Storythread

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It's not bad. You could probably give it another draft or two to sharpen it up, but in terms of prose you're more or less okay.

Not really sure about the content - it would help if I knew where you were going with it.

>you could use a second draft
>in other news, guitars need tuning and dogs bark

That aside, its about people going insane and teenage angst. The city is in the turmoil of a plague driving people insane, like zombies but much more competently insane, ie still able to use guns and will track down people they wanted to kill anyways.

But mostly its about teenage angst and friends being actually terrible people.

Awww yeeee
I was hoping this thread was up today.

>I was at work reminiscing about threads past

your shooter, and the shooting, seems a little cliche (and by cliche I mean Columbine rip-off). If you're making fun of teenage angst it works but if you're dealing with the topic at all seriously you need to mix it up a little.

>This school shooting reads just like a real school shooting!
>What the fuck man!

except that it takes details from one specific school shooting when there are hundred to choose from. There are plenty of different motives and methods, there's no reason to borrow from the most famous (and overused) one. You're about fifteen years, dozens of books, a couple of films and the obligatory Law and Order episode too late to cash in on America's moral panic over Columbine

here, have fun with this
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_school_shootings_in_the_United_States
and if you don't see anything you like I'm sure there'll be more soon.

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My eyes are still unfocused, but I could tell that I wasn't alone.

"You waiting for someone?"
My sight's slowly improving, at least now I could recognize that this person was taller than I was by like an inch or two. Hair looked short, bright. Saying anything was hard, mouth felt like I was wearing a weight.
"You okay?"
Head feels like a hundred hammers going off. Can't even begin remembering what happened before I got here.
"Man, you're looking a little rough. Think you can hold on even a little while longer?" It's not like I can say anything else. The stranger just walked off. I think I remember this place more now that I can see more of it. It's a grubby underground sorta place. Pretty certain I've passed by here before, maybe on the way to work.

The stranger comes back a couple minutes later.
"Hope you don't mind it being light. I'm kinda weak to the strong stuff myself." In those long fingers is a bottle of light beer.
"Nice jacket," were the first words out of my mouth. It feels like it's about to crack. Like it's been years since I drank anything. I take the drink and down a swig. The sensation's a welcome one to my throat.
"Oh, you talk!" The stranger's voice sounds feminine. Couldn't really tell from the face, it's a really androgynous one. I notice ear piercings by the score. "So, how much do you remember?"

Sure my senses are kicking in, but my mind's still muddy. "Sorry."
She chuckles. "Ah, what's it matter to me? If you don't mind, I'll accompany you." The stranger takes a seat next to me, producing a bottle of her own. "This brand's actually my favorite."
I take to humoring her. "You...come here often?"
"I do." She replies, "Though I don't always spend my nights taking care of a drunk."
"Am I...special?"
She laughs. "I guess! You look like you need someone."

As I spent my time drinking, the two of us just tried to banter about anything. The stranger's name was Amelia, and she was a storeclerk who lived around here. She also enjoyed drinking.

"Holy shit, my ring pop is melting, now my hands are all sticky"

>en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_school_shootings_in_the_United_States
All that's missing is Wikipedia's usual
>[This article is incomplete, you can help by expanding it]

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She especially enjoyed the bar we were next to, having met her late boyfriend, Matt, there. Every Tuesday she'd be here to watch the football games. However, it's been almost a month since she went. Said it reminded her too much of him.
The whole time, I felt sorry. She didn't seem to feel anything about it, like it didn't matter but I could tell that it hurt. She wasn't even tearing up at the mention of how she grieved at his funeral, about how she spent weeks locked up in his room, trying to take in all of his scent. Even though I didn't know a thing about this person, I felt burdened, like I had something to do with all of it. I was good at hiding it though, at least I thought I was.
She stops and looks. "Don't worry so much about it. It's...well, I'm better for it."
"I don't."
Amelia sighs as she puts her bottle down. "Ah, must've been too much of a downer. Sorry. It's just...I haven't really talked about it with anyone. Kinda funny I'm doing it with a complete stranger. Don't have that many friends. Not since the incident: most of my friends were his, parents never approved of him, and I felt...well, alone."
I take a moment to reflect on that. I'm not really the friendly type. Job gets in the way of that.
"But I'm fine enough talking with you!" She smiles again. "You're the first friend I met who wasn't related to Matt!"
"Are you fine with that?"
"You know..." she tilts her head. "I honestly don't mind that. You're a nice enough guy."

