's your name, anyhow?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"I'm Norman," Norman replied. "What's your name?" He was still a bit unnerved that this creature was actually talking to him (albeit pretty sarcastically) instead of eating him, but thought that that wasn't such a bad thing anyhow.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"I'm Dennis," said the dragon. "Pleased to meet you. Let me tell you a bit about dragons. We really don't like to eat people. You're stringy, and you just aren't big enough to be more than an appetizer. We much prefer to eat things like cows, wild pigs, deer, you get the picture. We're good at hiding ourselves in plain sight, so most of the time, you humans don't even know we're around. And we tend to travel quite a bit, so that we don't wear out our welcome, so to speak, in any certain area. Myself, I was heading east to see what's been going on in that part of the world in the last twenty or so years since I was there last. What are your plans? Other than the whole dragon-slaying thing, that is?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Well," answered Norman, "I don't have a direction in mind. I just decided to go east because that's the way the road from home goes, and then I saw you flying, and now I've talked to you and I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't very well try to slay every dragon I come across, but even if I did slay you--which I'm not going to do!" he added hastily, "I couldn't go home and say that I'd killed the fiercest dragon in the kingdom, because how would I know?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Dennis was trying not to laugh at this young human. He could tell that Norman was truly concerned with proving himself worthy as a knight, but hadn't expected dragons to be intelligent beings, instead of unthinking beasts. He was fairly young himself, for a dragon--only about two hundred years old--and it sometimes got lonely traveling with no one to talk to. He said, "You know, you could come with me. We might run across other dragons, you never know. If nothing else, you would have adventures and see places that you'd never be able to get to on your own. What d'you say?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Norman thought about it. "What about my horse?" he asked. "He'd never be able to keep up with you, you know."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"That's true. Well, you could sell him in the next town, about five miles from here, and you could ride on my back, instead. There's nothing like flying to get you someplace quickly."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"All right," Norman said. "It's a deal. I'll sell my horse, and you and I will have adventures and travel the world!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Right then," said Dennis. "I'll meet you on the other side of town. You'll be able to find me--just look for the pile of boulders." With that, he flew off, heading eastward toward the town that Norman now knew lay just a few miles distant. Norman headed back to his horse, thinking about the amazing turn his life had taken in the last hour, and realizing that he now had a new quest--to explore every corner of the kingdom, as well as the habits of dragonkind in person. It was good to have a new friend and companion to share the journey.</span>Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-71701656428947131742011-11-08T09:22:00.000-08:002012-12-13T20:10:41.453-08:00The Complete 1st Adventure of Dennis and Norman!Okay, I'm going to do this a chapter at a time, since the entire thing was 25 pages when it was printed out, even though there are only 5 chapters. Chapter 1 is mostly the same as before, but it's now about twice as long. Enjoy!<br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Norman<span style="font-size: large;"> and Dennis: The Adventures Begin</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Chapter One</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Once upon a time in a land of myths and legends, a gentle, end-of-spring breeze wafted through the trees. To a young man named Norman, this was the most glorious day that would ever be, for he was about to become a knight. Him--a knight! Protector of the weak! Rescuer of distressed damsels! And, most importantly, Slayer of Dragons! Norman was so lost in his daydreaming that he barely remembered to move forward in line. Suddenly, he was kneeling before the king, who touched his great sword to Norman's shoulders, proclaiming him a knight, sworn to uphold the laws of the kingdom. Then the king spoke.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> "It is customary for the new knights to set themselves a task, or quest, to prove their worth," the king said. "What task have you set yourself?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Every eye was on Norman. Nervous and stammering, he blurted out, "I-I intend to slay the f-f-fiercest d-dragon in the kingdom, your majesty!"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> The king smiled good-naturedly at the young knight's brashness, and told Norman that he should probably get a good night's rest first. Norman agreed, and was then excused to attend the feast being held in honor of the young men being knighted.