5500 words, three chapters..

The setting sun shadowed the figures standing on top of Jranka hill. The smoke from the battlefield below rose to the heavens and those that were still alive limped away.

A small humanoid (hobbit variant?)broke the silence, "Will it happen again Balan? Will he come again spewing his flame across the lands, killin' kin" he sobbed, tears streamed down his rosey cheeks,"Will he be bringin those vile creatures to blast our land with their filth? Will he Balan?"

A mailed hand gently grasped his small shoulders, "One never knows what the fates will bring, Mihkel, all we can hope for is a better tommorow."

"Bah, what kind of drivel is that Balan? are you looking for some Bard to sing your praises - Mihkle, Evil never dies it

I wrote this when I was thirteen..wow,

[This message has been edited by TMan1969 (edited July 24, 2006).]