We were quiet for a bit. It was awkward to find something to talk about with her when we were just talking about her boyfriend. Perhaps I was just desperate, but I was out of options, maybe out of sense. The bottle might have helped. All I could ask was what happened.

Apparently, their relationship was going through a rough patch. Matt was laid off, and that caused problems for their rent. They've tried to work out something, but I'm guessing that before that happened, he...well, he died.

He was going to meet his brother. Supposedly he had an opening at his job at an office.
That same day, there was a shootout One guy supposedly had enough and grabbed a gun. Matt was one of those people that just...was in the way, but his brother was lucky. He was spared by Matt's sacrifice.

At that point, something finally fell in place. I remembered why I was here and why I was trying to forget it.
I'm sure it would've been a better story if perhaps I was the shooter, or I was actually a co-worker of Matt's Brother who was saved thanks to him. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much if my story was actually unrelated to this whole mess. The truth? The truth was neither of those, it just sucked.
I was a private intervener. I was sent to check on that gunman on request by his psychologist; I was good friends with her. She met with him the day before and she was seriously worried about his well-being. Considering her practice, she couldn't intervene with the police, so some little-known eye like me had to do.
I failed. I was completely and utterly too late to stop him. By the time I even reached the floor he was on, he had already killed Matt. Even taking him down meant nothing, not when I couldn't save a life. Maybe Amelia had it worse, but at least she knew how to move on; not like me. After that incident, I just...gave up. I couldn't work anymore. Anywhere I went, I was thinking about that guy, and at some point, I just thought the only answer to it was to drink.

Hence my predicament with the lover of the person I failed.
"Amelia..." I could only mutter. "I'm...I'm so sorry."
Amelia doesn't stop. "Ah, come on! I already told you, it's all right!"
"No, it's not all right." I feel myself shaking. The lights are getting too bright. It's starting to rain. "It's not all right! I failed! I failed you!" Amelia stops and stares. "I failed to stop Matt from getting shot! I ruined everything!"

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Y'all want me to post the love story?
>It has robots and dragons
or y'all want the adventure?
>It has spaceships and aliens

"What're you..."
"If I was... If I was a little faster, Matt still would've been alive." That was enough to stop her. "I'm sorry that I put you through all that, and now this."
I confessed to all that, to being the reason she was miserable, possibly being afraid to let anyone else go. She should hate me for all that, but...her face never stopped smiling.
"You know...I already moved on from it." She confesses. "I'm glad that you still care about Matt, but you're letting it trap you." She grabs my hand. "You weren't the one who pulled the trigger."
"Might as well have."
She sighs. "Come with me."

We get up and exit the underground to her apartment. It was a dirty little place, and her apartment was small, but it had room enough fit two people. I was led to a small room on the left, and I knew immediately why: It was all of Matt's stuff.
"This is...was...everything Matt had. All his clothes I couldn't just throw away, all his books, his toys. It's all here. You know why I didn't throw it all out?" I couldn't really think, not when the tempting alternative of alcohol was there to take it away. "Because...these things have all my memories of him. It's the one way I can still smile, thinking that he's watching over me. I loved him that much, so..." I think I finally notice a tear in her eyes. "So I know that if someone else feels as strongly as I do about him, that I know that he's a good person."
"You're...too nice."
Amelia laughs. "It's the only thing I'm good for these days."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"What's with the questions?" She plays at being offended. "I told you, I've moved on! C'mon, let's finish our drinks somewhere a bit less cramped."
She led me along to her cheap plastic table, able to fit only two to three people tops. The whole time she reminisced about the man she held so dearly, the man I failed. She old me about what she knew, about his most embarrassing secrets, even her plans to marry him.

As we talked, I stopped feeling bad about everything. Amelia was happy enough to talk to me, to drink with me despite everything, so I guess I...just went along with it.

It was about three in the morning when I realized that my bottle was empty. Amelia finished hers long before that.
"You can sleep here. I can sleep on the sofa, so just..." she gets up.
"Please," I insist. "I don't have to do that. Not when I..."
"It's okay, it's okay!" she then hesitates. "Actually, talking about Matt so much made me... y'know what? Would you mind...sharing it with me? I won't do anything, scout's honor."
I was suddenly conscious of the situation. "I should be saying that."
She laughs. "He said the same thing!"

