Grumble...

Okay... If there was one word to sum up how I feel right now, it'd be weary... It's not that anything bad is happening to get me feeling like this, I just feel as though I may be doing too much as of late and so am feeling drained as a result. This is kind of also why I've not posted anything for a few days, plus I'm still kinda struggling with this whole writer's block thing. But regardless, I'm gonna try and write something anyways, so here goes.


Tyree's grip loosened from his sword hilt. His vision was blurring and the obscuring opaqueness of blood running over his face trickled over his eyes. He shook his head clear and glanced at his armour. His chainmail was practically in tatters and his breastplate was dented and punctured in several places. He couldn't remember a time when he felt so much pain. Every movement, even the slightest flinch caused agony to race across his body.

He was surrounded. Tyree knew that he had to do something. He wouldn't be captured, not again! He crouched, allowed himself  a moment for his head to stop spinning and clear a little. He wiped the blood from his face with his scarf; his father always taught him that all the best heroes wore scarves... If he was to lead his people to freedom against the Reldanian Empire then he had to be a figure of inspiration, of bravery and of strength; it was his father's words in these times that comforted him. He grasped his sword once more and stood slowly, glancing at the horde of Reldanians now surrounding him, spears and swords readied to strike him down. His own forces were scattered or lay battered and broken on the ground around him.

He offered a short, silent prayer to his father's spirit for guidance and protection. If he was to die today, then he would die a hero's death and would live forever in the hearts and souls of those who would stand to carry on his legacy. With this in mind, Tyree was able to smile as he broke and ran into the awaiting wall of steel and malice before him. This was a day when legacies were forged, and when heroes were made. This was the day that started the brave revolution of the Free Nation of Galastia. This was the day where Tyree Hayde fell; where his sword struck the ground for the final time, and where it remained within the hearts of his people still to this day, so still they stand, and still they fight. This is their story.


So, something I might pick up when I can figure out if/what I want to do anything with it...

Adios,
Mr. Craiggy.