Writewights

[Blackboar]

Originally posted by Adrian Baggins
Man do you need a reality check Blackboar. That has been done before, needless to say that you don't know about it because it was a rotten story and didn't get past the editors.(my school had a contest and the two winning stories were one about your idea and one by me about lotr, mine didn't get published either though it almost did). When will people ever learn that we need to get to know one another better? Sheesh.

Thats been done before!!
I'm sure mine will be a lot better and..oh what the hell

*Gets a piece of paper and tries to think of an idea for another story.*

[Lubyla]

ok, I'll post my story, weather you like it or not, post your opinion.It is a fan fic, so yeah, enjoy...I hope.:

I sat on one of the horses, looking out into the despair of Rohan, of how much it had changed. Many good men had been banished, many killed. Shaking my head, I went back to exersizing the horse. The king wanted 30 horses by sundown of the 7th night. Today was the 5th, and I had only gotten 17 trained. News of war spred through Rohan, many had already retreated to Helm's Deep. I could not, for I had to train the horses, it was who I was. At that point, four strangers passed by the field where I trained. One man, a dwarf, an elf, and a...an old man who I could not make out the face. They wore elvish cloaks, and rode Rohirrim horses, the old man on one of the greatest, Shadowfax.

The company stopped, as they knew i followed. I knew all of their horses, for I had trained them all, all but one, Shadowfax. He was the lord of all horses. The other two horses were Brego, and Arod. The man on Brego turned to face me. He spoke.

"What has become of Rohan?"

I hung my head, for the truth was very hard for me to tell. "Saruman the White is overruling the land. His blasted Uru-kai have been killing all in their path. Many a strong men have been killed, or banished.All of our best warriors are gone.Do not seek friendship here, for it is not as honoured."

"As we have herd" Said the man on Shadowfax. I now saw his face, and knew who he was.

"You are the Grey Pilgrim, or known here as Stormcrow. You are not as welcome here, for as I said, Saruman is the ruling hand, Theoden King but his puppit. Who are the others of you?"

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn"said the man on Brego, "And this is GImli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of Mirkwood. Who are you? It is odd that one so young would know so much of what is going on here."

I was amused at his "Young" coment. I looked young, but was much older than he would have thought. "I am Starletta of the Rain, trainer, groomer, and rider of Rohan, and I am not as old as you would like to think. What brings you here? Sureley we have not sent for any aid."

"War is come to Rohan, and I wish to give council to Theoden King. No, we were not sent for, but came, compleatly by chance."

I had to laugh,"Give council to the king?? When he has his beloved Wormtounge??? I shall ride with you, for I need to speek to Eowen." I started riding, now taking the lead. I heard the elf say, 'We are following a child!' And Gandalf had to reply'Things are not as they seem.'

Soon we got to where the king lived, and split paths. That was after getting dirty looks, and people running away from us. Doesn't surprise me, I've always been sort of an outcast, since the day I was hired to train the horses.
Soon we got to where the king lived, and split paths. That was after getting dirty looks, and people running away from us. Doesn't surprise me, I've always been sort of an outcast, since the day I was hired to train the horses.

"You will go strait, and to the gaurds. They will tell you to leave your weopons. Try to keep at least one on you, be it a dagger, or an arrow. Or your staff."I parted, and went on my way. Lady Eowen and I needed to talk. As I entered the dimly lit hall, there were two young travelers there, and their horse.

"You will go strait, and to the gaurds. They will tell you to leave your weopons. Try to keep at least one on you, be it a dagger, or an arrow. Or your staff."I parted, and went on my way. Lady Eowen and I needed to talk. As I entered the dimly lit hall, there were two young travelers there, and their horse.

"Greetings Lady Eowen. I bring news of travelers. Who are these young ones?"

"Greetings Starletta, it has been long.These two are the brave children who have come from Helm's Deep. To alret us. War is coming."

"War has come. You have seen it. There are four new travelers, who I think will be able to grant us aid, if Grima doesn't get his filthy hands on the matter."

"Where is Mama?"Said the young girl.

"Hush Freida, who are these new travelers, I think I saw them, though I only saw one. Are they friend?"

"Yes, I believe. It was Gandalf the Grey, Gimli son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood, and Aragorn son of Arathorn. They are friend to the Rohirrim. And hopefully, they can help us, if help is not beyond."

[Fred Baggins]

*does happy dance* Frieda's my character!

[Lubyla]

yup!

[Duddun]

I don't have time to read it all but what is this sight thing?
I'm a writewight also. I'm still working on this story about a kid who wants to be a bard and his home land is at war. I'm hoping I can get it published someday!

