o.o.c. this is what resulted of a conversation with Leinad Romethe. while reading, keep in mind that this is based off of a forum gaming ideal. any reference to 'gods' is fictional with the intent of being humorous. The five deities of Arpag sat at the Great Table. They were about to set forth a new world. The god Kenline spoke: "Friends, we do here set about a new world. We have decided to take turns creating species and tribes. "As it was I who initiated this, it shall be I who do create first character.

(This poem tells a story of a girl who works as a slave at a wealthy but evil household. They make her life a living hell. So she decides to escape, but not before taking her revenge. The "silver cage" refers to her environment. Beautiful house, gorgeous garden, amazing art on the walls and all that jazz. But she is dying to escape.)

As the ivory white tiles glowed
The cashmere curtains fluttered
In the ghastly winter wind that blew
The fragile maids' teeth chattered

May 17, 1793.
Log Entry 1

The winds were cold
From over mountains old
Where whistling stones were thrown
To rack the trees in forests dark

Moths were biting in the light
Of torches’ fire in the stark
When night was high upon the gale
White breath blowing in the hills

Shadows lay on backs of trees
Wither then many spread
and crossed the crooked stones
Which marked the winding road

intro ambience...

bass beat in a steady groove.

makes everybody in the club want to move.

chipstep is a wonderful sound, with a

bass so hard that it shakes the ground

party suddenly filled with robots

music slowly getting more like

sound is building, cymbal filling the

silence spilling from the speakers.

drums kick in on a simple beat.

just enough to make you move your feet.

the sound spills into the street.

making everyone who hears start dancing.

A dark city
Where a stream of dreams
Have come passing through
To give you the dream of the gulls
And the heartbeat of the waves

No song is murmured here
Nor dream stayed and lingered
There is a wind which carries them away
Like the wings of a raven

Your thoughts are not spoken
And silence leaves you wondering
Wondering of a boat and an oar
All of timber and strings

*A/N* Inspired by the song The Enemy by Mumford and Sons (my current favorite song ever) the link to it (everybody should listen!) is here: http://www.mumfordandsons.com//news/listen-to-the-enemy-for-wuthering-heights This particular storyish-type-thing is very muddled, unclear, and grammatically incorrect. It's basically a stream of emotions from a borderline- insane/dying man who is hallucinating about a mistake he made involving a woman he loved. I hope everyone is able to enjoy it!

She moves across the sky,

silken sails billowing with light

          bright ivory next to midnight.

Stars all around,

dancing though the dark

          life radiating from each little spark.

Mysteries revealed,

if just for a while

          hiding within the Moon's secret smile.

Chapter Seventeen

We both looked through the gate once more. The street was still empty behind us.

“How long will it take to cross the mountains to this side of the City, if we are on the other?” I asked. He answered me slowly:

“Two days if we do not halt and keep a running pace.” I shook my head. I did not think we could spare that much time. Yet we were wasting it now. I looked away from everything, and pictured in my mind the course of the streets within Hethwenthor.