Rebecca De Noon

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Tamara: Rise of the Night Claws

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A loud peal of thunder boomed, alarming the kingdom of its attack . Dark begun to roll as a small draft rain came from some where. The guards all occupied their post despite the the brutal dispute of the storm. Eight men surrounded the building, two at the large entrance of gate, and the others around the terrace on the opposite sides.

The prison was large, with four tall towers that stood aloft. Each being occupied by a watchman at the top, all very alert and prepared for almost any sense of danger.

A few men were still training out on the dark fields enduring the cold and onerous conditions, all wearing loose trousers and a vest. The guards took the duties profoundly. Their cycle was to strictly arouse by dawn, begin their daily instruction immediately after breakfast and was then rested when the sun left the heavens and the moon took its place.

Peyton, their overseer, found this action becoming. He assured the king that the more his men was put to work, the stronger is army would grow.

The rain crashed at their warm bodies, their clothing clinging to them. The dark skies roared again as the cries of the men soon were interrupted. Peyton ordered them to head back to the barracks. He himself made his way back their, following behind the both tread-bared and relieved soldiers.

Bluntly after, the meadows were clear and the storm was calm again as if it was angry with the countless sins of the men.

Their was a sudden movement in the bushes that hurled across the near heath. One of the guards perceived it and fleetingly made ready his weapon. The object flickered around some more as it gated nearer. The young man stood reserved as he cracked back his gun. He was tortured to fire-off his gun, when the troublesome figure appeared to him as a white rabbit. Aware of what just happened, the young soldier smiled. He couldn't say which was more amusing. The fact that he was afraid of a harmless little creature or that their even are such such creatures in these parts. Instantly he lowered his weapon.

The other guard, with whom he shared his post, glanced over to where he stood and asked.

"What?"

"I thought I saw something."

He replied without exchanging his exotic stare.

The men started walking back and forth, as they previously did, exchange positions with one another. A few stars began appearing again, as the misty earth earth envied its beauty.

One of the archers whom secured one of the towers, grew weary. It was the middle of summer. surely there aren't any misdemeanors taking place-he thought. With that in mind he squared his shoulders, slugging against the cold hard wall unto the even solid ground. His lids sealed in hope for rest. Just then he heard a loud screech. His eyes flickered open in agitation. He could see the archer on the opposite post collapse. Alarmed, the young man stumbled to his stark feet. He then crouch and lurched over to the ambushed soldier, every step being more heart thrusting. He felt his neck, pulse. Although the man laid dead to the world, it seemed comforting that he was still alive. His hand then stumbled across a hard, wooden object. An arrow. Someone was trying to break in!

I have to alert the others!

The man glanced over the rough beam. A green mist paved the field and the entrance to the gates, which showed full presages of forced entry. The door was swung out into the dark field, there wasn't any forewarning of guards in the distance-

Cutting off his own thoughts, the mist began clearing up illustrated the once "lost guards" who laid below the gloom. His eye was soon caught on a dark human-like figure being escorted by two irregular creatures, relatively a troll and an dwarf. Vandele!

A weak sound coming from his near side had soon reached him. He spun on his heals instantly. Before he knew it, a sharp blade was pierced through his skin. He glared down at the sword then searched his saboteur's face once again.

"Traitor.''

He said between gasp.

He could soon fell the raw blade penetrate further through his guts, his bow falling refused by gravity. Dark blood sprawled from his bearded lips. Soon the sword was removed and his sight left with it. His body subsided as he said his last farewells to the world.

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