Hmm...maybe it's only on the Recovery Story I have writer's block...
The moment he had turned the fight into a match of stamina, Derren knew he would lose. Stumbling over loose stones, Derren tripped and fell. The drunken man weaved crazily over to him, and raised his saber, preparing to strike. Derren bit his lip, thinking. Suddenly, he pulled out his quill. "Stay back!", he shouted imperiously, though on the inside he was jittering with nerves. The man halted, if for a moment. "This quill you are seeing?", Derren said, waving it back and forth like a pendulum, "Forged it was by strongest of magicians, so sharp it be that reality cut itself upon it.". The man looked, uncertainty etched on his face. "You believe me not? Watch.", Derren said, and swipd the quill through the air. It was an elementary trick, really. A streak of ink floated in the air, suspended only barely by the little magic Derren knew. The drunken man watched with blood shot eyes as the ink flat into a disc, swirling perpetually. He reached out tentatively, but Derren cried, "Touch it not! Portal to unreality that is, touch you do, then die you will.". The man was now thoroughly cowed, though if he wasn't drunk, he would have seen through the illusion in an instant. Derren twirled the quill casually, making thin ink ribbons spout from its tip. "Over this weapon many wars have been fought. Still fight, do you wish?". Derren drew the quill back as if preparing to strike. At that, the man gave a scream lke a girl and ran away, careening wildly. It was a rather comical sight, watching him slam into every rock he passed. Derren sighed. Maybe a quiet life wasn't so bad after all.
by 
Subject: Re: Role-Playing Story 
