So It Began... -Addi

I clutched my suitcase tightly. Everything I owned was in my hands.
There wasn't much, now that I think about it, but then it was my whole world.
Part of me ached, I think sensing what was to come, but I was mostly excited. Thrilled.
I was free, adventure was on the horizon. I didn't look back on the orphanage where I had spent all my life.
Oh, how naive I was. Young, innocent still. I wish...
But I must get on with the story.
I skipped out the gate, the black iron fence glaring at my back as I left. It was sunny, I remember, the first sunny day in weeks. Everything surrounding me was the dull city grey. The buildings, the sidewalks, the street. Occasionally there were browns and blacks, but for the most part it was the same dreary grey.
How did I stand it? I suppose because it was all I knew.
The streets were almost bare in my old neighborhood. The old beggar man everyone knew stood at the corner. I'm ashamed to say that in the ten years I'd seen him, I never spoke to him. Not once.
A woman hurried a little boy down the street. I smiled at his freckled little face.
Once I got to the market, the streets were far more crowded. I held my suitcase closer to my body. I managed to dart between people, thankful once more I was small.
The noises almost overwhelmed me. Of course I'd been to the market before, on errands, but I never really got used to it. People yelling about what they have to sell, dogs barking, ladies chatting away... There was so much.
I slipped through, grabbing a bit of food on the way.
And then I was out. Breathing a sigh of relief, I kept walking. I knew where the city wall was, and I headed there. Almost out.
That city was small, but to me it felt huge. I had no knowledge of the world outside. It was a bit after noon when I got to the wall. The gates were open, but there was practically no traffic. It wasn't an important city at all.
I finally looked back. One more step, and I left it all behind.
I took a step.
The road stretched in front of me, and I could where it curved up ahead. I continued, musing over things. I don't remember what I thought about. Probably the girls back at the orphanage. I didn't get along with them, except Gretchen. I would miss her. Her and Andrew, the boy who used to deliver  groceries and stuff. But he had left about a year ago.
I was patient, back then. I just walked, all day. When nightfall came, I opened the suitcase and pulled out a blanket and curled up by the side of the road.
It was the third day before anything happened.

The Tree of Stories and Round Three! - Jamie

http://www.tolkienprofessor.com/wp/lectures/introduction/

You are all required to listen to this 28 minute lecture. U_U Absolutely mandatory. All SS folks MUST listen.

Because we are sub-creators. Because we're busy unfolding the leaves of stories. Because the rage for originality in our modern world eats away at us if we don't reject it. I want to hear more about why Tolkien thought it was a sign of the corruption of our age... it makes sense, it rings true, but I don't know why.

A predictable story is not less valuable, if it's well-written! If you predict how things will go, and the writing is poor, it's disappointing. But a well-written predictable ending can be very satisfying. x) Not that unexpected twists aren't necessary as well, but that's inevitable. There's no way the reader can predict exactly what each character will say and do, even if they have the general picture.

All tales derive from the Great Tree of Stories, not from the writer... they're all leaves. Undeniable. They're all leaves. Butttt! No two leaves are the same.

No two leaves are the same. It's impossible to write a story which isn't original. Just try to write a story exactly like someone else's! Impossible. Similar situations, similar plot elements, etc...? Of course. They're all leaves. But each leaf is unique. No one else has what you have to offer, no one else can unfold this leaf you have before you. If you don't unfold it, we'll never know. Stories have been told for thousands of years, and will continue to be told. Your story is just as valuable as the ones before it, and the ones that will come. No one else has what you have to offer!

We are made in the image of a maker. And we all have sub-creations to offer to the world. For us gathered here, our sub-creations are writing. We here are those who unfold the leaves. x) Not everyone sub-creates by writing. Not everyone writes, everyone has potential in different areas. But we gathered here are the writers! And I love that. ^,_^

So! Let's do another round of freewriting! =D

We can talk about soapboxing later. For now... just write. Just write.

Prompt:

I clutched my suitcase tightly. Everything I owned was in my hands.

Another Delivery- Josh

He held out his hand, fully expecting me to give the scroll back. I stepped back with a look of defiance, my blade in a guard, angled so the light glinted off back at him.