I will read your story when I can Lubyla. But right now I don't have time. Maybe soon I will post mine. It may take more than one post though. And I'm not done so it will be a few weeks. Mine is not about LotR though.

I finished yours Lubyla! Is that the whole story? Freida's the coolest! It is good.

[Lief Erikson]

Which page is it that you posted the theme of your story on, Starr Polish? The sections that you released of your story are interesting, and I'd be interested in knowing at least a very basic of what the story is about. About how long is it now?

[Starr Polish]

It's on page 2. The story in it's actual form isn't much longer than what I posted. I write bits of story and dialogue, then I stick in the rest as I go along. Hopefully when finished it will be of decent book length, at least but hopefully more than 150 pages.

[Duddun]

How many is it right now??

[Lief Erikson]

Originally posted by Starr Polish
It's on page 2. The story in it's actual form isn't much longer than what I posted. I write bits of story and dialogue, then I stick in the rest as I go along. Hopefully when finished it will be of decent book length, at least but hopefully more than 150 pages.

That's funny. When I was a lot younger, I used to wish for length for my stories. I got my wish, tenfold. Now I have a lot of trouble writing a book or story that doesn't end up novel length .

[Adrian Baggins]

I am posting excerpts from my story Winds Of Change, which I believe will be only one book but I might have to make it two.

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It was a nice cool night during the month of Halimath (September), and Adrian Baggins, Frodo's sister, was lying down outside of Bag End watching the stars. All of a sudden she bolted upright at a slight change in the smell of the wind. She had smelled this before, in Rivendell and Lothlorien. It was the smell that ment things were fixing to change for the better. It might be a drastic change or just something small, but either way something would change. She heard a low humming noise. The hum was something Frodo used to hum on bright June days while they would sit in the woods reading their books. The humming got louder and clearer until it seemed that Frodo were standing right beside her. She started to sing the words she had sung every time he had hummed this tune. When the humming stopped she turned around just as a voice that sounded like Frodo's said,"Well I'm back Adrian, do you know were my pipe is, and where is Sam?"
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I can't post anything from chapter two because it is too plot revealing.This next part is from chapter three __________________________________________________ __
Adrian started to run home and on her way there she ran into her friend Qwin. Qwin was an elf and this was the first time Adrian had seen her in The Shire. "Qwin, how are you?", Adrian asked. "Oh, what happened to you?", she added seeing a big gash on Qwin's beautiful face. Qwin was excedingly beautiful, past normal elven standards. This was because of her deep percing steel-blue eyes which were accents to her pale almost ghostly complection. Her complection was also complimented by he pink lips which reminded most people of rose petals. Her hair was a bright golden color which shone in the morning sunlight. The gash which was freely bleeding did nothing to take away from her features. "I don't know how I got it or how I got here," she told Adrian as they walked to Bag End, "All I know is that I was running away from my uncle (Eleiador) and was attacked by wolves, then I was knocked out. When I woke up I was here." Once they reached Bag End Adrian took her inside and put her in her bed.
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This is from chapter 5 because 4 is too revealing.
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Adrian and Elijah where standing on a balcony stairing up at the stars. All of a sudden she passed out and fell off the balcony on which they were standing. "Adrian!" yelled Elijah as he reached out his hands to try to catch her but she slippped out of his grasp and fell to the ground "Noooooo!" he screamed as her free-fall from sixteen flights of stairs up from the ground increased in speed.
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All I got for now.

[samwiselvr2008]

Originally posted by Starr Polish
No one asked to see bits of my story (I posted the theme idea of it a few pages back), but I'll put up snippets of it anyway. I'm not shy.

Basically in order, though I left a lot of things out.

Wow! That was GREAT! I really liked it, I could see what I was reading SO well, it was so good! I wish that I could write that good! I think that the best authors have to be able to paint pictures for there readers, if not then they can't write good.

[Lubyla]

No, my story isn't done, thats just the start of it. *Hopps off to start todays exert*

[samwiselvr2008]

I need to work on my story, but I'm having my internet time right now (untill 9:00, it's 8:30 right now by me) and then at 10:00 a new TV show comes on, plus I have to work on homework (alot of homework, because I got a new science teacher, who said that he gives homework every time the sun rises ), so, I probally won't get a chance to work on it tonight, it might be a snow day tomorow though, and then I can work on it all I want, if I finish my home work tonight! I have nothing planned tomorow if it snows out, if it dosn't then I have school and Good News Club, and then home work ect. when I get home, so I can only hope that tomorow will be a snow day!

