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Post by Desi Baggins on Sept 25, 2009 7:28:02 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan
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Post by Andorinha on Sept 25, 2009 11:04:49 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that
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Post by Stormrider on Sept 25, 2009 21:08:20 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured
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Post by Desi Baggins on Sept 26, 2009 6:43:13 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting
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Post by Andorinha on Sept 27, 2009 14:33:22 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers
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Post by Stormrider on Sept 27, 2009 15:30:12 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon
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Post by Andorinha on Sept 29, 2009 8:08:39 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the
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Post by Stormrider on Sept 29, 2009 16:58:07 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain.
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Post by Desi Baggins on Sept 30, 2009 7:40:40 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly
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Post by Andorinha on Sept 30, 2009 10:36:17 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan
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Post by Stormrider on Oct 4, 2009 8:17:29 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan waited
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Post by Andorinha on Oct 4, 2009 9:39:06 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan waited while
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Post by Stormrider on Oct 5, 2009 6:07:47 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan waited while Carlin
* * * Just a note (we've been at it for over two years!) One word story « Thread Started on Sept 7, 2007, 4:30pm »
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Post by Desi Baggins on Oct 5, 2009 6:46:43 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan waited while Carlin continued
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Post by Andorinha on Oct 6, 2009 3:55:14 GMT -6
Once long before tales were considered, dragons danced among the mountains. Gloriously soaring they colored the skies outshining the midnight stars. Watching for knights from the depths of their caverns -- wherein hoards of wild spiders spun huge webs, ready to defend the treasures -- they waited.
Sir Carlin galloped toward the castle of Bideliaglen where King Brogan had summoned hundreds of "draconicides" to prepare assaults against the mountain-holds guarded by the voracious dragons. Carlin excelled in stalking reptilians, especially those with vexatious personalities. He had obtained a magical weapon that targeted foes' weak spots. It sent a beam of stardust that confused foes' senses, allowing Carlin to distract them so that he could tickle their fancy. They anticipated resistance, but magic made considerable trouble for the dastardly dragons.
Upon entering the gates of Bideliaglen, Sir Carlin smirked, for knights often bragged that they were unsurpassed in skill for slaying dragons and making armor impenetrable. Surprisingly, unbelievably he drew upon intuition, but pride interfered with judgment and Carlin frequently got misleading urges.
Carlin was observing a rival knight riding handless through the marketplace. Directing himself by leg pressure, he turned toward the Castle of Bideliaglen and loped gracefully across the bridge. He smiled as he passed Carlin, knowing that he will arrive momentarily before the drawbridge, where the guard stands, ready to raise the trumpet call.
At once, knights saluted when King Brogan strode into the courtyard. He surveyed them, lined up perfectly. Raising his sword high, he called, "Welcome to my Castle. Here we celebrate the gathering of so illustrious a group. We may agree that dragons have become quite aggressive and unruly. Something has to be done! There must be a knight that is willing and courageous enough to challenge the Cold-drakes for the survival of the Kingdom."
A Knight stood dauntlessly before King Brogan exclaiming, "I accept the challenge because it is a duty that must be done for the well-being of Bideliaglen, and I, Carlin, have decided my efforts should be handsomely rewarded when the dragons have all been subdued."
King Brogan sat suddenly, stricken with apoplexy. Mage Imbildômé slithered toward the gasping monarch, his eyes scintillating wickedly. "Lord, allow me to lift the heavy spell afflicting you and restore your vitality." Imbildômé pointed his staff at Brogan: "HEAL!" Immediately [the] King jerked upright, as a flock of birds descended from the heavens headed towards Imbildômé and himself.
Watching this, Carlin sprang up, sword unsheathed, ready for action! Imbildômé glared at the knight and pointed angrily at him with frowning eyes. He spat, "Sit down, Carlin. Don't be such a hero. I have more magical abilities than you."
After a pause, the knight sheathed his long sword and mounted his stallion, Faerniriel, and galloped toward Mount Drágûn, kicking the ribs, causing Faerniriel to RUN. They watched horse and rider fade out against the mountain.
Upon the mountaintop perched a golden-scaled dragon named Greeredan, who observed Carlin galloping towards the sloping foothills. Hungry, Greeredan licked his fangs, anticipating a plan that lured unsuspecting trespassers upon the mountain. Eagerly, Greeredan waited while Carlin continued approaching
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* Wow! Two years? LOL, time flies by when you're having fun!
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