-Lately, I have been thinking through an explicit manner to find myself a currier. The idea upon a manner has been growing within my mind. It has become utterly comprehensible that I am either taking a week-2 week break or I am quitting this site for good. Seeming to be that there has nothing been directly pressured the comical manner has brought me to a low point, for both writing and stress. Moreover who I displease should know I hold a sorrow feeling for them but not me. For all of the good writers who will miss me I drink part in a nightcap for the respect of honor, friendships, and loyalty. For this nightcap, I share a story…possibly the last story within the use of the site. I give you a story of none but a story so sou. Enjoy the bitter end if it grows so on old moss.
*Northern watched posted greatly giving warmth of protection from the unwritten sounded stories of an inn. The old Brassell inn fended of applewood portraying a soft smell. No fire was lit for indeed there was no meaning feeling warmth spring from the feral and snowy lands. Finally, the land of scarcity had found rooted warmth blushing the cold ground proceeding upon the snow resting weight fully on the top of trees. Following the stone roadways of Gondiler and then into the old Brassel inn would find two men lean headed into silence. One known as Fyzenguard with pipe attray and lenient apparition. As so on the second not known very well but still hidden without doubt or atray. Still, silence weeps over the two closely bound friends who have always bound tight within a rope and pole. Unknowingly both had portrayed in wither fonding a lead of contact.*; Fyzenguard?; *The blacker figure question lift of head to show it Angelo Reeves known as Fyzenguards oldest friend. *
*Shunned to look up Fyzenguard still does finding himself in a sorrowful delusion.*; Aye; *Fyzenguard whisps holding his voice nearly hidden but his eyes unbribable shown.*; What do you think of yourself old friend, you are not what you seem.; * Fyzenguards eyes freeze over granting the blue they were born to be. Not only had he seemed confused about the question but had also thought of the question many times before*; Angelo…I will tell you what I am. I was born through a sheer disgrace. I have granting nothing but a play toy for my father. There was nothing else I was taught besides the fact I do not carry love and only parden within the strands of the battlefield.; *It had seemed Angelo had seduced the confusion taking it into himself stating to Fyzenguard speaking within a soft tone.* ; Now you do not hold that true, even you should know it a lie,; *Still Fyzenguard had thought differently lifting his small pipe and pressing the tip of it into his mouth inhaling to show the cherry burn within the bowl of the pipe. Only did Fyzenguard speak back when he lifted his head blowing a blue ring of smoke* ; Aye but Angelo I grasp the matter hard. Look at what I have done…think back to what has come of me” *No silence was left behind as Angelo speaks back quite amedietly within a discouraged manner* ;I pitty you Fyzenguard, look at all the good you have done; *Then Fyzenguard takes the immediate action to speak* “What good? the good of saving my father from his throne…yes that is what you don´t understand Angelo. Even though the goodness, I have done there is nothing I withhold besides the killing of innocents. Even then I was tortured within the lands of Nethandranork for nearly a year. I am a fool filled with the magic of bad luck. Nothing good has happened to me…now I doubt myself and know I am to die.; *Angelo then comes to a sudden silence knowing Fyzenguard right but one last thought walks into his mind speaking out to Fyzenguard*; What about the times I spent with you Fyzenguard…when you had the heart virus. Was that not worth the time of our friendship; *Knowingly of the sorts Fyzenguard then hides his face looking towards the kettles of ale and then looking to his pipe which had then gone out* ; Angelo, you wasted your time when you did that. I should have died many years ago and now it is soon to come; *After the slight talk both would fall back in through a familiar state of silence as they had beheld last behind the conversation. Nnothing now seems to show of the departure of the two men…one of ice and the other of doubt.*