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 Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2006 10:04 am
Once upon a time, in a world where everything seemed a little strange, there was a very quiet old man. Now, this man wasn't weak or feeble, he just did not like to be placed at the center of attention. Perhaps this was because secretly he was really the world's most powerful Mage. However, he didn't become what he is now by allowing people to know his true identity. After all, that would simply be foolish.
This story really begins with a girl and her small, invisible pet carrot stick named Spunky. Both this girl and her transparent orange friend were in serious need of some extremely rare cherry peels that would, unbeknownst to them, ultimately lead them to all of the most fearsome and troublesome giants of the entire realm of light.
This girl, whose name is as melodious as the trill of a meadowlark in spring, even when it is ill, had her own talent. Her mother told her, when she was only knee-high to an inchworm, that she must never fall asleep near an orange lake or a singing pine cone. However, her mother never told her about the danger that would happen if she got close to an orange lake or a singing pine cone, and so she didn't heed her mother's warning.
When she found a hidden path behind the tool shed of her cousin's uncle's sister's father,
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Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 1:54 pm
Once upon a time, in a world where everything seemed a little strange, there was a very quiet old man. Now, this man wasn't weak or feeble, he just did not like to be placed at the center of attention. Perhaps this was because secretly he was really the world's most powerful Mage. However, he didn't become what he is now by allowing people to know his true identity. After all, that would simply be foolish.
This story really begins with a girl and her small, invisible pet carrot stick named Spunky. Both this girl and her transparent orange friend were in serious need of some extremely rare cherry peels that would, unbeknownst to them, ultimately lead them to all of the most fearsome and troublesome giants of the entire realm of light.
This girl, whose name is as melodious as the trill of a meadowlark in spring, even when it is ill, had her own talent. Her mother told her, when she was only knee-high to an inchworm, that she must never fall asleep near an orange lake or a singing pine cone. However, her mother never told her about the danger that would happen if she got close to an orange lake or a singing pine cone, and so she didn't heed her mother's warning.
When she found a hidden path behind the tool shed of her cousin's uncle's sister's father, previously obscured by a
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