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Burzdol · 12-17-2003, 08:47 PM

Hethor stood with his sword in the snow, watching his master build his twentieth snoworc in an unused street that had houses on either sides. The little old man perfected each snow statue time after time. The tall Hethor wiped off his tan shirt and brown pants and got ready to attack.

"Now keep your blade at ready, don't let your guard down!" the old man ran up to the soldier.

"Okay, here it goes," Hethor's black hair flew back as he flung himself at the first snoworc. He stabbed and spun quickly to cut off its head.

"Nice form, nice form. Watch out for that one behind you," the little old man moved into a better position. As he went he scooped up a snowball and prepared to throw. As soom as he released, Hethore stuck his sword up in a defencive postiton, cutting the snowball in two.

"Nice try Master Gunhen!" the man kept slashing and turinig to cut.

"Ready fire!" Hethor heard his master say. He looked to the little old man, to see not only his teacher, but on the roofs were at least seven men. The Rohannian man turned around to see seven more men on the other rooftops. At the teacher's command, they all threw. Hethor dodged and parried, ducked and weaved, but still kept up his attack on the snoworcs. Soon, the man had destroyed every snow statue and turned his attention back to the snowballs.

"You throw like Master Gunhen!" he yelled to the rooftop men.

"I heard that, you ruffian!" he said, nailing the guy in Hethor in the head with a snowball. The man sheathed his sword and began to throw snowballs in retaliation.

An old women with grey hair walked out of a nearby house with a tray of steaming mugs. As she walked into the street, a snowball wizzed past her head, "Thenden Gunhen! If you hit me, you'll be living somewhere else! Now all you boys, come get some apple cider. All of the men on the rooftops jumped down and toof a mug. Hethor grabbed his own mug and rested beside a nearby house. Boy, life is good, he closed his eyes and sat back for a good rest.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:48 PM December 17, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

12-17-2003, 08:47 PM	#27
Burzdol Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: The Fair City of Rivendell Posts: 274	Hethor stood with his sword in the snow, watching his master build his twentieth snoworc in an unused street that had houses on either sides. The little old man perfected each snow statue time after time. The tall Hethor wiped off his tan shirt and brown pants and got ready to attack. "Now keep your blade at ready, don't let your guard down!" the old man ran up to the soldier. "Okay, here it goes," Hethor's black hair flew back as he flung himself at the first snoworc. He stabbed and spun quickly to cut off its head. "Nice form, nice form. Watch out for that one behind you," the little old man moved into a better position. As he went he scooped up a snowball and prepared to throw. As soom as he released, Hethore stuck his sword up in a defencive postiton, cutting the snowball in two. "Nice try Master Gunhen!" the man kept slashing and turinig to cut. "Ready fire!" Hethor heard his master say. He looked to the little old man, to see not only his teacher, but on the roofs were at least seven men. The Rohannian man turned around to see seven more men on the other rooftops. At the teacher's command, they all threw. Hethor dodged and parried, ducked and weaved, but still kept up his attack on the snoworcs. Soon, the man had destroyed every snow statue and turned his attention back to the snowballs. "You throw like Master Gunhen!" he yelled to the rooftop men. "I heard that, you ruffian!" he said, nailing the guy in Hethor in the head with a snowball. The man sheathed his sword and began to throw snowballs in retaliation. An old women with grey hair walked out of a nearby house with a tray of steaming mugs. As she walked into the street, a snowball wizzed past her head, "Thenden Gunhen! If you hit me, you'll be living somewhere else! Now all you boys, come get some apple cider. All of the men on the rooftops jumped down and toof a mug. Hethor grabbed his own mug and rested beside a nearby house. Boy, life is good, he closed his eyes and sat back for a good rest. <font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:48 PM December 17, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ] __________________ "Kill them all for all I care. You just keep that bow away from me!"