1 dogcalledzak, Feb 16, 2017
#Stoneway
Here it is: Episode Three of Stoneway! Hope you like and pls remember to comment below your thoughts and opinions:)
Previous Episode: http://www.tengaged.com/blog/dogcalledzak/7899203/stoneway-s1-e2-thoughts
Cast:
Cast
Leytana Morrland carlyjordan14
Peter 'abrogated
Oliver Jjred45
Retlar Indiybomboo,
Nicolas BOBLOL654
Thomas Morrland TMac_Elite
Wip Strawton
Ott Smith
Elizabeth May Survivorgame1
Sara Anne May Minniemax
Jon May
Elizabeth May was proud to be a Witch. She knew reading and writing was not her strong point, with her sister, two years younger at Eight, already exceeding the skill level she was capable of and cooking was just not in her interest but being a Witch, that made her feel good about herself. She had something most people didn't and to her (and a lot of others) that made her special.
Dawn had slowly begun to rise, the tip of the sun edging its way over the trees that towered high above the cold child, sleeves of Goosebumps crawling up her arms. The Endless Forrest, a stupid name thought Elizabeth, knowing nothing can last forever, got its name from old folk laws explaining people have wondered into the trees only to get lost and never be seen again. Rumours spoke of bodies of starved people being found years later underneath dirt and soil that had began to consume them for part of the earth.
"Then surely they were eaten?" She used to say whenever her mother told her the stories however each time her parents would deny her claims. Growing up she realized it was probably just a story told by adults to warn off their children from playing too deep into the wood; though it wasn't going to stop her. Birds had begun to sing now while horses heavy hooves could be heard echoing from the distance. Stoneway was waking to it's first day without a King and Liz, unaware of how important to the city that was just wished everyone would stop talking about it.
In her small hands she held her wand. A long, thin, almost twig like object, the top sharp with a point. She held it away from her body, arm extended long like her father Jon May had taught her when they used to come to these parts to train, away from Peasants or Royal eyes. She never really understood why but her father had always made it pretty clear that he didn't want either of his girls practicing magic in the city or without him near by; she didn't want to know how'd he react if he new where she was now. It was okay though Elizabeth thought, her parents and sister Ida were sleeping when she'd left and they wouldn't awake for at least another hour allowing time for more hunting. She'd snuck out the window of her shared bedroom, Ida snoring loudly as she climbed out onto the quiet street. No lights. No Guards. No one. Empty and beautiful. Then she propped the window back onto the frame and stuck a small stick in-between the..
2 dogcalledzak, Feb 13, 2017
Here it is: Episode Two of Stoneway! Hope you like and pls remember to comment below your thoughts and opinions:)
Episode Previous: http://www.tengaged.com/blog/dogcalledzak/7897039/got-style-blog-series-opinions
Cast
Leytana Morrland carlyjordan14
Peter abrogated
Oliver Jjred45
Retlar Indiybomboo,
Nicolas BOBLOL654
Thomas Morrland TMac_Elite
Wip Strawton
Ott Smith
Elizabeth May Survivorgame1
Sara Anne May Minniemax
Jon May
Choirs sung all night for their king, their voices echoing around Stoneway and into Peter Morrlands bedroom that over looked the city from the highest part of their castle home. He sat at his study desk made out of rich oak, a candle in its holder burning bright with wax dripping down the stick while he read, his fingers tapping lightly on the pages to the song being sung outside. The room was spacious, big but mostly because it was empty. A tall standing bed with golden posts rising from the frame towards the candle chandler that hung proud in the centre of the ceiling was draped with rich red covers made from the finest material found in the city and pushed against the back wall. Floorboards were a dark stained oak the same as the writing desk that sat in front of the window were sunlight falls through during the day however night only allowed for the sickly orange glow of candle sticks; or complete darkness. Then there was a mirror, below there was a dresser, a chair in the corner accompanied by a small bookshelf and then nothing; just emptiness. Peter hated spending too much time in his room due to feeling lost or isolated. It was cold and damp and completely shut off from the rest of his home.
"You should get some sleep" spoke Leytana softly who had been standing in the doorway for the last few minutes to just quietly observe her son like she used to when he was young. He was now a man. Twenty, handsome with soft curly brown hair and emerald eyes just like his dad. She missed the young years.
"I need to read"
"Why? It can wait till morning. It's been a long day"
His mother's voice always made him feel calmer mainly because of the softness it held, only ever heard when she was alone and speaking to her children.
"I'm to be King"
"Yes."
"Yet I know nothing about ruling a Kingdom. But soon I will be sitting in that throne with a crown on my head with people to call my own who expect me to do stuff but yet I don't know how"
"You'll be a great King."
"I'm not ready."
His mother walked gently over to the window, still wearing the dress from earlier, her footsteps so light it was as if she was floating. Out of the window the city of Stoneway lit up by candles set in shacks and homes belonging to their people while choirs, paid by the Morrlands walked in rows down streets singing.
"Listen"..
3 dogcalledzak, Feb 12, 2017
Want to know what one you would prefer to read - this story or yesterdays:) Opinions would be great:)
The city of Stoneway had never stood so silent. Crowds of peasants and their children stood in long, drawn out rows guiding down the main city walkways all awaiting a glimpse of King Morrlands coffin to pay their forced respects. It was what was expected; it was a written law. Morrlands army marched in unison down the dust stone pathways, their swords drawn and held tall in front of them, their armour black in mourning. Music echoed around as violins played softly from the houses above as musicians sat, watching on from the window's edge, their instruments song running down to the orange stone streets below.
Children of the guards followed behind carrying violet petals from The Kings favourite flower that grew wild every summer on the outskirts of his kingdom; usually climbing up along the walls of harbours bay and tangling with the ivy. These children, no older than ten, were all products of his lordship's men which meant they had been born into the role of royal servants from the moment they broke from the womb and would one day serve whatever King or Queen stood proud above the people. It was an old custom, created so no matter what war or battle came to Stoneway's grounds that over time a army would grow and conquer once again. What followed behind the young apprentices was the Black Prayers. Ancient men wrapped in sheer black ropes, darker than the nights sky that draped down from head to toe, covering the whole of the body except a gap for their mouth; lips colourless and cracked with age. The Black Prayers, also known my many as The Men of the Lord lived in the underground bunkers built below the churches. They prayed constantly, given their lives and souls away for God however little was known about the Men or their beliefs; they left well alone so so did the people, allowing them to pray and do whatever custom were expected.
Then, like all royal funerals that had came before this, the coffin followed next, carried by his four sons. The lid of the coffin was missing for his Lordship to feel air on his pale skin for one last time and for the people he had once ruled over to witness his decaying body before making way for their next leader. King James Morrland lay peaceful and content, eyes wide to stare blankly at the sky. Dressed in deaths ropes with a golden chain laced around his neck and a crown of thorns cutting into the top of his head he continued along the streets, slower as his boys struggled to keep their father high above their heads. No tears, not from the men of the house. It was unroyal like. Not male. Not the sons of a king.
"Men fight. Women wait for our return. Men die. Women cry over the loss" was what their father, The King used to tell them every time they asked for one of his rich and detailed stories. "How can a man who is meant to control and dictate, show weakness every time something..
