well i was telling Eth earlier that i was writing a story and in case he did not believe me here is a bit of it.

Hassin continued up the hill that was near the skipper river. He walked with a stride that implied strength. The sun was shimmering; it caught his armor at the tips of his pointed, gold trimmed guards. The sun slowly moved across his red and golden breastplate all the way down to his yellow-flecked boots. At first glance a viewer would not see the finer details of his armor. Around the wrist was a silver gauntlet it was trimmed with the finest minerals in the land. He continued up the hill. As he reached the top he looked upon his kingdom. To the west was the mighty waterfall which explained why it was called Harisha Minask this meant the “drowned phoenix” to the east loomed the Hontu mountain range. To the south was the “sharista fashi” or shimmering forest, to the north was the Haratis or “haunted plains”. Not much was know about this place, the haunted plains, all that was really known was that no one had returned alive from that region.
Hassin was a very powerful Warrior, for he had been trained by the best and knew that he could defeat all except the gods. There were many men, women, and children looking upon him with admiration and awe. He felt the thrill of being a person envied. He turned his gaze and like a hawk he looked at the shimmering palace surrounded by thousands of men and manipulators alike. The men, with their brown messy hair, always flaunting their custom created weapons, were continuing on the never-ending lap around the palace of the Emperor. “The Emperor.” Hassin remembered with hate and something much worse. The worst person ever to exist, Pointlessly displaying his power by daily executions and raids on his own villages, He did all these indignant acts with a smile and flourish of his fine, dry marked, hands. If there was anyone he hated it was the Ruler of this land of havoc known as Saze. He returned his gaze to his subjects; something caught his eye like a shimmering, silver, fog. He squinted closer and his first suspicion was confirmed. He then thought to himself, “Ha! what a fool.” Then with the quickness of a hawk he sprung down his hill. He knew, as fast as a rushing bull, he could defeat his opponent, a weakling, a foolish Trojan. This Trojan had violated the vow to never wield a weapon in front of the shimmering warrior’s hill. Hassin was upon his opponent and swung his blazing weapon three times. Seconds later the foolish Trojan was nothing but a shimmering ghost in the air. Hassin continued upon his way while. His followers were swarmed around him near, but not quite touching. They formed a Semi circle covering Hassin’s back. He looked about his mighty kingdom, which had remained in peace for many years.
Something was nagging in Hassin’s head, something did not seem right about this particular walk. Suddenly he knew, spinning around he screamed, “Traitorous bastards! Die!” He spun his shield around just in time to block five of the traitors’ attacks. He had known something was going to happen the walk had just been to perfect. Then, like the warrior he was, he began to fight the traitors. He felt nothing but purest rage for this treachery. Suddenly around Hassin a giant, sparking, blood red circle appeared from his weapon. The Traitors were dead before they could tell what had happened. Hassin grinned to himself; he had just proven how powerful he was for the followers left unharmed. He continued upon the weather beaten trail, the gravel was crackling under his dried cowhide boots as he entered his forest.



Feel free to critique

not bad. im guessing u didnt write this urself

i did write this myself spent almost a whole summer on it this is only a small segment I have like 40 some other pages if alot of ppl read this and like it ill put more up.

part two it seems that alot of players like what i had so far so i decided to add a little more here it goes
He called it “Harion Shah” this meant “my home”. He wandered into his home forest and began the activity that he loved. Widdeling he had loved this occupation ever since he was a child. He remembered his father holding his hand, helping him guide the knife to sever the bark off with no problem of roughness. His father had been a master craftsman; he had high hopes for Hassin. As Hassin reflected upon his past he had subconsciously made this stick into an ocarina. This reminded him of his sweet, rose scented mother. She would always exit her house when the heat of day had turned into red veins on the clouds to venture into these exact woods. She would play her flute. She was an expert player her notes came out perfect and smooth all the time. She would play minari shanto this meant “my choice” Hassin strained his brain to remember the words to that mystifying rhythm. Before he knew it he playing the rhythm his mother used to play. He had no idea he was capable of this.
Suddenly he thought he heard an unnatural sound. Wary, he placed his ocarina down and picked up his weapons. There seemed to be a rustling in the woods. This was not normal. His first thought brought up the mental image of a humanoid face with veins so large they looked as though they were going to burst. Their bodies were far from human however; they had shriveled limbs and claws as big as Hassin sword these nightmare beings were called Rashinga this meant worm being. Those creatures were particularly nasty. Fortunately for Hassin he knew how to handle these creatures. He crept stealthily towards the direction that sound had originated from. He wandered closer, closer, now only a few steps away form the location of the disturbance. He pushed aside a leaf from the bush a few of the black ants upon this leaf fell soundlessly to the water deprived ground. “GRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Hassin leaped back, slammed his club in the ground, spun around the handle of his weapon, and kicked the creature in the head. The monster fell upon the ground with a heavy “THUD!” While the creature lay on the ground, stunned, Hassin got a closer glance at it. The creature turned out to be a Santra. Hassin was horror struck Santra were the Emperor’s personal spies. They were ruthless beings they had a permanent bloodstain on their face. They were rarely sent out after people, usually they were sent to capture foes in the dread plain. They had the build of a gorilla and the intelligence of a human. There were many stories on these horrid creatures, none of them had ended well. Hassin retreated back hoping that he would have a small fragment of a chance against this type of creature. The Santra stood up with a blood leaking down his covered face. Hassin still retreating remained in a fighting position. The Santra suddenly vanished; appeared behind the son of Sharia and impaled him with his beautiful, Ruby, and Emerald studded blade. The Santra called it Flasher everyone else called it shimmering killer or Sharaka. The sword was an ornament of the Mansha Family. Hassin felt the shimmering jewels attached to cold steel as the blade pierced him farther. Hassin was able to tell just how wide the blade was, because he felt a wave of pain erupt thorough his shoulder. Hassin collapsed screaming to the ground. This pain became rage, Hassin then launched himself of the ground into the air, performed a backflip over the enemy, swung his shield and scored on the back of the Santra. The Santra amazed but unharmed at the skill of his opponent smiled. Then he swung his blade around his body and focused all of his strength into the blow of his trusty weapon. Hassin, expecting an attack, parried with his shield unfortunately the blow had such force it blasted him twenty feet back. Hassin, bloody, and weakened by his shoulder injury was forced to lower his arm wielding the shield.

go ahead i grant you freedom to flatter or critique

i like the first part better, u need to fix some of this. but its still pretty decent