- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- High fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by modern fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
The two men, elf and human, raced down the street together, hurtling over the last remains of fallen debris as their retreat was closed off behind them by the burning fire. From here it was impossible to see what was going on around the city walls, but it was easy enough to guess. The arrows kept falling, streaks of bright green light dropping from the sky with the rain, bright enough for even him to catch glimpses.
Cirdan ran, partially deaf from the screams of people, the crackling of the fire, all of it washed over and muffled by the rain. He relied almost entirely upon the feel of Abel beside him, the young man unknowingly guiding him down the streets. He was completely lost, and had no way to rectify this without stopping to readjust. And this was not the moment to be standing still.
They wound up at the church quite by accident, guided by the tides of people who sought sanctuary in the only building untouched by the fire. Inside it was hot and crowded, all sorts of people pressed into corners, some of them calling out the names of family or friends. So many lives had been lost this evening. Cirdan longed to wander around the room, to share in the grief of the people and do what he could to keep them calm and safe, but instead he slumped against the wall, burrowing his head in his hands. He massaged the tips of his ears lightly with thumb and forefinger, waiting for the ringing to stop.
"Are you alright?" he asked Abel, breathless and concerned.
Cirdan ran, partially deaf from the screams of people, the crackling of the fire, all of it washed over and muffled by the rain. He relied almost entirely upon the feel of Abel beside him, the young man unknowingly guiding him down the streets. He was completely lost, and had no way to rectify this without stopping to readjust. And this was not the moment to be standing still.
They wound up at the church quite by accident, guided by the tides of people who sought sanctuary in the only building untouched by the fire. Inside it was hot and crowded, all sorts of people pressed into corners, some of them calling out the names of family or friends. So many lives had been lost this evening. Cirdan longed to wander around the room, to share in the grief of the people and do what he could to keep them calm and safe, but instead he slumped against the wall, burrowing his head in his hands. He massaged the tips of his ears lightly with thumb and forefinger, waiting for the ringing to stop.
"Are you alright?" he asked Abel, breathless and concerned.