[gimli-son-of-gloin13]

I would have a story on the computer if I had any ideas! anyone got any? But actually I'm more of "typewight" cause i DO NOT like writing but I do luv typing

[Duddun]

Strange! Sometime, when I have time, I will read everything in this thread. Heres the beginning of my story. It won't all fit so I will only do as much as fits. Here it is:


Tom sat at home day dreaming. He was dreaming about being the greatest bard in the world, just like the Old Man, as people referred to him. The Old Man was magical; his music was like an enchantment. People would gather around him to hear him play. Then Tom came out of his daze to hear the beginning of what sounded like a very important council. Tom was a young man of tall stature who stood tall and proud all the time. Tom loved to read, especially nonfiction books on the history of the world. But now, as he listened in, he heard that they were talking about the war. A war had been going on for a while now. His father was the defense leader of the wall patrol. Tom and his mother had been allowed to stay at home in Silhofrun because their father was in the army. Most families had to go away to a safer city.
But Tom was hearing now that the city must be evacuated and all that were not in the forces would have to be moved to the mountains of Craighead, the last stronghold, for safety. Tom slumped in his chair. He did not want to leave his father. He now opened the book he had been reading, The Last Harp of Magic. It was supposed to be nonfiction, but he didn't believe it. It was about the harps of magic, and mainly the story of the last one left in the land. That night he fell asleep imagining how great a bard he would be if he was plucking the strings of the harp of magic.
In the morning, he heard the final orders for all families to go to the mountains of Craighead. The orders were very clear that if you were not a doctor or an armed man, you had to go to the mountains. Tom was to be in the first group to leave, along with his mother. The groups were to start going the next morning.
But that day at noon, Silhofrun was besieged. His father marched out in the first line of defense. His father was highly respected in the city, and many people followed him out. Tom found this a good time to sneak away, because his mom had been called to help in the healing of injured men. Tom readied a horse in the stables and packed himself all the food his horse could carry. He also got himself the sword his father had given him when he was young. Then Tom slowly left on his horse, using the one way the enemies had not reached yet. He rode slowly, thinking about his poor parents. He hoped they would know he was safe when they noticed he was gone.
He could not go far that day. He was weary before he left the borders of Silhofrun but did not stop until safely away from the city. When he camped for the night, he was still two days from the head of the river he wanted to reach. He was cold that night. He had only brought a small blanket and his cloak to keep him warm. He could've hardly slept anyway, because when he did get to sleep he did not sleep long and it was uneasy. He was thinking about his parents, his father in the war and his mother going to the mountains. When he rose to the sun shining in his eyes, he was tired still but decided to journey on.
He went fast that day, with pressing spirits. His spirits had been lifted by the good weather and the thought of the harp again. Near the middle of the day, though, he had taken the reason for his journey off his mind and was not as urged to continue. He also was not sure he was going the right way. He had looked at a few maps before he left of the area around Silhofrun. He did not trust that they would lead him correctly. By midday he had reached the end of the foothills he had been in. He had never been very far up them, but Silhofrun was founded on the foothills.
At about two Tom's fear arose, because he heard sounds of marching nearing him. Soon it was unmistakable though, it sounded like a band of goblins looking for some food. Tom feared he would have to lose some mileage trying to stay away from them. They were closer than he had expected though and came into sight soon. He heard a horn blow and an answer to it. He leapt into the bushes as fast as he could, but he saw scouts closing up on the other side of the bushes. He drew his sword, and it gleamed in the sunlight. The goblins saw the blade, and fear struck their hearts. It was a blade stolen from them years ago, one the goblins considered stronger than any. They fled immediately back to the band of goblins, and soon he saw them all running.
He continued on with less fear then ever, knowing his sword was greater than he had thought. Nightfall came, but he only stopped to fill his stomach and continued. He was eager to get to the harp. No doubt was in him that he would get there by the end of the day that would come at sunrise.


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That is all that would fit.

[Elenka]

I wish I could add something, but my former story went ^Boink.^

Oh well. Must get to work on new story.

[Silverstripe]

Well, "Writewraiths in Middle Earth" has come to a conclusion, and Writewraiths in Middle Earth II: The Kingdom Rebuilt, is just beginning! All of our interested Writewraiths can join WME II.

Also, gimli-son-of-gloin13: typing's just writing on the computer, and it counts, too!

[Silverstripe]

Oh -- I should probably say that knowing what happened in Writewraiths in Middle Earth should not be necessary in order to enjoy being part of "The Kingdom Rebuilt."

[Rûdhaglarien]

I've never been able to write anything even slightly decent. But... lately, I haven't been able to write anything. Decent, or otherwise.

[Silverstripe]

Hmmmm. Do you have writer's block? That's no fun.