Peer Edit my shit
Well this is probably going to kill your friends page but i seemed to have forgotten how to make the little link thing, ok so this is a segment from my open genre thing, if your interested in takeing up this daunting task give it a read and give me some feed back. Prego!
As Geryon limped off, back hunched and head hung low, the pains of old wounds began to awaken and for the second time he contemplated it, this time he felt certain it would end.
The beast tramped off to his living quarters, a towering citadel known to the world as The Spire of The Rose, an eternal tribute to The Four Guiding Winds, North, South, East, and West, granting avian’s sight of Demitriclus’s ill begotten nation. In the age of kings the fires of the spire would guide all weary lost souls back home, but in the years since the great deception the light has died out, the father was slain and the four sons were lost.
From the steps of Geryon’s parapet one can truly grasp the beauty of god’s creation, the lonely grey mountains of the frozen north to the surrounding forest of Medina and then southwards to the immeasurable reaches of the wind swept ocean, dwarfed only by the silent great azure. The journey to the top of the spire on a normal day would consume no more then one half hour but tonight it was as if the winding passage would ascend to a height no earthly being could fly.
Passing old treasures of conquered lands adorning the cold stonewalls of his room, no more inviting then a cage; he arrived upon the mat of straw he called a bed. “Its only right” the brute thought, motioning for the long blade he kept under a lone woolen pillow “pain is the only seed I have sown upon hearts.” The beast stole away one last sorrowful gaze towards the lonely mountain of his fathers, one final lament to the welcoming blade in his callused hands.
In a warriors stance both man and beast raised blade over head, for a split second the absolute uncertainty of it all was breathtaking. With a force that could topple mountains the beast fell the blade and collided with the ground yet only tears bled the cold damned floor.
Somewhere five children contemplated the lonesome moon and cried for answers long seeking.
Deep within the forest, miles from Medina’s somber fortress now cloaked in the dark of night, Daniel finds himself in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, fighting a losing battle against the stifling grasp of slumber
As Geryon limped off, back hunched and head hung low, the pains of old wounds began to awaken and for the second time he contemplated it, this time he felt certain it would end.
The beast tramped off to his living quarters, a towering citadel known to the world as The Spire of The Rose, an eternal tribute to The Four Guiding Winds, North, South, East, and West, granting avian’s sight of Demitriclus’s ill begotten nation. In the age of kings the fires of the spire would guide all weary lost souls back home, but in the years since the great deception the light has died out, the father was slain and the four sons were lost.
From the steps of Geryon’s parapet one can truly grasp the beauty of god’s creation, the lonely grey mountains of the frozen north to the surrounding forest of Medina and then southwards to the immeasurable reaches of the wind swept ocean, dwarfed only by the silent great azure. The journey to the top of the spire on a normal day would consume no more then one half hour but tonight it was as if the winding passage would ascend to a height no earthly being could fly.
Passing old treasures of conquered lands adorning the cold stonewalls of his room, no more inviting then a cage; he arrived upon the mat of straw he called a bed. “Its only right” the brute thought, motioning for the long blade he kept under a lone woolen pillow “pain is the only seed I have sown upon hearts.” The beast stole away one last sorrowful gaze towards the lonely mountain of his fathers, one final lament to the welcoming blade in his callused hands.
In a warriors stance both man and beast raised blade over head, for a split second the absolute uncertainty of it all was breathtaking. With a force that could topple mountains the beast fell the blade and collided with the ground yet only tears bled the cold damned floor.
Somewhere five children contemplated the lonesome moon and cried for answers long seeking.
Deep within the forest, miles from Medina’s somber fortress now cloaked in the dark of night, Daniel finds himself in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, fighting a losing battle against the stifling grasp of slumber