Chapter 14 Alternate Ending

“The men we sent to aid you said when they got there; the entire village was destroyed, still burning in a white fire. When they found you, you are standing over his body, your blade glowing a brilliant radiance while it was still plunged into that creature, and you unconscious still gripping the blade as if you’d die if you let go it,” explained High Marshal Macharius, as he strode from his sentinel position to the edge of Agernath’s bed.

In The Cold War: A New History, John L. Gaddis creates a thorough timeline of the events stretching from the end of World War II through the fall of the USSR which helps newer generations understand the gravity of the situation. As Michael Bechloss said “By 2006, Americans too young to have lived through the era of duck-and-cover drills require a scholar of extraordinary gifts to tell why nine presidents deployed our national treasure against an empire that broke apart so clumsily in the end.” This quote does an excellent job explaining how my generation and the ones following will have a limited understanding of the events surrounding the cold war and their role in shaping the world we know today. As Gaddis himself said in a NPR interview;

During World War II, the United States, Britain, and Russia all worked together to take down Hitler. Although after the war, the coordination between the U.S. and Russia became extremely tense which inevitably lead to the Cold War. The U.S. was worried that Russia would spread communism after World War II. Russia was concerned with the U.S. arms increase and intervention in international affairs. The distrust between the two nations resulted in the Cold war which lasted until 1991.

I realized the centaur was using magic, commanding, an enchanted mirror to appear and burned in front of me—shiny and bright like a miniature sun. The glass revealed where the Staff of Sirethiel had been hidden and the path I was to take to seize it back and save the

return. Therefore, she mentioned a girdle to Gawain it protect the person who wears it death. So

From the nearby foliage, Ulrich heard a whisper of foreign words. The last time he heard a strange language, he’d lost his arm moments later. Terrified, he drew his sword, an undercurrent of fear seizing him; he’d never fought one-armed before.

He ducked as I slid my sword across the air. The magnificent beast I was welding was begging to slice into someone and drink their iron rich blood. The Willowan man is twice the size of me and much stronger, but I am much more fast and nimble. He attacks me, aiming for me left side. I step aside and slash my sword through his last rib. His face turns blank and he falls to his knees. As I walk away I hear his blood gurgle in his mouth. He was wrong to think that he could possibly beat me.

The sound of blades colliding echoes through the dark caverns. Monstrous shrieks of pain and deafening battle cries all combine to create the sound of the battle. A lone adventurer stands stalwart in the face of evil, parrying blows and returning with lightning speed to end even the stoutest of enemies. He continues to fight even though he is clearly outnumbered. His valiant hold of his position forges fear in the very souls of some of his opponents, but not all are so easily disheartened. The forces of darkness continued to rise against the single man, and he fought as hard as he could and it seemed he could go on forever. Suddenly he is struck from behind, and while not falling there, he is severely weakened. Severing

In the year 3000 A.D there is no civilization. Earth has been decimated by a terrible nuclear war and man is extinct. In their last months on earth, humankind built thousands of fallout shelters. In these shelters were cryo stasis tubes that would keep the residents asleep until the day came when earth could be inhabited.

"Breach the walls!" yelled and unknow soldier as yet another volley of poisened orkish arrows descended on the ranks of the holy vanguard lead by the dreadknight Lustrous Von Clantior, the ranks of the vangurad were men of tested skill and temperement and luckily so as theirs was a nigh on impossible

The silence ate at his sanity as he sat in the darkest part of the house, alone; waiting, hoping, praying for the danger to pass. Henry didn't dare move. He remained still, sitting there for hours upon hours waiting for the all clear. It had been so painfully long, he wasn't sure if it was ever coming. For all he knew, this could be the real deal. The nuclear weapons could be soaring through the air right at this very second, and in minutes he could be dead from impact, and even if he managed to survive the blast, the radiation from the bomb would certainly kill him. And worst of all, he had no idea. But he wasn’t scared. No. For fifteen years of his life, he’d gone through these drills, and never once was a bomb launched. But this time, something

Warryn, sensing he is losing time, desperately lunges at the giants legs to try and slow him down. Sigorn sidesteps the attack, and with a thunderous crack, he brings his sword down and smashes it into Warryn's armor. The armor bends and his arm contorts in an unbelievable

Time needed to slow down. Porter needed to process all the stimuli bombarding him and having Tiger criticize him at every turn was not helping. Their voice was starting to piss him off. Hot passion bubbled up in him, burning to get into a petty fight in the middle of a situation that couldn’t get any worse. It could, Porter knew, but he would die before that happened.

The sound went on and on and on, until it seemed it would never die. People were running and others were screaming commands. I watched patiently. Men were donning their armour, buckling sword belts, reaching for swords and other weapons. “Blood, blood, and more blood. It’s the way of life now, is it not?” Gregor asked. I didn’t have an answer for it. Instead I gripped my own blade. The grip was made out of a deep red wood. The leather wrapped around it fitted into the grooves of the handle. The cross guard was made out of near solid gold. In the center of the cross guard was shaped to be the head of a cross and sprouting out on either side of it was two leaves. The blade was made out of stygian steel. The blade was incredibly light and was

It turned to scrutinize her, "What do you know of honor little thief? The last we met you had stolen off with a sack of emeralds! Mine is intact, I am merely preparing a well deserved meal."