I don't know how, but I was actually able to sleep that night. As soon as I was in that bed with Amelia, I was out. My dreams stopped being some painful storm of regret and pity. I stopped seeing Matt's face so much. I couldn't hear the voices that condemned me. As long as I held her hand, I felt...at peace, I guess.
I woke up to notice Amelia looking at me, our hands still together. All she had on was a tank top. "Feeling any better?"
"I...think so. Sorry."
She laughs. "I'm actually glad this happened. I was afraid I was alone in moving on, but...I guess I wasn't." My drinking partner sat up, brushing her hair. "One night, I had this dream where I was visited by him. And he said that he'd be waiting for me, but he still wanted me to have a happy life. He didn't want me to throw that away just for anyone's sake. I'm sure he'd want the same thing for you too."
"Thank you, Amelia. For everything."

She laughs. I don't get it.
"Hey, mister. I know it's probably way too late to ask, but...what's your name?"
"Luke."
"Well, Luke. I'm off the market right now, but...one day..." I notice her fidgeting. "One day, how about we go drinking again?"
"Tuesday sound good?"
She nods. "I'd love that."

tough choice. Can't say no to robots, though

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Love story. Not enough of them here.

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I think this pic is absolutely lovely.

Ok I'm this fag: I thought I had the whole thing on my tablet, I've only got a fragment so I will have to rewrite it for you tonight if I get time.

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I'm writing a love scene for the first time and I've got no idea what to do. Help.

gonna need a little more context than that

Okay, er, she's the active participant and at the moment it's just some making out and heavy petting. Is that any better?

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Read a ton of romance and erotica books.

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"I can be your girlfriend dear man, I know heartwarming romantic stories, I like long romantic walks in the beach or park and I'm in to soft and tender loving. I also don't mind if the love making we do involves me being in the bottom and you on top..." Said the Blue Lady.

"Nah! Forget that wimp! I like butched men's stuff like you do darling! I like offroad driving, watching fast cars race, I love playing videogames like you do, and I'm into the more 'masculine' things you men do and don't mind. And I'm into more kinky shit than that Ms. Blue here, hehehehe!" Said the Red Woman with arrogance and pride. "So which one handsome? Me?" Asked the Red Woman.

"...Or, me?" The Blue Lady asked with a bit of shyness.

"No." The man bluntly answered, "I'm not looking for a relationship right now, and sorry but I'm more into regular human women of my same species. So please leave me now so that I can go shooting with my friends." The man said simply as he walked out with his legally owned firearm.

And so ends the tragic tale of two beautiful magical women getting the case of "Blue Balls" and being "Friendzoned."

The End.

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Is there an etiquette on these threads regarding length of story you are requesting anons to review? I'd like to post some of my stuff here, but most exerpts are either too difficult to understand without context or a self containdish thing that runs about 7000 words, Id feel rather rude dropping that in a thread that seems mostly about reviewing spontaniously inspired 2000 character posts (which i find very impressive, ive never been good at being concise).

does this answer your question? This story is from the last thread and it's 8500 words long, and we've had ones much longer in previous threads

multiple post stories are fine. The only reason we seem to have a lot of 2000 character one-offs is because writing takes a long time.

just be aware that the longer something is, the less people are likely to read it.

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This would be touching if they weren't riding giant bananas.

Earth was invaded by an extra-dimensional enemy. However, with superior strategy and tactics and our sheer tenacity we were able to push back the invasion and even advance through their own portal and establish a beachhead in their dimension from which to launch a counterattack.

It was at this point that we discovered that the invasion was the result of a much larger conflict spilling over into our realm. We ally with the invader's enemies to jointly take down the common foe.

On a scale from "ok" to "bullshit" how would you rate this twist:

>the commander who has been running the city for the last 23 years has actually been dead for 10 years
>she was found dead in her own chambers, most likely killed by an epileptic seizure that made her fall and break her neck
>since the only thing holding the warring factions of the city together in those times was the commander's name and power, her sister was forced to feign death and assume her name and position
>that sister is gradually breaking down under the pressure to the point where it starts showing

That concept is neat all on its own. If you're writing don't even 'twist' it, play it straight and tell us the story of the struggling sister. If this is for a game, well, I can't imagine a better motivation for PC's than being her most trusted advisers trying to hold everything together while she slowly goes more insane.

Literally Half-Life?

That's actually a better idea!

I suppose, although I didn't have that in mind. And it was in reference to the linked image of course.

hey

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Unless you're like me and compulsively read everything in these threads.

