Prologue: The three Smilmarills were perfectly crafted recycling bins. They had been made by Smeanor, the best crafter of the Smelves. The Smelves were the cunning, speedy good guys. They were amazing archers that lived in Smumenor. The Smelves had fair skin, long hair and pointy ears. They were in an age of epicness, because of their amazing king, Smundriel. Smundriel was the bravest Smelf, but he was young, and rash, which would cause problems for him in the future. Anyways, the Smilmarills kept the world of Middle-Smearth working. The Smelves could recycle, so there was no garbage. The problem was that Smorgoth, Dark Lord of Garbage,and amazing military leader, desired the Smilmarills so he could finally be cleansed of his garbage …show more content…
He escaped and brought the bins to Smelkor. Smelkor rejoiced at the sight of the Smelves’ treasure and took them for his own, after he cleaved Smauron’s head off with an axe. Smorgoth took a troop of his Smorcs and went into hiding with them. That is where we begin... Chapter 1: When Smore-Face’s Face was eaten by a Smalrog: “Come on! This cannot be happening!” Smeanor shouted at the chief of the former Smilmarill guards, Smore-Face. “Alas! yet it is, and we must find a way to stop it.” “ But what are we going to do? It was Smauron who took them, and that means that he brought them to Smelkor, unless he is thinking of betraying him”, Smore-Face said woefully. “ They are lost.” “Be a man! There still is hope! I am almost certain Smauron attempted to betray his lord, but failed and was murdered! We must set out on a quest to save the Smilmarills.” “But...” “ No buts, me lad. Do not speak of this matter again! We will take it up at the next council of the Smelven Lords.” “I won’t be there!”, Smore-Face cried. “ Well, I will tell Smelrond of you in the hall of the lords. Do not be troubled!” And with that, Smeanor left Smore-Face in a dungeon, cold and all by himself. Smeanor ran up to Smelrond. “Sir, There is news to mourn because of. The Smilmarills are gone!” “What about the guards?” Smelrond wondered out loud. “Two are in captivity, along with their captain. They have been thrown in jail for not protecting the bins.” “Smundriel knows?” “Yes, Wise
"Samuel's father is with them. He should be able to help while we help fight those things. Come on," he told her, pulling out a pistol for her to take. She grabbed it, putting it in her front pocket. "We have to inform the force."
"Your father died in the great dragon war because of a rookie mistake. Don't make that same mistake." commanded the knight.
“Th-They should stand somewhere else if they don't want to get killed.” Marco responded. “But the minotaurs won't let us leave!”
Using only his intelligence and the weapons his body provided, his bare hands, he was able to defend and conquer, the monster, Grendel. In an attempt to avenge Grendel's death, his mother launches a revenge attack on Herot Hall. After her escape to the swamp, Beowulf pursues and is able to overcome and behead the she-wolf using her hilt in the underwater home. Fifty plus years later, in spite of his aged body, Beowulf once again comes to the defense of his king and the Geats, using his skills as a great warrior to defeat the dragon at the sacrifice of his own life. "...Have the brave Geats build me a tomb..." (Beowulf, Close Reader I.
‘Go and Track down the Lion’s pearl. Kill its holder once you have it, come to me and we can lay waste on Harktown.’ King Athaulf smiled the thin, snakey smile a storybook villain would do if they were in his position. Argyros spoke.
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. And then I believe I have an old master of ours to try and convince not to go to the king. Oh, and you're coming with me for that."
The three servants rose to their feet and ran for the door. The High Commander looked out to make sure they were gone and slowly transformed into Raphael.
“We are fighters. We mourn our losses, but do not dwell. I believe that the hunt for Tayden should continue promptly.”
“I am done with you fairy tale creatures, you may leave peacefully, no more fighting.”
“If you choose to run off and not follow our commands, we will find your beloved wife and eat her to the bone!” said the short minion.
Looking at the owl setting on a branch on a nearby tree Titus said, "Well Mr. Hootie we are off to slay a dragon. If you would like to join us you are more than welcome.
“You wouldn’t understand, minion. My time in your realm is short, and I have not the time to woe my lady properly.”
Lúthwen spun around and spat at him, "He doesn't want the dwarves help! We asked for their help at one point and terrible things happened out of it!" There were tears forming in her eyes when she finished. She
“Ah yes, the Montresors were once a great and numerous family,” he said, breaking the silence. The atmosphere in the room had changed.
“I am Skjorvar, son of the Empress, protector of Arkniel, and slayer of countless shadow-beasts. My sword and my shield are polished with the blood of my enemies. The gods blessed me from birth with my power to be the one to save all of Arkniel. I am here to defend your land, with my own life if necessary. Nary have I shown a glint of fear in the eyes of death, even as he faces me. My men will protect your people and not stop until the beast is dead! Men! Hear my voice! I will stand by you all as shield-brothers in battle, we will fight and die together to ensure the beast is dead. ” Skjorvar and his men slept in the palace that night to prepare for the battle tomorrow. Through the night his mind was plagued with thoughts of his men dying or the dragon not being in the ruins of the mead-hall.