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> The next morning Norman was up early, packing his saddlebags for what he suspected would be a very long journey. As he placed his saddlebags on his horse's back, daydreaming about his future adventures, his mother, Maria, stepped into the stable. She was carrying a bundle in her arms and was slightly red-eyed, as if she'd been crying. Maria smiled at her son, though, handing him the bundle.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman took it from her. "What's this?" he asked, untying the strings holding it shut.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> "Oh, just some going away presents and some food--nothing much," Maria said.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman pulled out a beautifully crocheted scarf in his favorite forest green color and said, "Mother, it's beautiful! But it's just the beginning of summer. Why would I need a scarf?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> His mother answered, "Because you never know when you might need it. You never know for sure how long you'll be gone. And because I love you. But that's not all I packed, keep looking!"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Norman continued to unpack the bundle, pulling out a wonderfully worked tinderbox that had belonged to his father, who had died two years before. There were also several changes of clothes, all made by Maria (Norman protested that he had, in fact remembered to pack clothing, but his mother only smiled), some freshly baked bread, a large wedge of cheese, some dried meat, and half a dozen apples. At the very bottom of the bundle, Norman discovered a carved wooden flute, belonging to his mother, and a small money bag.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> "Mother, why are you sending your flute with me? You love to play it! And where did this money come from?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">Maria replied, "Yes, I do enjoy playing the flute, but so do you, and I wanted you to have something of mine to remind you of home. As for the money, I've been saving a little at a time since you started your training. It isn't much, I know, but you will need money occasionally."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> "Thank you, Mother. I'll think of you every time I play it. And I'll be careful with the money. I love you." With that, Norman hugged his mother and continued packing his saddlebags, filling them with the gifts she had brought him. When he finished, he realized that the bundle itself was a gift--it was a new woolen cloak. Tying the cloak with his bedroll behind the saddle, Norman belted on his sword and led the horse into the stable yard. He swung up on his horse's back and looked down at his mother, who was smiling up at him, though her eyes were suspiciously bright.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> "Don't cry, Mother. I'll be home before you know it," Norman told her. With that, he rode out through the gate and onto the road, heading east, toward the rising sun and adventure.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> The day was pleasantly warm as Norman rode along, humming to himself and wondering when, or even if, he would find a dragon. If not a dragon, then perhaps some other fierce creature, such as an ogre or gryphon would turn up. “Either of those would make fine trophies and prove that I can be a worthy knight quite nicely,” he mused aloud. “But I'd really rather fight a dragon. They're the fiercest creatures in the world, and no one would ever doubt me or tease me for wanting to be a knight again!”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> About noon, the youth decided it might be time to think about taking a break for lunch. He found a clearing in the woods and dismounted. After tethering his horse, Norman went to the edge of the woods and set a snare, hoping to catch a rabbit or perhaps a pheasant to cook up, which would go nicely with some of the fresh bread and cheese that his mother had sent. Once the snare was set, he went back to the clearing and started a small fire with his father's tinderbox. “Boy, I wish Father could have been alive to see me knighted,” Norman said to himself. “He'd have been so proud, even though he wouldn't have said it outright.” Norman really missed his father, who had taught the young man everything he knew about hunting, fishing, and just about everything else. While thinking about times he'd spent hunting with his father, Norman heard a rustling in the woods, followed by the sound of an animal being caught by his snare. Upon inspection, he discovered that a plump pheasant had been caught. Feeling quite pleased with himself for proving to be so self-sufficient, Norman cleaned and plucked the bird, and put it over the fire to cook. While waiting for his lunch, he pulled out his mother's flute and played a lilting air he'd heard many times at home. Even though playing the flute made him miss his mother, he was determined to make her proud, and to honor his father's memory, by becoming the best knight in the kingdom, and he felt he was well on his way.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Once he'd eaten, Norman wrapped up his leftovers in a napkin, packed them back in his saddlebag, and started riding eastward once more. He figured he had about five hours or so of daylight left, so he should be able to cover a fair bit of ground. He hoped that he would find a town with an inn where he could spend the night, or at the very least, a farmer willing to let him sleep in the barn. While he could sleep outside if he had to, Norman really didn't like doing so. It had been his experience that it inevitably rained on people who slept out in the open, which was not his idea of a wonderful adventure. The hours and miles passed by with no sign of a town or farm, however, and he resigned himself to the necessity of camping outdoors and the near-certainty of a drenching.