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Lose Your Head by moonbabe
 
August 2018
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Lose Your Head: Prologe
August 6, 2018

Over the shoulders of the mountains lay a vast foliage. Its growth spread as far as the sandy beaches would allow them to. The trees stood tall and proud, threatening the height of the mighty rocks just off to their left. Not long did a crisp shade of red wash over their bare backs, and dusk dawned on us all. And then, all at once, everything burnt out with the Sun, suddenly taken over by an impending storm.

Angry, the clouds were, as they screamed aloud. Wailing and howling, and sparking to life. With one piercing cry, the clouds let down buckets of black diamonds, which scattered the lands.

Down below, amidst the chaos, two knights trudged their way through the forest. As the men dragged their noble feet, their boots began collecting mounds of mud, stifling their progress. Nonetheless, the men marched on. Even as the howling winds blew full sized trees at their heads, or as the sheets of pelting rain tried knocking them off their feet, the men still marched on, determined to reach their destination.

"It's just up here, now," One man shouted. "There should be a house right up this hill."

A few minutes passed before the men were able to see a cabin between the crinkled branches. There was a light emitting from inside, which signified life. Closer they came to, until finally arriving just outside the door. It was, in other words, tiny, maybe the size of a small child or crippled old man.

"House? More like gremlin-dwelling cot!" The other man gargled through his metal.

As his partner proceeded to knock, and attempted to hush him. "Come now, it's all we've got. Sir Kellin told of seeing this in the distance during his last crusade. This must be what he was yapping on about," He knocked again, this time much louder while hollering to let them inside.

"Ah, for all we know, a big, fat goblin lives here. He's probably waiting to kill u-"

"Quit your blubber, you fool!" The man shouted, and then pounded once more on the door. The cottage was not only small, but old, as well. The rooftops were hanging by strands of timber, some shackles had even fallen off already,

chimney never ceased breathing.
 
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