It's really the one reason I visit Veeky Forums

It's San Diego, 2021.
There's a breakthrough in science that allowed them to resurrect a Tyrannosaurus Rex from its fossilized components. The scientists were planning to go Jurassic Park with the whole idea; resurrect a few dozen more dinos, put them in an isolated island and charge out the ass so that tourists can come up close and personal with them.

That dream slightly got set off course when somebody accidentally got a hold of Chow Yun Fat's blood and transfused it into the T. Rex's bloodstream. Surprisingly, it wasn't even noticed. Even more shockingly, it gained the shocking acrobatic prowess of the Chinese action star. Within a week, the behemoth was already capable of leaping a distance exceeding its length. This was met with talks about using it for an acrobatics show.

Then came the development of dexterity. From there, every dream went wrong.
All it took was the negligence of one guard. One Tec 9 left on the floor of the pen. Within a matter of hours, the four-fingered king of the dinosaurs mastered the deadliest weapon known to man: the gun. With this weapon came supremacy. Prey no longer became an issue when they could easily be shot to death and then eaten, bullets and all.
That gun gave the Tyrannosaur freedom from that caged island, and it fled back to the mainland US from the back of a panicking tanker. In this new concrete jungle, a landmass thousands of years beyond its reach, a beast had to learn more than just brutality in order to survive. Good thing that the LA Underground was full of gangbangers to master the art of deception and patient hunting from. Once it came to attack, there was nothing on this side of the Cretaceous Period that could match such a gun-toting monstrosity.

It took a little longer before it learned speech. Thankfully, this new world had little boxes with people to practice talking with. Small, delicious-looking people. Within months, it was already capable of speaking about as well as anyone else.

In that time, it also learned of the concept of justice, doing the right thing at any cost. Sure, it was marred by the machismo of watching countless 1980's action shows and films like the A-Team and Bloodsport, but it was far more than it was supposed to know. So the dinosaur decided to take a name: The Toting Tyrannosaurus. With that name, it became a vigilante, setting off each night to eat evil. Whether by gun or by tooth, it would seek out any injustice and right it.

But it was not the only dinosaur to exceed its natural limits. Once word spread, other scientists began infusing dinosaurs with the genes of action stars: A Pachycephalosaurus with the martial arts skills of JCVD, a Parasaurolphus who learned improvised combat from Jackie Chan, a Velociraptor with kicks so deadly people could have sworn that it learned from Chuck Norris himself.
It was perhaps inevitable that these Action Dinosaurs would one day meet, whether as allies or as foes. In either case, the Toting Tyrannosaurus could only think of one thing: Survival. The coming battles would push its prowess to the limit, and it would have to prove its worth...as king of the Action Dinosaurs.

I don't have much actual writing, just outlines and notes. Could I still get some feedback?

yaya, gibe!

Not mine but I wanted to share
For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

The day I stepped on a nail was the worst day of my life.

We were playing in outside. Somehow, just somehow, it was protruding from the ground.

I screamed.
Then came an onslaught of infection, surgeries, amputation, atrophy, innumerable doctor and therapists, bedstays, quarantines... friends left, family died off...

I did what anyone would do after years and years of focused determination to overturn these events.

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I built a time machine.

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After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.

I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.

I just stood there.

I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It was not there.

I grabbed a nail from the barn, hobbled while they were gone, and stuck it upwards in the soil. And warped away.

I stepped back from the jump and planted my cane to set myself.

While I do not walk the space of this universe, I walk time. That nail was my first step.

Time is fixed.

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After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.

I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.

I just stood there.

I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It taunted me with it's rusty shine.

I yanked it from the mud, hobbled while they were gone, and dropped in by the barn. And warped away.

I stepped back from the jump. No cane. My leg is back.

I will walk to right the wrongs of the past, present, future.

Time is plastic.

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After a jump to the left, a step to the right, and madness after the warp, and almost falling a down, I dropped into our old family barn. I heard the children playing and laughing. Me.

I thought. And thought. I leaned onto my cane. The crutch of my existence.

I just stood there.

I glanced at the place where the nail was supposed to be. It taunted me with it's rusty shine.

I saw myself yank it from the mud, hobble while they were gone, and drop in by the barn. And warped away.

But if I saw myself here, is there more than one line of time?

I slide to each universe, looking for my equivalent selves, wishing their time and observing their sadness and happiness. That time when I stepped on and stepped back from the nail.

Time is parallel.

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And on and on and on...

Hey, it's all good mayne.