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> He was in luck, though, and found a small cave which appeared to have been empty for quite some time, judging by the amount of leaves and debris strewn about the entrance, as well as the slightly musty odor about the place. A small stream flowed nearby, and there was plenty of room for his horse to be tethered and to graze. Norman talked to the horse as he unpacked his gear and set up camp. “It's not fancy, Tom, but it'll do for tonight. There's a dry place to sleep, plenty of water, sweet grass for you...it doesn't get much better than that.” As he spoke, Norman was unsaddling Tom, rubbing him down, and tethering him for the night. As soon as that was done, the horse wandered over to the stream, took a long drink, and began to graze. </span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"> Chuckling to himself, Norman carried his saddle into the cave and started a fire. He pulled out the leftovers from his lunch, and sat down to eat. Afterward, he got out his flute and played for a while, until he began to feel sleepy. He put the flute away carefully, lay down on his blanket, and wrapped up in his cloak. “Goodnight, Mother,” he thought. “I'll make you proud of me, just wait and see!” With that, <span lang="en-US">he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.</span></span></span></span></div>
Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-66592360532440172142008-09-02T18:14:00.000-07:002008-09-02T20:03:01.735-07:00Chapter FourWhen Norman reached town, he went in search of a stable where he could sell his horse. Upon finding one, close to the eastern edge of town, the stableman was slightly surprised that Norman wanted to sell his horse when he was obviously not done with his journey.<br /><br />"Are you sure you want to sell this horse? I can see that you're not done travelling. How are you going to get around?" he asked.<br /><br />Norman replied, "Don't worry about me. I'm meeting up with a friend outside of town, and he's taking care of our transportation."<br /><br />"Well, this is certainly a fine-looking specimen. I'll give you...five gold pieces for him."<br /><br />"Only five? I was thinking more along the lines of ten gold pieces."<br /><br />"Seven, and that's my final offer," said the stableman.<br /><br />"Deal," said Norman, and, after he gathered his saddlebags from his horse, he handed over the reins.<br /><br />Now that he was slightly richer, Norman thought it might be a good idea to pick up some more food and other supplies to make the trip more pleasant. His first stop was a bakery, where he picked up a loaf of bread and some hard rolls. Then he went to a dairy and got some cheese, and from there he went to a butcher's shop for some dried meat.<br /><br />Now that he had plenty of food, he decided to visit a tailor to see if he could get a small tear in a shirt mended. While he was there, he spied a pair of leather gloves in a display. Norman thought those would come in very handy while riding on a dragon, since the air was sure to be colder at higher altitudes. His shirt was soon mended, and he left with it and the new gloves.<br /><br />Thus provisioned, Norman headed for the east road out of the town with his saddlebags slung over his shoulder. It wasn't long before he spied a pile of boulders that looked just slightly out of place. Remembering his last encounter, Norman opted not to climb on the boulders, and to call out instead, "Dennis, is that you?" Whereupon the pile of boulders shook itself and changed colors from gray and brown to green and purple; and Norman found himself looking into the face of his new friend. Dennis cocked an eyebrow (or what passed for an eyebrow) at Norman, and said "Of course it's me. Know any other dragons who might be hiding on this road?" Then he chuckled and said "I'm only joking. Are you all set for an adventure?"<br /><br />"I sure am! I got some new food, new gloves, and I'm ready! I, uh, didn't get any food for you, though," Norman said, feeling slightly abashed. After all, he thought, he really should have shown some consideration for his traveling companion...but then again, what could he have bought for Dennis to eat that would have fit into his saddlebags? Looking at Dennis, though, he noticed that the dragon was chuckling at him, and he remembered what Dennis had said about what dragons really preferred to eat. Norman realized that Dennis would be perfectly capable of providing for himself as they traveled.<br /><br />With Dennis's help, Norman used some rope he had in his saddlebags to rig a harness to keep himself from falling off the dragon's back. Then, with Dennis providing a boost, the young knight climbed aboard and strapped himself in place. Dennis stretched his neck, accustoming himself to Norman's weight, and launched himself into the sky, heading east.<br /><br />After the initial jolt, Norman was exhilirated. He looked around with awe. He noted the ground slipping by in patches of green and brown, and the clouds that seemed to be racing with him and the dragon. "This is amazing!" he thought. "Who's ever going to believe that <em>I</em> rode on a dragon? If only my mother could see me now..."