“Last warning kid. Hand the scroll over an’ I won’t use your insides as wall decorations” The gruff man scowled. “And believe me- I will.”

I fingered the trigger at the base of the cross guard. I was hesitant, knowing he could only looked unarmed. In this world, you never knew who was an ordinary guy and who was one of the psychos. I shook my head. “What even is it? This is just a job, and my employers are sure as heck is gonna pay a lot more than a simple threat.”

“Never is easy, is it?” He sighed. “If I tell you I’m going to need to kill you. Which, at this point, is soundin’ mighty pleasin’.”

“With what?” I feigned ignorance, already knowing his most likely answer. I shouldn’t have taken the job. The untraceable transmission, stealing a scroll from the Sigma-Omega vault (a red class vault I was told, and that was hardly something I would turn down). I was up to it. Everyone knows I’m the craziest transporter since that Ginon guy. Just like everyone knows Sigma-Omega is a bunch of freaks.

“Was itchin’ for a bit o’ blood anyhow.” He growled. His hands began to glow, and I pulled the trigger. My blade began to hum as the edge vibrated, gaining a glow of its own.

I swore more colorfully than the time where the rebels caught me snaking extra energy shards for Laz and Fin. I barely dodged the first punch, my enhanced frame all that kept me from getting floored- or losing my head. I looked critically at his arms, now completely enveloped in the aura. His hand seemed to smoke as it tore through the air. Finally, I saw what I expected. His hands began to change, from their fleshy tone into a dark grey. I let loose a few more choice words. “Cybermorph!” I hissed. “You’re a human ‘bot!”

“A man that can become machine… Funny things in those scrolls kid. Maps to more bits o’ power like this. Hand it over,  I’ll kill you quick. Don’t… And I’ll have some fun.”

I, of course, did the natural thing for an upstanding thief, delivery man, and fine human such as myself would do when faced with a lunatic. I sent my foot up, praying to every deity that came to mind that he hadn’t fully morphed yet. His grimace, cringe, and squeak answered me. I then completed my ingenious tactic as was only logical, tipping my hat and running like I was on fire. Which, from the looks of things, could be a very viable outcome.

The Four Nations - Jamie

          He held out his hand, fully expecting her to give the scroll back. She handed it to him slowly. "I can't read a word of it."

          "Nor can I," admitted Thystorm. "But once I give it to her, I'll have the funds for my education. We can go to school in Village Central together, Ammay!"
          The girl looked at him like he was insane. "Thystorm!" she growled.
          "The scroll is what he's been after since the very beginning," inserted Iydren with a reproachful glance at the young man.
          There they stood. Ammay, 16 and firm. Thystorm, 19 and desperate. Iydren, 10 and quietly strong.
          The young man instantly looked remorseful, turning an apologetic eye on Iydren. "I'm sorry, I really am. Haven't I tried to make up for it?"
          "For what?" asked Ammay.
          Iydren crossed his arms. "The scroll would never have been unlocked from the vault in the first place if Thystorm hadn't practically handed me over to the duke."
          With a groan of frustration, he clenched the scroll tighter. "I'm sorry! I said I was sorry. I wish I'd taken it away from our enemies sooner, before they managed to wreck such havoc."
          No one said the unspoken sentence... but Ammay and Iydren both said it with their eyes. Aren't you sorry you betrayed Iydren and let them take the scroll from the vault in the first place?
          "I need the scroll!" he said defensively. We'll lock the magic back in the vault, but not the scroll. Honestly. What good is the scroll's instructions if one has not the magic to use it on? It can do no further harm."
          "No," said Ammay, "It can't get much worse than that. Look!"
          They looked. Several miles away, they saw... that the sea was rising. A great tidal wave such as the four corners of the continent had never before seen. It would wipe out entire cities and villages. The nation of Niluin would soon be in ruin.
          "There goes your home country, Thystorm." said Ammay. She barely resisted adding, "Good job."
          The young man's eyes were wide, seeing that all his efforts were now vain.
          Iydren had tears in his eyes. "The rebellion of Shryuin... the epidemic of Trenkuin... the army's march on Malthire... and now this. At this rate, it won't be long before Algoth has all four nations under his sway!"

Scribe - Bree

-->

He held out his hand, fully expecting me to give the scroll back. I hugged it to my chest, eying his hand. Did he really think I’d just… offer him my life’s work so he could burn it?

