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Writing Sample from theProse

  Writing Sample from the Prose The following was written for a writing challenge on theprose.com. The prompt was as follows: Grey Wall  Check out the original over at  Grey Wall . Grey Wall Towering over everything was the Grey Wall. For a thousand generations the Grey Wall had separated the worlds, looming above each in silent threat of what lay on the other side. Looming in the heart of the unchosen. No being had every crossed the Wall. No human would try for the abject terror it brought the imagination. Even the birds, circling and wheeling about the azure sky would not cross the line of demarcation. The Wall meant safety and the Wall meant death. Zenyassa did not care for safety and she did not fear death. She was Unchosen. What did it matter? What was life without the risk of losing it? She could not feel alive sitting before a thatch hut milling grain while the men of her village hunted wild yissana beasts. Their hunt brought them adventures and risk for the great ...
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The Warrior Stands

 

The Warrior Stands


The Warrior stands upon the field of battle, naked of any conscience and girded in blooded leather and notched steel. Wind blows around him, tugging at his cloak like an insistent child pulling their parent to the object of their short-lived attention. Yet the Warrior’s attention does not waver. His steel blue eyes remain fixed ahead, unwavering as he watches the iron tide roll forward.

Flakes of glimmering white drift in the air about him, swirling with the gusts. Their delicate crystalline countenance shattering upon his helm and upon his cloak. The air would be frigid but for the fire in his heart. A burning flame of vengeance that shields him from all else but that solitary goal.

Vengeance.

A thing sweeter than the ripest fruit. A thing long sought after by the Warrior.

A thing finally near at hand.

His enemies have come, flowing across the field in the hundreds, heedless on their approach, defiling the sacred ground with their filth. They are clumsy and overconfident in their numbers.

The Warrior is ready for them, blade in hand and brothers behind.

The world around him is silent, holding its breath for the clash to come. The calm before the storm.

Against the wall of gnashing teeth and bloody iron, the Warrior stands. 



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