<br /><br />Thinking of his mother made him melancholy, so Norman reached into his saddlebag for his flute and began to play a song that Maria had sung to him as a small child. All of a sudden, he noticed that Dennis was sort of sliding side to side in his flight. Alarmed, he stopped playing.<br /><br />"Oh, don't stop, that's wonderful!" Dennis exclaimed.<br /><br />"B-b-but what were you doing? I thought something was wrong," Norman said.<br /><br />Dennis replied, "Nothing was wrong, I was just moving to the music--dancing, if you will."<br /><br />The idea of the dragon dancing through the air to his flute made Norman smile, so he brought the instrument back to his lips and began to play again. Dennis again started dancing to the music, and in this way the two new friends began their journey eastward.<br /><br />To be continued...Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-78181899514836489262008-05-10T20:30:00.001-07:002008-09-02T18:11:04.191-07:00Chapter ThreeWith a bellow, the dragon shook itself all over, then opened its eyes and glared at Norman. It then opened its mouth and, to Norman's astonishment, spoke.<br /><br />"Are you <em>kidding</em> me?! Do you <em>normally</em> go around climbing on dragons and stabbing them while they're sleeping?" the dragon demanded. "Well?"<br /><br />Norman, who had been expecting to be charred to cinders, was a little taken aback by the dragon's sarcasm. Well, truthfully, he was mostly taken aback by having the dragon speak to him at all. He stammered, "Y-y-you can s-speak!"<br /><br />"Of course I can speak! Better than you can, apparently!" the dragon retorted. He cocked his head and said, "I asked you a question, you know. It would be polite of you to answer."<br /><br />Norman replied, "No, I don't usually climb on dragons <em>or</em> stab them. I've never even seen a dragon before now. I <em>do </em>apologize, though. I saw you flying and was looking for you so I could challenge you to a fair fight. I've been recently knighted, and my quest is to slay the fiercest dragon in the kingdom. So, now that I've found you, I challenge you! Let us find a clear field and do battle!" He somehow thought he might have sounded a bit ridiculous, especially when he noticed the dragon was laughing at him, shaking with silent chuckles and blowing little puffs of smoke out of its nostrils.<br /><br />When the dragon could control itself, it said, "I haven't laughed so hard in months! What makes you think that <em>you</em> can slay <em>me</em>, or any dragon, for that matter? Look at you. You're puny!"<br /><br />Norman retorted, "That's what knights do--they slay dragons! And I may be puny compared to you, but really, I'm normal-sized for a human!"<br /><br />"Listen, human, how many knights do you know who've actually slain a dragon?"<br /><br />"Well, none, now that I think about it. But that's what the stories all say."<br /><br />"Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Listen, kid, you just can't believe everything the bards tell you. What's your name, anyhow?<br /><br />"I'm Norman," Norman replied. "What's your name?" He was still a bit unnerved that this creature was actually talking to him (albeit pretty sarcastically) instead of eating him, but thought that that wasn't such a bad thing anyhow.<br /><br />"I'm Dennis," said the dragon. "Pleased to meet you. Let me tell you a bit about dragons. We really don't like to eat people. You're stringy, and you just aren't big enough to be more than an appetizer. We much prefer to eat things like cows, wild pigs, deer, you get the picture. We're good at hiding ourselves in plain sight, so most of the time, you humans don't even know we're around. And we tend to travel quite a bit, so that we don't wear out our welcome, so to speak, in any certain area. Myself, I was heading east to see what's been going on in that part of the world in the last twenty or so years since I was there last. What are your plans? Other than the whole dragon-slaying thing, that is?"<br /><br />"Well," answered Norman, "I don't have a direction in mind. I just decided to go east because that's the way the road from home goes, and then I saw you flying, and now I've talked to you and I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't very well try to slay <em>every</em> dragon I come across, but even if I <em>did</em> slay you--which I'm not going to do!" he added hastily, "I couldn't go home and say that I'd killed the fiercest dragon in the kingdom, because how would I know?"<br /><br />Dennis was trying not to laugh at this young human. He could tell that Norman was truly concerned with proving himself worthy as a knight, but hadn't expected dragons to be intelligent beings, instead of unthinking beasts. He was fairly young himself, for a dragon--only about two hundred years old--and it sometimes got lonely traveling with no one to talk to. He said, "You know, you could come with me. We might run across other dragons, you never know. If nothing else, you would have adventures and see places that you'd never be able to get to on your own. What d'you say?"<br /><br />Norman thought about it. "What about my horse?" he asked. "He'd never be able to keep up with you, you know."<br /><br />"That's true. Well, you could sell him in the next town, and you could ride on my back, instead. There's nothing like flying to get you someplace quickly."<br /><br />"All right," Norman said. "It's a deal. I'll sell my horse, and you and I will have adventures and travel the world!"