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The Many Stories of Verminard
This is a journal of all and everything (and other words that mean stuff like that) that I write.
The Writing:Part One
It was a bleak night, and stormy gusts blew on the small cottage. The crying of a newborn baby could be heard inside the house along with the sweet, soft humming of his mother. Suddenly all was still and quiet. A breeze carried a letter to the window of the cottage and into the mothers lap. It read "Your son is chosen. He along with six others will conquer the spreading evil. Take good care of him until the time comes," the rest was smuged and incomprehensible. What could ths mean his mother thought. He is a plain baby boy and is not special in any way. They will not take my baby not now not ever. I will kill him if i have, but I will never give him up.





Verminard
Community Member
Verminard
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  • [11/11/06 12:53am]
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