Ok here's what I got so far
docs.google.com/document/d/1SzDtJ9l4bffx3aGNpFL6eRqjbLHThVtDzHq4juta_D0/edit?usp=sharing
Sci fi story ideas. Warning its not very organized
docs.google.com/document/d/1U9In4OtTXC0b1Zn1EeUcGfDajSQr-svcCFNv6kAYqPU/edit?usp=sharing
And this is a science-fantasy inspired by Bionicle in the wake of it being cancelled a second time.

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TOO SOON user

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Where is everybody? post your writing or complain about others shit

I want more erotic stories but...

The only thing I wish to complain about is the internal rage that some clickbait video on facebook is telling retards that their worthless pokemon card collection is worth multiple thousands of dollars, and that somehow a starter deck machamp from first gen is worth $950.

Like it's actually disgusting how much misleading misinformation they are giving out for the sake of views and ad revenue while tricking normies into having shitfits at LGS places that they actually think they have a gold mine when everyone will tell them to piss off and that no one wants their garbage.

>introduce character as "newborn SON of X, their only biological child"
>timeskip
>return to character as "Y, DAUGHTER of X" with context clues to identify them as that same character

will readers get what I mean or do I have to spend an extra paragraph hitting them over the nose with it?

I have 3 erotic short stories started, but I can't bring myself to actually write the sex out.

Problems with on how to write it realistically or you just don't know? Not sure if this will help but it sounds good.
Warning: it was for the write thread on /y/

>You don't need to write a lot in one sitting
I actually find that it gets a lot easier to write the longer I'm at it. Once I stop it takes a while to get up to speed again, but once I'm there momentum can keep me going for hours.

It is really different for everyone. You just need to find that sweet spot.

Heyo.

I'm that git who decided to write two (three if you count the in-verse journal) stories about a gaslight Gensokyo, otherwise known as Gainesborough. I'd been planning to write something for here, but it's quickly proving to be so colossal that I'm doubting that it'd be a good idea to flood the entire thread with my crap. Also, I've kinda hit something of a wall as to whether or not I'm laying the pointless reference too thick.

So I might ass well pop this link here, see if anyone can give me ideas/criticism/comments to go run face first into a woodchipper.

docs.google.com/document/d/1iPbBU9V3_mwyBQLqOzIi3sGvCCty6pJ0kTURmuhZWsc/edit?usp=sharing

> I'm doubting that it'd be a good idea to flood the entire thread with my crap
I've always thought that the thread does better when it seems like people are here, and it the more people post the busier it feels. Of course, posting long stories can be a pain given the 2000 character limit, but you don't have to do it all at once. At the very least it keeps the thread bumped.

Also, I'm pretty sure people are more likely not to notice a story altogether when you just post a link rather than post it in the thread.

anyway, this is a thread for stories. Don't worry about 'flooding the thread' - your "crap" is exactly what this thread is here for.

this thing is twice the length of what you've written and I still posted it.

(I'll read your story in the morning, but right now I want to post something I've written and then go to bed)

Rain came down hard, laying down a blanket of water across the land. The clouds were so thick that the early afternoon was beginning to seem more like dusk.

Although, reflected Pardus, the feeling that night was fast approaching went well beyond the weather.

With a gloved hand he gripped the banner that he had borne these last few hundred miles, though wood and vale, over hill and lake. The banner of the running wolf. More fitting than ever, these days. In front of him rode Sir Faragen; if he wasn't the last loyal knight in all the kingdom then he might as well be, for all the use the others were. And the wolf, of course - Urdin, devoted to the house of Maridor as always.

And in front of them rode the prince and princess: the twins Jarron and Lienne, last scions of the house of Maridor. Jarron in his dark green riding robes, and Lienne in her hooded sky-blue cloak. Even in the face of the driving rain, they rode upright and proud. Pardus had steadily acquired more and more respect for their perseverance as they had crossed the wild and difficult terrain that lay between them and their destination.

Of course, they were fleeing from the people who had slaughtered their family - father, mother, aunts, uncles, cousins, everyone. That would be enough to spur anyone onwards. But, despite the fact that to Pardus' knowledge they had never left the capital, Ossia, for more than a day or two's hunting trip, they had dragged themselves through every muddy track and tangled forest without complaint and without slowing. They weren't yet out of their teens and they already had more endurance than many veteran soldiers Pardus had known.

