The storyteller sat slumped on a stump and yelled, "Please calm down and gather around, come one come all, I have a story to tell."
The crowd of thousands sat in a hush, waiting for words to come out.
"Once upon a time, there was a young adventurer who killed goblins and chickens alike, he learned quickly and once he learned he never forgot, much like a bike. Now you may wonder how I know this story so well, but you see, this courageous young adventurer was me."
The people twitched with excitement while the burly old man pondered his thoughts, many even say they could've heard a pin drop.
"Some years ago with skies so blue, I wandered into the desert without a clue. A building arose, no words could describe, but the building’s purpose was clearly defined."
A cough broke the silence, so the storyteller waited for the fit to finish with astonishing patience that never diminished.
"So as I was saying, this building so tall, had words scribed on the edifice that told it all; 'Duel Arena,' it read, what wonders awaited, 'Should I leave or should I enter?' is all the adventurer debated."
The storyteller’s deep blue eyes scanned the riveted crowd, and much to his delight, no one moved and no one turned away their sight.
"In the desert heat, the boy’s thoughts weren't clear, so he took on the challenges ahead with a sneer. He took a bold step with his rusted bronze and dagger no sharper than a butter knife, deciding yes, this would be his way of life."
The horde that sat in front of him gasped in pure awe, because in a situation like this they'd surely withdraw!
"Bravely he stepped through the threshold looking for another trial, but with one peek he thought, 'I must make mistakes every once in a while!' So he turned without a word, frightened beyond all doubt, but as he spun he let out a shout! AHH!" the storyteller proclaimed, watching the crowd jump, "A man in extravagant armor, deep blood red, made the adventurer want to drop dead. 'Challenge me young one!' He almost chuckled, dragon armor so scary, 'I like your armor, you look like a fairy!'"
The mob chuckled, certainly entrenched in the richness of a story, that most certainly told of a young man’s glory.
"So without a word I clicked on his name, maybe this fight would bring fortune and fame. The challenger sat idle, but behind his screen he surely had smiled. 'You really think you can take me?' he said, 'You're a brave adventurer now, but we will see, when you enter the arena and you can't flee!'"
The storyteller shivered from reliving the moment, because he had felt hopeless, but remembered how he had remained so focused.
"In an instant the fight will have begun, 3…2…1 is what everyone sung. The clock had expired, and the boy immediately wished to retire. With one crack, the whip hit so pure, to eat food and pray was the boy’s only cure."
TO BE CONTINUED...
