I found this writing where it has to be written back in 2006? I know it is NOT perfect, but I thought I'd post it here just because... mostly because I'm bored and wanted to do something fun with this website.
'Chapter 1'
Wandering aimlessly, she explored the unfamiliar landscape. Strange noises were heard. The light are dim, the sun hidden behind the thick clouds. Her long hair became heavy from the rain. She blinked many times as she tried to see her blurry environment. The air are thick with strange odor. She forced herself to swallow bales several times. She then knew where she was. The Land of the Dead. People died in the area--people who fought endless battles. Countless number of people suffered and died in the cursed land. There she wandered with a serious task in mind. It was a great risk she's willing to take. People marveled and feared for her. Some said she's a witch. Some said she's a fool. Land of the Dead--none ever returned alive. Anyone who enter shall join the dead.
Wearing a dark green hooded cloak, he watched the crowd from the corner of the bar. His sensitive ears heard many rumors. But one seem to caught his attention: [needs a name]. A name who whispered with respect or fear--as if a person are either a curse or a famous Queen.
"She is a great fool to enter the Land of the Dead. She will bring curse on us. We should have killed her. Better off dead here than there!" a man muttered between spits.
"She goes there because she's heartbroken. She was in love with someone. Now she does not care about life and wants to be dead," a heavy-boned woman claimed while cleaning a table nearby.
"She is a shy secret servant to our King. A deadly quest. What is it for? I know not!" grunted the old man.
Because few people asked me to try continue this story so this is 'chapter two'. I am not satisfied with it because I realized that I needed to add more details into the story about the Land of the Dead. What was so dangerous about it? What was it that makes people dare not cross the place? Gah!
'Chapter 2'
He tightened the dark green cloak around his chin as he marched through the rain. He was carrying a baggage sling across his chest, with a thick belt carrying a sword and dagger. “She’ll never survive alone,” he muttered to himself. Down through the wasteland, he carefully hiked, searching for signs of life. He found it after two days of hiking. It was a terrible place to be. The sleep was hard due to endless nightmares, of inexperienced battles and wars, of pain and death. The air so heavily damp and it rank with foul taste of dying souls. He was greatly relief when he found her. Eager to be done with and get out of the unpleasant place, he approached to her carefully, and spoke her name.
She turned toward him, with calm expression. “Why do you come?” she spoke quietly with a hint of threat. Before he could answer, “I do not need your help. It is for me be to be alone, my own duty and life and pledge. It is for me to have it done myself, for myself alone. It is something only a willing soul can make it happen. I do not need your help. Your help will interfere my quest. Please leave or I will kill you.” She glared at him with strong warning expression on her face, then turns away to resume her journey.
He allow her to walk several feet away before he began to follow her, unwilling to be pushed away. He nearly stumbled through a hole, which could have break his ankle. He cursed himself for being clumsy. He shifted his concentration to watch where he’s going while keeping the distance in between, rather than lull by her unexpected appearance. A strong looking woman of full figured, walking as if she lived in this area everyday, with extremely attractive face. He became puzzled with what he had heard of her. A shy secret servant to the King? Unlikely. Surely a King would wanted an attractive woman to be his, a wife or a concubine. Why a servant instead?
He mulled over with what he learned of her from collections of people he came across. Heartbroken and no long want to live. Secret quest given by the King. A beautiful disgrace. A witch. Not enough information. Most looked at him as if he was out of his mind for saying her name. Most seemed to be relief to learn that she was out of the city into the Land of the Dead. “She deserved it,” some muttered.
He glanced at the sky and the dull sun, calculated that it was soon dinnertime. Judging by the direction she’s leading, they should be out of the ungodly place by next day, if that was where she was actually heading to. There was a small town, at the edge of the river, running downstream into the wasteland. He knew a thing or two about it and hope to buy two horses for easier and faster transportation, to wherever she’s heading to. He hoped to learn it from her, secret or not.
Some hours later as the day darken into night, the land became eerily alive. Movements often caught by the corner of the eye, but never manage to spot what it really was. Sounds seems to deafening at each hour as they march onward along the pathless land. Now and then there were voices whispering of death and pain, vivid detail of the battle of hate and pride.
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