“No. You can’t destroy it.”

He heaved a sigh and spoke softly as if to a child, saying, “Alicia, if we keep it here, the Royals will find it and-“ his eyes hardened –“they will take us. This is our home, Alicia, let’s keep it that way. I don’t care if you don’t like it, but the scroll must be burned.”

I shook my head adamantly, but before I could say anything, his hands reached out and tore it from my grip.

“No! You can’t!” I screamed, horrified. If he burned this… Ohhh, Protector, Holy One, don’t let this happen! I cried out in my mind. “Give it back, Zaan!”

He turned his body away from me and to the fire. I had to do something!

I clawed at his back, trying fervently to reach around and grab the precious document back, but my brother was taller than me and stronger. How could tending sheep give him such strength? I groaned with frustration. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“You can’t do this!”

“I can and I will. I must!” With those words, he tossed it into the hungry flames.

“NO!!” I yelled, rushing towards it. I felt a yank on my sash, and realized Zaan was holding me back. “You can’t! You can’t, I say!!” I screamed at him. My life’s work! The information that was being burned… Ohh! How could he discard it so easily?

Over my cries, I just barely registered the fact that he now held me in his arms against his chest, stroking my hair with a gentle hand, whispering soothing, calm words into my ear. I refused to hear them. The vile, evil man! How dared he call me his sister? If he loved me, wouldn’t he try to work for me and not against?

I couldn’t move, though. My muscles were weak and tired. My raging storm of emotions only made my head hurt more.

“Alicia, shhh! It’s all right, my little kardesh. I just couldn’t let them come and take you and mother away.” He patted my shoulder lightly.

Sniffing and still shaking with tears, I turned my head to look at the remaining ashes of my scroll. Burned. Destoryed. Gone.

How did this happen?   

Oh, by the way, Lace... "Kardesh" is "sister" in Turkish. xD 

The Tale of the Scroll - Addi

"He held out his hand, fully expecting me to give the scroll back." Jeremy's voice filled the room, weaving a story for his little charges. "I didn't know whether to laugh or run. I stared at the knight, my hands shaking." He held up his hands to demonstrate.
The children's eyes were wide as they stared at the Seeker.
"What did you do?" One little girl said impatiently.
"Shhhh!" The others protested.
Jeremy continued. "'I won't give it to you,' I told him. He glared and came closer to me." The young man glared at the children and tried to make his voice menacing. "'You will give me the scroll, boy. Willingly or not. I will get that reward!'  I reached for my sword, but I wasn't fast enough. He lunged for me, dragging me down."
The children all gasped, despite the fact they had heard the story several times before.
"I thought for sure he would get the scroll. Right when I thought all hope was lost, there was a shout from above. Enemies! I thought desperately. But I was wrong, which does not happen often." He winked and the children smiled.
"Who?" A boy said, pulling his thumb out of his mouth just long enough to form the word.
"The Keepers," Jeremy said dramatically. "Lord Cale and Lady Maria led the warriors down the hill. The knight ran for his life, scared just by the sight of the army. We got the scroll safe."
"What did it say?" Someone in the back asked. Everyone leaned forward. This was the best part.
Jeremy's voice echoed through the hall so everyone, not just the children, ceased their conversation and listened.
"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock. And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me: therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the Lord. Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice: have mercy also upon me, and answer me. When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek. Hide not thy face far from me; put not thy servant away in anger: thou hast been my help; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation. When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord : be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord."
The little wide eyes stared at him and he wanted to laugh. Beautiful peace and joy filled him in way only those words could. This was why he had fought those terrible battles and went through so much. So that these little children could hear the words of The Lord without fear, so they could tell stories and sing songs of His power and love and not be threatened by the government.
And it was worth it.

A little over twenty minutes... It looks a lot longer than it is because of that long passage. I tried to narrow it down but I loved those verses too much. :P 

Round Two Prompt! -Lace

"He held out his hand, fully expecting me to give the scroll back."

Lace will soapbox for Bree.
Bree will soapbox for Josh.
Josh will soapbox for Jamie.
Jamie will soapbox for Lace.

You have 15-20 minutes ;D GO!