>Title: "The Declaration of Surrendependence"

Six Months, all it took was six months for half of the entire continent of Eustran to be dominated and occupied by the human and elven forces of The Cedna Accord. The faction was named after the great Half Elf heroine; Cedna Zylric, who helped unite both the humans of the far west continent; Briastrin and the elves from the continent known as Chimax.

The whole conflict started when the Dragon Empress of Eustran, Dannya Faulkner declared war when representatives of the Cedna Accord offered the lands of Eustran to join the accord. It had to involve the empress having to split her lands and resources among the foreign forces which the Dragon Empress did not take kindly to. Up to now officials of the Cedna Accord insist that the empress was the one who provoked hostile actions and threatened the peaceful envoys, but alas it all lead to war and the Dragon Empress was not alone and there was a good reason why Dannya Faulkner is called that.

House Faulkner have been renowned as Eustran's greatest dragon tamers who have mastered the art for generations and have used the mighty beasts as not only pets, but as fearsome war machines. It pretty much made sense as to how the continent of Eustran and its other kingdoms have been ruled under House Faulkner for many decades and nearly two centuries. And there was also the other three Great Houses who were all absolutely loyal and have crushed rebellions and uprisings in the name of the Faulkners: House Redman, House Waller and House Bannister. And when the Dragon Empress beated the drums of war against the Cedna Accord, all her loyal subjects and the three Great Houses heeded her call. But that unfortunately that will be the last of the Faulkner Dynasty.

>to be continued

Pardus had known a lot of soldiers in his time. He was no knight, though, just a man-at-arms who'd fought his share of battles, and then settled down into what he thought would be retirement as a Palace Guard. Wasn't that the joke about the Palace Guard? The king gathered the best fighters in the land and then put them in a place where they'd never have to do any actual fighting.

Some joke that turned out to be. Pardus and his five friends, fellow guardsmen, had been able to hear the commotion in the distance as they neared Ossia that fateful night. They'd been given as an honour guard to escort some puffed up noble with royal favour to the docks at Beacon's Rest, a city some fifty miles distant. That was why, instead of being in the palace that night when the traitors let down the gates for the Barons' men and began the slaughter, they were still four miles out on the road into the city. They'd sampled beer from every tavern between the port and the capital, and were looking forward to nice warm beds and nice cold beer in the palace that night when they noticed that there was a commotion in the distance. Some riot or something, they'd thought. It wasn't unheard of. No point in hurrying, if the city watch couldn't handle things their fellow guards would have it dealt with before they passed under the arch of the the Wolfshead Gate.

That was why, instead of having their throats cut while they slept like the majority of the rest of the Palace Guard, they had been there to see five riders and a wolf coming up the road towards them, racing down it as if hell itself was on their heels. That was when Gordal, a longtime comrade of Pardus' had decided he wanted some answers and moved his horse to block the road.

Pardus didn't know what answer Gordy had been expecting when he called out 'Halt, in the name of the King.' But it certainly hadn't been:

'Stand to, in the name of the Prince and Princess.'

Pardus had recognised the royal children as soon as they lowered their hoods, and at that moment a deep, dark pit began to open up inside his stomach. When Gordy had said, with the same dread in his voice: 'What's happening?' Sir Faragen had only to say one word:

'Treason.' And that was enough.

Sir Faragen had filled them in quickly. He, and six other knights who'd been staying in the east wing, had woken to the sounds of battle running down the palace corridors. They'd stumbled out in half-strapped-on armour to find the palace already awash with blood, servants and guards alike butchered all together. Their first thought was to head for the king's chambers, and they manage to surprise a few attackers who weren't expecting armed resistance. However, fortunately for them before they'd got very far they ran into the prince and princess, and decided to get them to safety rather than head further into the fight. As it was, they barely made it out of the palace - four of the knights were cut down by the infiltrators as they fought their way to the stables. The remaining three knights and the royal children fled on horseback - along with the twins' pet wolf Urdin, who was kept in the stables along with the rest of the royal pack. They set the other wolves free - perhaps a few of the traitors in the palace that night found that the House of Maridor still had some teeth left.

They also took a royal banner.

They were all sure that the king was dead, along with most of his guard - the only reason they had managed to escaped was because the traitors had concentrated their attack on the royal apartments and the main barracks. As it turned out though, the term escape was an exaggeration. Pardus was the first to see the them, by the light of the flaming torches they carried. Black horses in the night, bearing down on them. If Pardus and his friends had ridden off right then and left the prince and princess to their fate, they would have lived.