Author Topic: The Master, and the Art.  (Read 2757 times)

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Offline Massacre

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The Master, and the Art.
« on: May 16, 2005, 01:06:45 PM »
"I hope im chosen!" said Olan "He's so intense!" Olan was a boy of 14. He was well built, but not exceptionally so. He carried a crystal white sword, it was like a big deadly diamond. He wore a steel chestplate, with a jacket under it. The sleeves and tail could be seen, and he wore black pants with brown boots. He was at the ancient training grounds of the long forgotten Sergiki-an old race of fiece warriors. Only one was left among the broken race, and he was to train the one who completes his 'tests'. There were at least 150 people of all ages on the destroyed fields. He then looked to his friend and asked "how do you think youll do?"

[OOC] My friend can be one of you guys, it doesnt matter. I would like some one to take his place though. Please.