A trial of light...

[Z3R0]

On the south end of Avalon, a city doth rest,
In it waits a Knight, donning a metal vest.
Upon his back is a long, deep, black cape,
Which in times of despair does conceal his true shape.
He wields two swords made of the purest silver,
And watches a young man drink from the nearest river.
Bearing the mark of his Patron upon his breast,
The very sight of the stranger this Knight doth detest.
In a loud, powerful voice the Knight calls,
“I suggest you make you way back over the falls.”
“For there is nothing here for you but death,
And I assure you, I will take thy last breath.”
Upon the challenge, a fight did follow,
And as he charged, the Knight did bellow:
“Come you, and stand against my might,
For my blades strike true, driven by noble light.”
As the two fighters clashed, and fought, and struggled,
The knight made prayer and his efforts did double.
The stranger, cloaked in cape and mask,
Could not withstand, and could not help but gasp.
As his foe dropped to knees before him,
The knight smiled and put a blade under his chin.
“Thou hath been tried, and found to be wanting,
And now look where you are, after all your daunting,
But fear not, for I do contain much mercy,
And frankly after this trial, I find my self thirsty.
Your life for a drink, from the river over there.
Take this goblet, and fill it with care.”
And as the young adventurer went forth to the river,
A nearby Bandit pulled an arrow from his quiver.
With bow strung and arrow pulled back,
He found his target in the middle of the Knights back.
With a *twang* and a * thump*, the arrow struck true,
And blood flowed forth, staining the tunic, through and through.
With a start and a fumble, the young man drew a dagger,
And held it high, even though his arm did swagger.
The bandit took his time, and stalked about the boy,
Sneering and smirking, as if playing with a toy.
Yet, as the bandit turned his head towards a nearby noise,
The boy stood straight, assuming a steady pose.
With a reared back arm, and at careful placed aim,
The dagger took flight, and the Bandit winced in pain.
Even before the bow could be raised, the boy took stride,
And gripped the fallen long sword, swelling with pride.
Hefting the sword, high above his head,
The young boy drove a blow, and struck the bandit dead.
As he stood there panting, resting on the sword,
He looked back sorrowfully, at the fallen Lord.
Thus he took up his equipment and headed south,
To the Mercinaen river gate mouth.

[Pamela]

Did you write that?

[Metalhead Steve]

It was really exciting and had good rhyme scheme. Although I thought the end was quite anti-climactic. Good writing though.

[Z3R0]

Did you write that?

Well of course. You know me and poetry just.....work. :P

I was thinking of this game I play where the cities fight each other and what not. It took maybe ten minutes is all.

[Pamela]

Well the story is very good. Also it sounds like Dynamis and Besieged in FFXI.

[Z3R0]

Thank you. I am thinking of getting back into my writing routine so there might be more to come.

[Pamela]

Really my only suggestion is to break it up into paragraphs. Otherwise a very nice work. I would try submiting it for publication.