Goddess Bound

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: February 28, 2011

Reads: 71

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Submitted: February 28, 2011

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I knew that I was good with a sword, but only to stay alive in a short battle. I was going to make myself stronger so I could kill the men who took away my life.
 
At the first town I started with them men who where slightly stronger then I, and soon I was going from town to town beating the men who where well known, earning a name for myself. Spirited Wild Rose. With all the fighting I was doing I had to take up the art of metal working, better known as being a Blacksmith.
 
The reason behind becoming a blacksmith was because I didn’t want anyone working on my sword besides myself. I became a master of metal, along with becoming a sword master. It was also a form of how I made a living. I would bet that I could beat the best blacksmith in three hundred miles; I knew I was that good with metal.
 
In my forth town I was getting fidgety, so I went into a bar and scouted. I waited in the same bar for a week looking out for someone who was the best. One man showed up every day, only ever drinking one pint, always had a hand on his sword, always laughing more like snorting. He looked like a pig, small beady blue eyes, a snub nose, and a huge meaty body. He looked like the type who thought he was everything, like he was the head honcho. He was the one who I wanted to fight.
 
When I challenged him he didn’t think that I was strong enough. “Look girly, your not strong enough, your just a little kid, and a girl at that.” He brushed me off and started to leave the bar.
 
I flung out my voice, “Are you so scared of me that you can’t take me on?” I challenged.
 
The bar went quiet and big and beefy turned a glare on his face. “Fine bitch, let’s do this.”
 
Out in the town square Big and beefy was getting ready for the bout. “To win, all you have to do is knock the sword out of my hand. That is if you can even lift the sword on your back,” He chuckled. “Oh and if you get hurt, you don’t go running to mommy and daddy.” All the thugs from the bar laughed.
 
“Good advice, you should take that into consideration.” He got mad and charged.
 
He was wild and crazy, leaving openings that I could of killed him, but I don’t like to kill, other wise I wouldn’t have as many fans. Within a few minutes his sword was ripped from his hand and went flying threw the air to land in the dirt.
 
Beefy looked at me and snarled, “You little bitch!” He charged again.
 
I quickly slid my sword back in its holder strapped to my back. His arms were out stretched, and as he came closer I reached foreword grabbed his arm. I then helped him over hip, letting him sprawl into the dirt, just like I did with his sword.
 
“Shit!” He got to his feet; he was just about to come at me again, when one of the men from the bar came running into the little circle and held up a paper.
 
“Stop! You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into! She’s that one women who goes against all the odds. Spirited Wild Rose!” Shouted the man, who I think was the bartender in training. He held up the paper and what was on it was a very detailed drawing of my self.
 

That’s what stopped more then half of the fights, cause as soon as I was just started to have fun someone would recognize me and show the poster. I hated it!


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