<br /><br />"Right then," said Dennis. "I'll meet you on the other side of town. You'll be able to find me--just look for the pile of boulders." With that, he flew off, heading eastward toward the town that Norman now knew lay just a few miles distant. Norman headed back to his horse, thinking about the amazing turn his life had taken in the last hour, and realizing that he now had a new quest--to explore every corner of the kingdom, as well as the habits of dragonkind in person. It was good to have a new friend and companion to share the journey.<br /><br />To be continued.....Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-53650312603475445382008-04-29T23:23:00.000-07:002008-05-10T20:28:43.953-07:00Chapter twoIt was raining. Again.<br /><br />Norman was sitting under an overhanging rock, which was large enough to shelter him, his horse, and the fire he'd built, eating a rabbit he'd snared earlier that day. He looked out at the rain and grimaced. This was the third day in a row of miserable rainstorms, broken only by brief respites in which Norman could go out and try to gather dry firewood and fresh meat to round out what was left of the food he'd brought with him from home. And he'd only been traveling for a week! At this rate, Norman would never find another town, much less a dragon to slay!<br /><br />With a heavy sigh, Norman stretched out in his bedroll and went to sleep.<br /><br />The next day dawned amazingly, startlingly, bright and clear. Norman whistled as he set about cleaning up his temporary camp and preparing his horse for travel. When he had everything packed and the horse saddled, he swung up on its back and headed toward the road. Suddenly the sky grew dim for a moment, as if a cloud had scudded in front of the sun just briefly, but when he looked up, Norman could see not a single cloud up above him, but there <em>was</em> a dark shape like a very large bird up ahead, heading in the same direction that he was. Could it be a dragon?<br /><br />Norman was excited, though a part of him wondered what he would <em>really</em> do if he confronted a dragon. Would he be able to slay the beast? Or would he end up as dinner, instead? Norman could see that the flying whatever-it-was was circling lower a few miles up the road, evidently preparing to land. He spurred his horse to go a little faster, hoping he would reach the spot before the creature decided to take off again.<br /><br />As he drew nearer to the creature's apparent landing place, Norman realized that he really should have some sort of plan. Try as he might, though, all he could come up with was to try to sneak in very quietly, hoping the beast wouldn't hear, see, or smell him. Then, once he'd seen what he was dealing with, he could challenge it to a duel, or something. He really wanted to fight the creature fairly. After all, if he didn't, how would he know whether or not this dragon (if, indeed, that's what he was going to be facing) was really the fiercest dragon in the kingdom? Somehow, this logic all made perfect sense to Norman.<br /><br />After a while, Norman judged he was close enough to where the creature had probably landed, and that it was time to continue on foot. He left his horse hobbled in a small grassy meadow, and continued along a game trail into the shadowy forest. He tried to look for signs of a rather large creature's passage, but couldn't find anything. He was just about to give up and return to his horse, when he noticed a very large, very odd, rock formation. Norman knew it was odd, he just couldn't figure out exactly <em>why</em> it was odd. He walked around it, studying it closely. The color was right, it matched other rocks in the area. The lichens and moss growing on it seemed normal, as well. What in the world made this pile of rocks different?<br /><br />Norman was puzzled. He decided to climb up on the rocks to get a better look at them. Starting at a point where the rocks came out in a long, tapered point, Norman climbed up what was almost a small hill. When he reached the top, he looked closely at the rocks he was standing on, but still couldn't see anything obviously out of place about them. He'd been using a short, broken branch as a sort of walking stick in order to help him keep his balance while climbing. Now he started tapping on the rocks, listening for any clues that might tell him why these rocks seemed so out of place. No results, except that the rocks almost seemed to be moving. But that couldn't be, could it?<br /><br />Giving up for the moment, Norman found a small crack in the stone nearest him, and jabbed his stick down into it so he could sit down. This time there was no doubt about it--the rocks moved! With a violent shudder, the rocks shifted under Norman until he fell to the ground, his stick landing beside him. He watched in amazement as the rock pile changed color from mottled grays to emerald green and purple; and with the color change, he could see that what he had thought was a pile of rocks, was, in reality, a dragon. Which he had just woken up by jabbing a stick into it. Norman had an idea that he was in very big trouble.<br /><br />To be continued....Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-68847605592356244962008-04-22T21:48:00.000-07:002008-04-23T18:50:35.047-07:00Norman and Dennis: The Adventures Begin<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Chapter One</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span> Once upon a time in the land of fairy tales, a gentle, end-of-spring breeze wafted through the trees. To a young man named Norman, this was the most glorious day that would ever be, for he was about to become a knight. Him--a knight! Protector of the weak! Rescuer of distressed damsels! And, most importantly, Slayer of Dragons! Norman was so lost in his daydreaming that he barely remembered to move forward in line. Suddenly, he was kneeling before the king, who touched his great sword to Norman's shoulders, proclaiming him a knight, sworn to uphold the laws of the kingdom. Then the king spoke.<br /><br /><div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>"It is customary for the new knights to set themselves a task, or quest, to prove their worth," the king said. "What task have you set yourself?"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>Every eye was on Norman. Nervous and stammering, he blurted out, "I-I intend to slay the f-f-fiercest d-dragon in the kingdom, your majesty!"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>The king smiled good-naturedly at the young knight's brashness, and told Norman that he should probably get a good night's rest first. Norman agreed, and was then excused to attend the feast being held in honor of the young men being knighted.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>The next morning Norman was up early, packing his saddlebags for what he suspected would be a very long journey. As he placed his saddlebags on his horse's back, daydreaming about his future adventures, his mother, Maria, stepped into the stable. She was carrying a bundle in her arms and was slightly red-eyed, as if she'd been crying. Maria smiled at her son, though, handing him the bundle.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>Norman took it from her. "What's this?" he asked, untying the strings holding it shut.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>"Oh, just some going away presents and some food--nothing much," Maria said.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>Norman pulled out a beautifully crocheted scarf in his favorite forest green color and said, "Mother, it's beautiful! But it's just the beginning of summer. Why would I need a scarf?"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>His mother answered, "Because you never know when you might need it. You never know for sure how long you'll be gone. And because I love you. But that's not all I packed, keep looking!"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>Norman continued to unpack the bundle, pulling out a wonderfully worked tinderbox that had belonged to his father, who had died two years before. There were also several changes of clothes, all made by Maria (Norman protested that he had, in fact remembered to pack clothing, but his mother only smiled), some freshly baked bread, a large wedge of cheese, some dried meat, and half a dozen apples. At the very bottom of the bundle, Norman discovered a carved wooden flute, belonging to his mother, and a small money bag.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>"Mother, why are you sending your flute with me? You love to play it! And where did this money come from?"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>Maria replied, "Yes, I do enjoy playing the flute, but so do you, and I wanted you to have something of mine to remind you of home. As for the money, I've been saving a little at a time since you started your training. It isn't much, I know, but you will need money occasionally."<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>"Thank you, Mother. I'll think of you every time I play it. And I'll be careful with the money. I love you."<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>With that, Norman hugged his mother and continued packing his saddlebags, filling them with the gifts she had brought him. When he finished, he realized that the bundle itself was a gift--it was a new woolen cloak. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span> Tying the cloak with his bedroll behind the saddle, Norman belted on his sword and led the horse into the stableyard. He swung up on his horse's back and looked down at his mother, who was smiling up at him, though her eyes were suspiciously bright.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span>"Don't cry, Mother. I'll be home before you know it," Norman told her. With that, he rode out through the gate and onto the road, heading east, toward the rising sun and adventure.<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="WHITE-SPACE: pre"></span></div></div>Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807381723372627193.post-28651725496484672192008-04-20T10:16:00.000-07:002008-04-20T10:22:05.525-07:00Blog number three...This is getting silly! But this will be the last one, I'm sure! A few years ago, I came up with the idea of writing a story about a young knight and a dragon who meet up, become friends, and have marvelous adventures. I even started writing it, but never finished it. I dug it out recently, and thought it would be great if I could continue it. SO, that's what I'm going to attempt to do here.<br />Also, my dear husband, Dave, had made up some stories about a "Carrot Queen" for the older kids when they were little. I'm going to try to convince him to share those stories with you, as well.<br />I will go for now, off to do some creative-type things, but I will be back with the first installment of my story later! You'll just have to be patient until then!Shawnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17953847416479640315noreply@blogger.com0